The Wolf Hotel: Complete Series Read online

  I give a nervous laugh. “Okay. Good.” I know the state has plenty of black and brown bears, but I didn’t think I’d have to worry about them here.

  “And here.” Her fingers are clicking furiously on her screen again and then, with a jangle of her key chain, she’s unlocking a drawer and handing me an iPad and headset. “There’s an orientation video loaded up on here. It has everything on it that you missed tonight. You can return the iPad to me here, tomorrow.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And if you hurry, you can still grab a bite to eat in the staff lodge. Go out these doors,” her hand gestures to the left, “and follow the signs for the village.”

  “Great. Is that where I can make calls home?” I sent a quick text from Homer to let my parents know I landed, but my mama will be calling the front desk if I don’t send exact coordinates for where she can find me should she need to.

  “Yes. The bandwidth isn’t enough for streaming videos, but you’ll be able to do basic things like send e-mails and messages, check Facebook, that sort of thing.” Belinda pulls the freshly printed card out of the printer and, after swiping it across a machine, sets it on the counter along with a lanyard and two other cards. “You need to wear your employee card at all times. This card is for the cafeteria.” She taps the blue one. “Food is greatly subsidized for staff, and it’s a no-cash system, so you can load money onto it or ask that a portion of your salary be garnered for it.”

  “Just like campus.”

  “Yup. And this other card gets you into your cabin. You’re in cabin seven. The others are already here.”

  “How many others are there?”

  “Six per cabin.”

  I let that news sink in. I haven’t had a roommate since my first week of freshman year. That was a short-lived disaster. When I phoned my mama to tell her that the girl locked me out so she could smoke pot and have sex with her boyfriend, Mama quickly forked over another two thousand dollars and I snagged one of the last available private rooms. We’re not poor, but my parents like to live frugally.

  Either way, neither Mama nor her bank account will fix a problem with a shitty roommate here.

  Or five shitty roommates, potentially.

  I smile wide, another trick I’ve learned. The worse the situation, the bigger my smile needs to be. My face hurts from all the smiling I’ve done these past few months. “Okay, great. Thank you so much.”

  “I’m the hotel manager. You will be reporting in to Paige Warhill for the housekeeping department. But, if there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.” That doesn’t sound genuine.

  Slinging my hiker’s backpack over my shoulders, I remind her, “You’ll look into my position, right?”

  She’s already typing away on the computer, her eyes on the screen. “Yes. Definitely.”

  * * *

  “Jed came home today.”

  “That’s great.” No matter how hard I try to remove him from my daily—heck, hourly—thoughts, Mama’s always good for reminding me. She was probably watching for his arrival since noon. We can see the Enderbeys’s front porch from our kitchen window.

  “Have you talked to him lately?”

  “No.” Not for nearly two months. For a while there, we kept in regular contact. That’s what he wanted, to stay close friends. Ever since he started dating her though, we’ve been incommunicado.

  “Well, he brought that trollop along with him. Can you believe that? I don’t understand what he sees in her.”

  “What?” The word comes out like a hiss, the news a swift kick to my stomach, even all the way up in Alaska. I hadn’t expected it so soon. Jed has officially brought her into our world. Into the place of our childhood, where we’d lie in the grass and decide what the clouds were shaped like, where we nursed an abandoned kitten back to health. We’ve lived next to Jed and his family for as long as I can remember. Jed and I used to swing on the tire tied to the oak tree and catch toads in the pond between our properties when we were little.

  “But let’s not worry too much. Reverend Enderbey thinks that a few days with his family and her together will prove to him that she doesn’t belong in our lives.”

  Our lives.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and will this nauseating churn in my stomach to go away. I don’t want to talk, or think, or cry over Jed anymore. “I’m in cabin seven, if there’s an emergency. I already sent you all the other information. Remember, I won’t be carrying my cell phone around with me. It doesn’t work well here, anyway.”

