Unforgettable Summer Read online

  Contents

  So Inn Love

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Better Latte Than Never

  Coffee Wench

  How Am I Driving?

  En français, s’il vous plaît

  Rooty Tooty, What a Cutie

  Weather on the Nines

  Peggy, Peggy, Peggy

  FEN

  Your Love Is Like Roadkill

  Maternity Moments

  Everyone Looked Dead

  Sunny-side Down

  Triple Ew

  Absolute Hams

  Always Tweedledee

  The Crispest Crisp

  Steve, What’s So Funny?

  Call Me Cinder-Peggy

  So Sorry, Fleming

  It’s Only Lindville

  Protection

  Free Ride

  Aging Prematurely

  I Am Sunshine

  Thwarted

  Wild Streak

  No French Connection

  Fireworks

  She’s Uncomfortable

  Love among the Pancakes

  Back When I Was Delusional

  The Skating of the Lambs

  What Boy?

  Beaucoup Busted

  You’re Kidding, Right?

  Web of Evil

  Because I Really Like Pink

  Do Not Adjust Your Sets

  Back Ads

  About the Author

  Books by Catherine Clark

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  So Inn Love

  CHAPTER 1

  “And you are?”

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  I was the last person to arrive. I hate walking into a room that’s already full of people—even if the room is the front lobby of a gorgeous seaside inn on the coast of Rhode Island, where I was lucky enough to be starting a great new summer job.

  Being late wasn’t the impression I wanted to make on my first day, especially since I’d barely gotten this job to begin with, and had found out only a week before that it was mine.

  “Hi. I’m Elizabeth McKenzie,” I said to the woman standing in front of me. She had short, reddish hair and a stocky, athletic build. She was wearing khaki pants and a white Tides Inn polo shirt that looked as if it had been ironed. The short sleeves had actual creases. “But please, call me Liza,” I said. “Sorry—am I late?”

  “Just a minute or two. Miss Crossley.” She held out her hand to shake mine, and gave me a quick once-over glance, as if she was deciding whether to approve of me or not. I was relieved that I’d removed that pink streak from my hair before I got here—she didn’t seem the type to appreciate things like that. Her handshake was so strong, I nearly winced from her grip. “So you’re the last-minute hire,” Miss Crossley said.

  She didn’t sound all that happy with the decision, which was funny considering she was the Inn staff manager and she had to be in on hiring me, at some level. I wished she hadn’t announced that I was “last minute” like that to the room. Everyone kind of looked up and focused their gaze on me, as if there might be something wrong, or suspect, about me.

  As if I’d only made the security clearance by the skin of my teeth. As if I were only good enough when there was no other option.

  Or at least that’s what their faces told me. That I was being snobbed.

  Yes, it’s a verb. Especially useful around exclusive communities like this one. I actually hadn’t known that much about it until three years ago when, because of my mother’s job as a professor, we moved to a new town, where Snobs ’R Us was the name of one of the after-school clubs.

  Just kidding. But moving right before sophomore year had been a little traumatic for me. Just when I was working my way up from being a lowly freshman, I had to start all over again, and the cliques at my new school didn’t make it easy. It was like everyone had lived in the same town forever and I was the sole new person. That wasn’t true, but that’s how it felt until I made some friends. Now I was wondering if I’d just walked into the same situation here, at my perfect summer job.

  One girl flashed me a sympathetic smile, so at least there was that. The room was filled with about forty people, taking up nearly every seat in the large, spacious lobby. It was starting to hit me that I was actually on the Tides Inn staff. I couldn’t believe it. Everything had happened so fast, since I got the summons a week ago. My dream job, coming through. I might be late and I might be a little uncomfortable, but at the same time I knew I was lucky to be here.

  I finally spotted an empty white wicker chair by the window, so I nodded to Miss Crossley and scooted past her to take a seat.

  “Now, we’ll do some introductions later on, once you’ve had a chance to get settled. But the Inn opens for summer season—the only season we have around here—in two days,” she said. “That gives us two days to get completely perfect at everything we do. We don’t accept less than perfection here at the Tides Inn. Our customers expect it, and we demand it. You’ve all been hired because of your extreme trustworthiness.”

  She made it sound as if we were about to go into battle, and we were the elite soldiers. The Green Berets—although I didn’t think the Inn’s color scheme was green. More like a blue-gray, the color of a whale you might see if you went out far enough in a sailboat. And instead of berets? We’d probably wear floppy bucket hats.

  “Now,” Miss Crossley went on, “some of you are new to me, some are old friends—” She stopped as the screen door creaked open and slammed shut with a bang.

  A tall guy with brown hair, wearing long khaki shorts, flip-flops, and a navy T-shirt ripped at the neck, stepped into the lobby. He glanced behind him at the door, then turned back to Miss Crossley and smiled. He had the kind of smile that made you like him instantly.

  “Someone’s going to have to fix that before the guests get here,” he said.

  “Thanks for volunteering, Hayden. Nice you could make it,” the manager said. She cleared her throat as she glanced at her watch.

