Page 21 of In Your Wake

He takes her hand, squeezing it, and she leans in and kisses his temple. The little show of affection seems a bit too intentional and at my expense, but it sets my teeth on edge all the same. This kid looks like he’s in his early twenties and is freakishly good-looking. Anyone would find the guy attractive and I don’t care if he’s with Max, but I wonder what their story is.

The guy finally grins and extends his hand over the desk. “Hey, I’m Zayne Cardoso.”

I shake his hand, hating how firm his grip is. “Mitchell Adams.” I wait for the recognition to flicker through his eyes, but he just blinks, uninterested.

“Oh, I know who you are,” he says, but nothing about his tone screams adoration. He looks at Maxine. “I thought you had the night off.”

Max shrugs, offering a tight-lipped grin. “I did. He wanted to see the place,” she answers, jerking her chin my way. “I’ll give him a quick tour and then we’re out of here.”

“Boo,” Zayne says, feigning disappointment, and sinks back into his chair.

“Well, come on.” Maxine steps out from behind the desk, waving me over. “Let’s get this over with.”

I follow her up the creaky, old, carpeted staircase. “Aren’t you dating that other guy? Fucker, was it?”

“His name is Tucker. And yes, I am. Why?”

“You and Zayne. Friends or…?”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” she answers, “but yes, Zayne’s my best friend and the part-time assistant manager.”

“That’s it? Seemed like there was more between you.”

She stops mid-step, causing me to nearly smash into her, and turns around, her lips curling into a playful grin.

“You obviously can’t read the room very well.” A short giggle slips over her pretty lips. The sort of laugh she’d use when teasing me. Lighthearted. Harmless. And it momentarily fills me with hope. “Did you seriously miss the way he was checking you out?”

“Checking me? Oh, so he’s…” A blush crawls up my neck.

“Yeah, he is.” She shakes her head and continues up the steps, but stops at the top, turning around. Eye-level with me, she says, “Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here, Mitch?”

“I’m here to see the inn.”

“You say that, but it feels like you’re checking in on me. And you don’t have to. I know what I’m doing.”

“No offense, Maxine,” I begin, stepping up to stand beside her. “But if you did, this place wouldn’t be suffering as badly as you say it is.”

I watch my words hit her, but she forces another dry laugh. “This place is suffering because of those damn chain hotels popping up on the interstate. They’re like dune grass—one day there’s one, the next day there’s a whole cluster of them. We can’t compete and maintain a good overhead.”

“Ah, come on.” I tilt my head. “A wise girl once told me nothing is impossible if you set your mind to it.”

She tenses, her expression hardening. “Right. Well, that girl didn’t know the first real thing about life.”

“Maybe so, but she wasn’t wrong.”

A million thoughts swirl behind her eyes, but her lips remain sealed, and she lowers her head, spins around, her footsteps echoing with finality down the empty hallway.

I follow behind. The burgundy carpet beneath our feet has faded from decades of treads, and we definitely need to replace it. “Mind if I see the rooms?”

“Why?”

“Because I want to.”

She puffs out her cheeks, then pulls out her keys and unlocks the door to room four, shoving it open.

When I step in, I’m instantly reminded of Grandmother Adams. Not surprisingly, considering the room looks the same as it did twenty years ago with dark paint and floral wallpaper, lace curtains and doilies. But the rooms are big, and the old oak furniture is in good shape. Considering the retro, antiquey vibe is still popular, it wouldn’t take much to give this place a quick refresh, and ideas rush to my mind.

“You need to accept this might not be worth saving,” Maxine says, her voice subdued as she leans against the door frame, twirling the keys in her hand. “The dream your family had is fading along with Bill.”