  “I don’t like not being able to get hold of you when I need to, Abigail,” she says in her typical stern voice. There is no other tone with her, even when she’s happy. Right now, I’m guessing she’s sitting at the harvest table in our kitchen, her floral robe stretched over her 370 pound body, enjoying her coffee. The woman drinks coffee late into the night and then complains that she can’t fall asleep.

  “I’m going to be fine.” As long as you stop giving me updates about my ex and his new girlfriend.

  “Are you safe there?”

  “Yes. They have security and cameras and, honestly, I don’t think anyone is going to pay twelve hundred dollars a night to commit crimes.”

  “Rich people make for immoral people.”

  I roll my eyes, but only because she can’t see me. She’d wallop me if she knew. For someone so forgiving of Jed, she sure is judgmental of everyone else.

  “Do they have plumbing, at least?”

  I gaze around the place and burst out with laughter. It’s a log building with a cafeteria-style dining section on one side and several sectional couches on the other, with a mammoth two-sided stone fireplace situated in the center, the fire burning within giving off considerable heat. Beyond swinging doors in the back, I can hear dishes and cutlery clattering, and the occasional laugh. While there aren’t crystal chandeliers, it’s beyond simply “nice.” “Yes, they have plumbing.”

  “Don’t you be laughing at my concern for you,” Mama scolds. “Are they feeding you well?”

  I push the pan-seared chicken around on my plate. I’m not sure what the sauce is but it’s delicious, as are the mashed potatoes and string beans. Then again, I’m not picky when it comes to food and I have a healthy appetite. Thank God I also have my father’s high metabolism, otherwise I’d likely be waddling out of here by August. “I’m going to eat better here than all year on campus. I’ve gotta go now. I haven’t even made it to my cabin yet.”

  “Are there a lot of people working there?” she asks, ignoring my attempt at a dismissal.

  “Yes. Quite a few.” The staff lodge looks like it could accommodate a hundred people. According to the video I just watched, Wolf Cove Hotel—an adults-only getaway—has fifty guest rooms and three penthouse cabins available, so it’s not nearly as big as a typical Wolf hotel. Apparently the one down in LA can accommodate 1,500 guests.

  “What kind of people are there? Do any of them look like good Christians?”

  “Yeah, they look like Jed.”

  “Abigail Margaret Mitchell. Are you gettin’ smart with me?”

  I sigh. “It feels like being at school. Everyone’s young.” And attractive, from what I’ve seen so far. I guess that makes sense though. A high-end hotel that’s focused on aesthetics would extend that focus to what their staff looks like, right or wrong. “Mostly female.”

  “That’s good.” I hear the relief in her voice. I know what she’s thinking. An all-female staff would be the best way to preserve Abbi’s virtue for marriage. I don’t know how many uncomfortable birds and bees and “wait until you’re married” and “you’ll get pregnant if he touches you” lectures I’ve had from my mama. The only reason she allowed me to go away to school is because it’s a Christian college, Jed was going, and the Reverend’s son can do no wrong in my parents’ eyes.

  Even though my eyes saw exactly the wrong he can do, firsthand.

  “Okay.” She sighs. “Remember that your father and I love you, and...” T
here’s a long pause. “If this trip is what you need, then we support you.”

  I can almost hear her teeth grinding as she forces those words out. But I don’t call her on it. I don’t tell her that I’m old enough to make my own decisions without her approval. If giving it helps her sleep at night, so be it.

  “Just don’t forget who you are, and how you’ve been raised. And no alcohol. Look what happened when Jed got mixed up in that stuff.”

  That’s one of their excuses for what happened. Alcohol. Parties.

  A.k.a. the devil.

  “It’s late. You best be goin’ to bed now. And text Jed. Let him know you’re safe. I’m sure he’d like to hear from you.”

  I have no intention of texting him now, knowing that she’s there. “Right. Gotta go. Love you, Mama.” I hang up and sigh.

  “People been doin’ that all day long,” a voice says beside me.

  I look over. A guy with dark skin and a cropped haircut wipes the table behind me, the chain that dangles from his pocket slapping against the wood. “Doing what? Telling their parents that they love them?”