  So I wasn’t the last one to arrive, after all. Victory! Or at least not total outright failure. I looked at him; his T-shirt said, “Mapleville Academy” on it, a place I’d only vaguely heard of but probably should know about. I thought it was one of those elite private schools in New England.

  “Sorry, Peach. I got lost,” he said.

  “Peach?” several people repeated.

  I’d only met Miss Crossley a minute ago, but I didn’t get the impression that she was very “peachy” at all. Apple, maybe. Granny Smith Apple. Sour.

  “In case the rest of you are wondering, Hayden’s the only one allowed to call me that.” Miss Crossley narrowed her gaze at Hayden. “And even then I’m not so sure, actually. And what do you mean, you got lost? You’ve been here the past two summers, plus I picked you up from the New York train yesterday. So where have you been?”

  “I was trying to clean up the beach. I picked up some bottles and trash, then I was raking the sand—I lost track of time, I guess. Sorry.”

  “What, are you going for Employee of the Month already?” someone in the crowd called out.

  “Hey, if
the plaque fits . . . then put it on the wall,” Hayden replied with a smile.

  The guy sitting behind me groaned.

  Miss Crossley didn’t look impressed or amused, either. “Hayden, why don’t you hurry up and take a seat so we can get started—or restarted, rather.”

  “Sure thing.” He smiled at her.

  “There’s room here, Hayden.” Two girls scooted over on a sofa to make a space for him.

  “Now. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted . . .” Miss Crossley looked at Hayden and smiled. “It’s great to have you all back this year. I know there are other summer jobs that might pay more, might be more exciting, or might be closer to home. We at the Inn—the Talbot family and I, and the rest of the adult employees—certainly appreciate the sacrifices you’re making to be here. Living away from home—”

  “That’s a sacrifice?” the guy sitting behind me on the window seat joked. He was leaning forward onto the back of my chair, and he was sort of pulling my hair. I moved a little to tug it free from under his arm.

  “More like a gift,” a girl to my left added. I turned to her and smiled in agreement. It wasn’t that living at home was so terrible, for any reason—just old.

  “Well, it’s not as if this is the Hilton,” Miss Crossley said. “Actually the Inn is better than the Hilton, of course. But your living quarters—”

  “More like Motel Six,” a girl added.

  “No, more like Motel Three,” Hayden said, and everyone laughed.

  Is it really that bad? I wondered. I mean, I figured that the dorm where all the employees stayed was nothing special, but I thought living on our own was cool enough. We didn’t need it to be all that nice, considering we wouldn’t be spending a whole lot of time in our rooms.

  “Your accommodations are perfectly adequate,” Miss Crossley said, the only one who didn’t crack a smile. I wondered if she smiled much, period. Probably not. Too busy striving for perfection.

  After an hour’s worth of rules and regulations, Miss Crossley told us to take a break from orientation and go check out our rooms.

  The boy sitting behind me stood and stretched his arms over his head, looking sleepy. “Orientation. Like it’s college.” He smiled at me. He had curly, sandy hair that he brushed back out of his face. “How much is there to know?”

  “A lot, I guess.” I didn’t want to say anything bad, seeing as how I was the last person to be hired.

  “She thinks so, anyway.” He held out his hand. “Hey. I’m Josh.”

  “Liza,” I said. “Nice to meet you.”

  “So you’re new here?” he asked, and I nodded. “Me too. Don’t worry, you didn’t miss anything by being late,” he said. Then he walked over to join and talk to some of the other guys.

  I looked around the room at everyone gathered in small groups, talking and laughing and hugging. The way everyone was instantly talking to each other, it was obvious most of them knew each other already, from the summer before.

  I glanced down at the information sheets Miss Crossley had handed us when the meeting broke up. “Room Assignments” was on top. I looked around the room at everyone, trying to guess who I might be rooming with, and who might become my good friends—with any luck they’d be the same people. The summer could either be great—which I was desperately hoping for and semicounting on—or terrible, depending.

  I was skimming the list for my name when a petite girl with short dark-brown hair came up to me. She wore a red T-shirt and khaki capri pants. “Hi, I’m Claire. I think you’re my roommate,” she said.

  “Hey!” I said with a smile. “I was just checking out the list and wondering how I’d figure out who you were. You’d think Miss Crossley would make a point of introducing us but . . . Are you psychic?”

  “Well, since you came late, I got to hear your name, so I knew it was you,” she said. “It wasn’t my ESP—sorry.”

  “I knew there was a reason I came late. Everyone probably thought I was just lazy, or disorganized, but it was all a plan so you’d know who I was. Really.”

  “Sure. Obviously,” Claire said. “I’m the opposite—I always get everywhere early. I even try to be late, but it never works out. You think that kind of thing is genetic?”

  “I hope so, because that would give me a good excuse for being late,” I said.

  “Oh, come on. You weren’t even the last person to show up. And I think the only person who noticed or cared—”

  “Just happens to be our new boss,” I put in.

  Claire shrugged. “Yeah, so, she’ll get over it. It might take her a few weeks, and you might have to be perfect in every other way, but it’ll blow over.”

