She’d gather up the information on the spa services, the meditation and exercise class schedules, she decided. Maybe the prospect of partaking of those would entice Audra to sit up, get out of that dress, and begin the process of moving on with her life.
In the lobby, an employee walked up and presented to her a tray of glasses filled with sparkling water and lemon slices. Lilly took one in hand with a murmured thanks, pausing to sip at the refreshing beverage.
A female voice came from her elbow. “How are you settling in?”
Lilly turned, her gaze landing on a woman in the hotel’s understated uniform of dark slacks and white blouse. She had a scarf artfully tied at her throat and her nametag read “Jessie.” One of the clerks she’d seen at the receptionist desk earlier, Lilly noted.
“Fine, thank you,” she answered.
“And your friend?”
Lilly hesitated. “It’s been a bad day,” she admitted.
“I figured as much.” The woman gave a small smile. “We hoteliers are very observant.”
“I suppose the wedding gown and bridesmaid’s dress were a giveaway. We wanted to escape the scene of the…crime as soon as possible and didn’t stop to change.”
Gleeful cries drew their attention to another part of the lobby. A small group of women were hugging, clearly thrilled to see one another.
“A reunion of old friends,” Jessie said, “a celebration for one of them who has been cancer-free for several years.”
“That’s nice.” Lilly felt her own mood lift a little.
“I’m Jessie Hathaway by the way.” The other woman held out her hand.
“Lilly Durand,” she answered, with a brief shake. “Hathaway, as in…”
“That’s right. My great-great-grandfather started the hotel. There’s more than one now, but all of us entering the family business usually begin by working here, at the original location. My brother Kane and my sister Amber are also on staff.”
“Not bad as a first rung on the corporate ladder,” Lilly said, her tone dry.
Jessie grinned. “Don’t I know it. But we do take our reputation very seriously. We strive for every guest to have the experience of a lifetime.”
“About that…” Lilly began. She cleared her throat. “I realize this is known as the place for people to commemorate happy times, but…”
“You’re asking about the Heartbreak Hotel thing,” Jessie said, nodding.
“I don’t know where I saw it referred to as that,” Lilly said, her face heating. “But the idea of staying here just popped into my mind this morning when Audra found out there would be no wedding today.”
“A while back, someone wrote a lifestyle piece in the Los Angeles Times about her beneficial experience staying here after her boyfriend dumped her. It went viral on the Internet and was followed by some TV pieces as well. Other people going through rough times reserved rooms and talked about their positive visits on social media.” Jessie shrugged. “Along the way, that nickname was coined.”
Heartbreak Hotel. Guests suffering from romantic disappointment supposedly found renewed joy in life during their time at the resort. Though feeling silly, Lilly found she still had to ask. “Is it the meditation sessions? A particular massage?”
“I wish I could point to one certain thing,” Jessie said. “But if I had to guess, I think—” Pausing, she held her hand to her ear, where Lilly could see a tiny earpiece was nestled.
“I’m sorry,” Jessie said after a moment. “I have to go. All hands on deck. There’s a missing boa constrictor.”
At Lilly’s horrified expression, Jessie began to laugh even as she hurried off. “Stuffed toy,” she called over her shoulder. “Beloved of a five-year-old guest.”
Shaking her head, Lilly moved to the concierge desk to collect brochures that listed the amenities of the resort as well as those of some local attractions. There were suggested hikes in the foothills as well as scenic beach walks. Though they were likely duplicates of what could be found in the bungalow she shared with Audra, she gathered them anyway and headed out of the reception area, back onto the paths through the grounds. As she walked, she skimmed the glossy pamphlets.
Dusk fell as she strolled, but low fixtures popped on to uplight the trees and delineate the walkways. Still, despite the illumination, Lilly found herself at a dead end, the way blocked by a discreet locked gate leading to a service area. Turning back, she berated herself for not paying closer attention to her whereabouts.
She had a horrible sense of direction and as she wandered, taking random rights and lefts, nothing looked familiar. There didn’t seem to be any people about either. Probably everyone was inside getting ready for dinner, she thought, reaching for her phone.
Which, apparently, she’d neglected to slip into the pocket of her jeans before leaving their bungalow.
“Gah,” Lilly muttered, casting her glance about for something she recognized.
Then she froze, that shiver she’d felt before once again cascading down her spine. Her hands clutched the stack of brochures and she quickened her pace, trying to outrun the feeling that someone was watching her.
One of the resort’s claims to fame was the quiet and seclusion it offered guests, but right now Lilly wished she’d stumble upon a raucous family group or the boa constrictor search party.
With her heart hammering like crazy, she forced herself to stop a moment and take a deep breath. There was no good reason for panic and it wouldn’t do Audra any good for her best friend to finally arrive back in their rooms in a state of high alarm.
Ignoring the persistent sense of eyes on her back, Lilly took a slow glance around and then headed off in what seemed a promising direction. Sure enough, after a few minutes one of the resort’s larger edifices loomed ahead. While many of the visitors stayed in free-standing villas and bungalows, there were also three two-story buildings housing more traditional guest