  “Sighing with relief as soon as they hang up. Though the ‘I love you’ is sweet.”

  I chuckle. “If their mamas are like my mama, then I believe it about the sighing.”

  He works on a spot of ketchup, his tattoos prominently displayed on his forearm. “Name’s Miguel.”

  I offer him a polite smile. “I’m Abbi.”

  “Where you from, Abbi?”

  “Pennsylvania, originally. Going to school in Chicago.”

  He takes a break from wiping to stand up straight. His chocolate eyes wander over the area. “Another beautiful college girl.”

  I blush at the compliment, though I don’t know how valid it is. While I don’t think I’m a complete troll, I’ve spent many years wishing away my dull ginger hair for blonde, my owlish hazel eyes for blue, and natural D-sized breasts for Bs, so it doesn’t hurt so much when I run.

  They say every girl battles self-doubt, feeling ugly or fat or undesirable. I never really did, because I always knew I was desirable to Jed. He told me so regularly.

  But everything has changed. I’m becoming more and more self-conscious, more unsatisfied with myself.

  “Where do you live, Miguel?”

  “San Jose.”

  “Wow. That’s a long way to travel for a job.”

  “And it’s damn cold up here, too.” He emphasizes the temperature change by shuddering, making me laugh.

  “What made you come here to work then?”

  “Me and my cousin are line cooks for the Wolf San Diego. This job came up and we were lookin’ for something new. An experience, you know?”

  “Yeah, I know.” I stack my dishes onto my tray.

  “And you can’t beat the money. But,” he chuckles as he continues wiping, “not sure this Mexican can handle remote wilderness and lack of basic communication with the outside world. It’s a good thing they got me working the staff lodge where the Wi-Fi is. I may go loco otherwise.” He collects my dirty plates for me. “Listen, anything you want, my sweet Abbi, you call my name and I’ll hook you up.”

  “Thanks, Miguel.”

  He winks and then leaves with a slight swagger, the rag over his shoulder, humming to himself. He’s obviously flirting with me, but it’s the kind of casual flirting that I’ll bet he’s done with every female he’s come across so far today. I’ll bet there are plenty of sweet Saras and sweet Jennifers.

  He’s a good-looking guy, though too wiry and short for my taste, and I don’t much care for tattoos. Still, it feels good, the attention, given where my confidence has sunk to over the past few months.

  I like the classic tall, dark, and handsome. Jed fit that mold, in my eyes, anyway. And I had his eyes without fail, too. They were glued to me. To my face, to my chest, to my ass. Just because we were choosing the parent-approved route of saving ourselves for marriage didn’t mean we didn’t suffer from normal teenager hormones.

  He’s palmed my breasts more times than I can count, playing with my erect nipples until they were sore. I wrapped my fist around his erection plenty, too. Only, it was always through his clothes. That was our rule—pants stayed on at all times. He came up with that rule. He said he wouldn’t be able to control himself otherwise, and honestly I wasn’t sure I would be able to either.

  You can do a lot of things with clothes on. I loved teasing him, and I used to do so mercilessly, up until last summer when I teased him so much that he got mad and decided to teach me a lesson. That’s why, in the barn behind my house, he held me down by my wrists, pressed himself between my legs and ground against me until I was begging him to take my pants off and touch me.

  The perfect time for my father and the farmhand to walk in.

  That Sunday at church, Jed’s father gave a full-hour sermon on the sins of the flesh. Mama began prepping for a shotgun wedding, assuming I’d be delivering news of a future grandchild any day, even though I’ve been on birth control to help alleviate terrible menstrual cramps since I was seventeen. Boy, was getting her to agree to me on birth control a battle. My cries of pain were what finally softened her resolution.

  Since last summer, we were both more considerate of each other, and maybe a little more careful, realizing exactly how wound up we could get. How easy it would be to ignore everything we’ve been taught to value and give in to human desires.

  Jed ended up throwing it away anyway, only with someone else.