  “Yeah. Thanks. That puts my mind at ease.” We both laughed. “Did you work here last summer, too?” I asked Claire. So far she seemed like a really nice person—we’d have no problem getting along. “Because it seems like everyone besides me has.”

  Claire shook her head. “Oh, I’ve never worked here before, either.”

  “Is it me? Or does it seem like kind of a club?” We stood off to the side, watching the other girls squealing and hugging. They were all standing in a circle, and the only two people not in the circle were me and Claire. I felt totally frozen out, just like when I moved to my new school three years ago. I hoped college wasn’t going to be anything like this, because I wasn’t sure how many times I could go through it.

  “I hate cliques. I got enough of this in high school, you know?” Claire said.

  As she was talking, I saw a girl over her shoulder who looked very familiar to me. “Me too. Except . . . wait a second. I know her,” I said. I hadn’t noticed her when I came in, but I suddenly realized—it was Caroline Farlane! We both used to vacation in this town when we were kids. My grandparents rented a cottage just down the road, for two weeks every summer. This would be so cool! She kind of had an “in” already, and so could I, just because I knew her.

  “Know who?” Claire asked.

  Caroline used to be sort of a tomboy, but now she had shoulder-length straight blond hair, bleached and combed to perfection, and wore a flowered sun dress with high-heeled sandals. “Caroline?” I asked as I approached her. “Is that you?”

  She turned toward me and gave me a confused look. “I’m sorry?” she said, fingering the strand of pearls around her neck.

  “It’s me,” I said. “Elizabeth McKenzie.”

  “Oh, wow. Beth. I didn’t even recognize you. Like, at all.” She stared at my black tank, long khaki shorts, and black sandals.

  “But didn’t you hear me say my name when I came in?”

  “I didn’t see you come in. Zoe and I must have been talking,” she said. “We had a ton to catch up on. That’s Zoe, we’re roommates.” She pointed to a tall, pretty girl with similar features to her own.

  You’ve heard of “the beautiful people,” right? Well, that was Zoe. She was kind of stunning, actually, like she could model if she chose to.

  “Anyway, you look . . . totally different.” She implied that it was maybe not in a good way. “Is that a tattoo?” She pointed to a symbol on my arm.

  “Not a permanent one. Just a last-night-at-home thing. My friends and I—we all did it.”

  “Hm. Interesting. Because they’re banned, you know. If Miss Crossley sees that, you’ll be in trouble.”

  “Noted,” I said as I shifted to put my arm behind my back, in case our supervisor was approaching. “It’s temporary. I can wash it off.”

  “Well, I’d suggest it,” Caroline said in a snooty tone.

  “Yeah, well, I’ve changed a little since we last saw each other, I guess.” I was probably about half a foot taller, for one thing. She was about twice as preppy. Our outfits couldn’t have been more different, which was funny, because we used to be so alike. “And I go by Liza now. This is Claire, my roommate. What room are you in?” I asked, wondering if we’d be neighbors.

  “Beth, your hair,” she said, ignoring my question—and my nickname change. “Did
n’t it used to be blond?”

  “Sort of,” I said. “Anyway, how have you been? Wow. It’s so cool that we’re both working here. Who would have thought?”

  “Actually, this is my second summer here,” she said. Her voice wasn’t necessarily cold, but it wasn’t warm either.

  “Oh.” I nodded. What was I supposed to say—congratulations? She was expecting something, so I said, “So you liked it enough to come back?”

  “Are you serious? This is the best place to work. Ever. How did you get in, anyway?” Caroline asked, as if this were the sort of nightclub where I’d be left standing outside, waiting in line forever.

  I was going to tell her how hard it had been, and how I’d applied last year, too, and how my grandfather had pulled a few strings to get me in. But her attitude was bugging me, so I decided not to. “Oh, you know,” I said. “It wasn’t any big deal.”

  “Really.”

  “Really,” I said. “So tell me what you’ve been up to. It’s been a long time. I can’t wait to catch up. You know what’s weird, I haven’t been inside here for a couple of years. Wow—I just thought of something. Remember when we got kicked off the tennis court here? Oh my God, that was funny.”

  “We did not.”

  “We did, too!” I said. “Remember those cute guys we met on the beach, and we were supposed to meet them here, and then—”

  “Well, see you around, Beth,” she interrupted me. Then she turned back to the group she’d been talking to when I first walked up, to Zoe and her other friends.

  She’s snobbing me, I thought. Caroline, of all people, is snobbing me. If she was part of the “in crowd,” then maybe I didn’t want to be. “It’s Liza,” I said to her back.

  “Hey, Liza. And don’t mind her, she’s not that nice to anyone.”

  I turned and saw Hayden—the guy who’d arrived right after me—standing beside me. “Seriously?”

  He nodded. “Caroline’s not exactly the person you send out on the welcome wagon.”

  “Okay, but here’s the thing. Have you ever seen a welcome wagon? Like, what’s in it?”

  “And who pulls it? Horses?” Claire added.

  We all laughed, that kind of nervous laughter when you first meet someone.

  “So you’re Liza. And you are?” Hayden asked.