  It’s not until a tear lands on the iPad screen that I realize I’m sitting here in the staff lodge in Alaska, still crying over Jed. I give my eyes an angry rub and then, collecting my backpack and tote bag, head for cabin seven.

  Chapter Four

  The staff accommodations remind me of summer camp, with small rectangular cabins lined up in rows and narrow pathways weaving among them. There are at least fifteen, from what I can see.

  I make my way toward cabin seven, where a faint glow of light fills the windows. Laughter explodes the moment I open the door.

  “Hey!” The closest woman comes forward with a grin. She reaches for my tote bag with her free hand. Her other one is gripping a silver flask. “Someone’s late to the party!”

  I feel my face growing red, never one for overt attention. “My plane was delayed.”

  She grins wide, showing me a beautiful set of white teeth. She’s extremely pretty, her pixie-cut hair framing her delicate features nicely. “No worries. I’m Autumn. You and I are bunkmates. Hope you don’t mind being on the bottom.”

  “Not at all. I’m Abbi.”

  “You’re going to get to know us all really well, and really fast.”

  “I see that.” I do a quick scan of the cabin. Three sets of twin bunkbeds, one on each wall, and a tiny powder room opposite me. I’m not sure how six women are going to handle being in here together, but I guess we’ll manage.

  Autumn waves a hand around the space. “Abbi, everyone. Everyone, Abbi.”

  I nervously make the rounds as the others take turns introducing themselves to me. All of them look to be in their midtwenties. In the bunkbed kitty-corner to us are Rachel and Katie—two giggly bottle-blondes from Tampa. Across from us, a brunette named Lorraine from Oregon is lying on the top with a magazine in hand. A stunning redhead from Atlanta named Tillie sits on the bottom. Her hair is a vibrant, deep orangey red instead of my flat, boring shade; a color I’ve wished for since I was twelve. And her voice... I could listen to her accent all day long.

  “We have to share a dresser. We each get two drawers and can split the middle one with our unmentionables. I took the top because I’m so tall. I hope you don’t mind,” Autumn says with a sheepish smile. She’s sweet. And she is tall. She must have at least five inches on me.

  “I don’t mind at all.” I toss my backpack onto the floor, glad to have finally reached my bed. “What’s this?” I ask, reaching for the thick black material hanging against the wall.

  “Privac
y curtains.” Autumn yanks on it and the curtain flies across the track, around the bunkbed, closing us off from the others.

  “Like a hospital.” I guess some privacy is better than none.

  “Yeah. Sort of.” She giggles, tucking strands of cinnamon hair behind her ear. She throws the curtain back, until we’re a part of the group again. “The toilet’s there, and the showers are three buildings over, to the left. Thank God, because at five in the morning, it’s a cold walk.” She shudders. “At least they gave us robes.”

  “Any guesses on what Autumn was hired for?” Lorraine asks.

  “Wilderness guide?” I guess, and everyone laughs.

  “Close. Concierge. Trust me, you don’t want me as a wilderness guide. Everyone would get eaten.”

  “Well, I for one am not leaving the confines of this beautiful property, so no one’s gonna be eatin’ this southern girl,” Tillie purrs.

  “Except maybe the big bad wolf,” Autumn mocks, and they all explode with laughter. It must be an inside joke. Great. A few hours late and I’m already an outsider.

  Autumn reaches out to grab my arm. “Have you seen him yet?”

  I frown, confused. “Who? The big bad wolf?”

  She laughs. “Henry Wolf, the owner.”

  Oh. I chuckle and shake my head.

  Her eyes widen knowingly. “Just you wait. There isn’t a warm-blooded female here who wouldn’t spread her legs for that man’s tongue.”

  My cheeks flush. Not that I haven’t wondered what it would feel like to have a man—Jed—go down on me. I don’t understand how I’ll ever psych myself up to allowing it. I can’t even touch myself without knowing that I’ll feel sinful once my climax has come and gone. I clear my throat. “So the owner’s here?” I never bothered to read up on the Wolf family, more interested in Alaska and the hotel itself.