Chapter 49 Cynthia
Cynthia
The receptionist stationed at the desk in the foyer lifted a hand to get her attention; nothing so gauche as a raised voice would be acceptable at a place like the Maine Chance.
Cynthia approached the desk, aware that the staff brought in from the resort in Arizona or from the Red Door salons around the country looked down on the local workers, who were seen as essentially unskilled labor.
She waited while the receptionist retrieved a stack of messages from a set of wooden mail cubbies mounted on the wall behind the desk. She pressed them into Cynthia’s outstretched hand with the admonishment to take them to Vivian’s room straightaway.
“See that she gets them. The same caller has been ringing the phone off the hook trying to reach her. There has even been a telegram. I think it must be some sort of emergency,” the receptionist said, a crinkle of concern appearing between her perfectly plucked eyebrows.
“Also, Dolores is held up with something at the laundry house, so you’ll need to take breakfast to Vivian Shaw along with the messages. ”
Cynthia slipped the messages into the pocket of her apron and headed to the guest kitchen to pick up the tray for Vivian.
After what had happened the night before, Cynthia had overslept a bit, but there had been no recriminations from Iris.
Just knowing that her boss would allow her such consideration put the spring back into her step, despite the bruises she had felt as soon as she rolled over in bed that morning.
She winced as she hoisted the tray covered with grapefruit segments, fresh blueberries, a thin slice of dry toast, and a pot of coffee.
Calvin appeared in the hall just outside the kitchen door. Perhaps the pain in her shoulder blades showed on her face. He took one look at her and took the tray from her hands.
“Where are you headed?” he asked.
“Vivian’s room on the second floor. I don’t think you’re allowed up there.”
“You’re not in any fit state to carry this all that way. If anyone asks, we’ll tell them it was Iris’s idea.” He strode off towards the servants’ stairs, pausing at the base for her to take the lead.
She eased past him, careful not to brush against him in the narrow space.
She told herself that she was just being careful with the tray, but she suspected that she was fibbing.
For just a moment, the memory of Glenn’s face rose up in her mind’s eye.
She stifled a flash of panic and grasped the banister.
“Speaking of Iris, I didn’t thank you last night for taking me to her. She was a great deal of help.”
“Iris has always been good in a pinch. I was sure she would know just what to do.” As they reached the top of the stairs and stepped onto the second-floor landing, Calvin cleared his throat.
It was an oddly masculine sound in a space meant exclusively for women.
“I shouldn’t have let you go to that party alone.
I feel like what happened was my fault.”
She stopped and turned to face him. “The only one to blame is the guy who thought he could take something from me that I wasn’t willing to give. You had nothing to do with it.”
Calvin’s cheeks flushed—either from anger or embarrassment, she didn’t know which.
“Did he manage to steal from you?” He stared down at the tray as if it held the answers to life’s hard questions.
She thought about it for a long moment. Perhaps Glenn had robbed her, but she had gained something as well.
“He took a slice off my trusting nature and maybe scared a year off my life, but he didn’t get what he was after if that is what you’re asking.” She paused and he nodded.
“I’m relieved to hear it. I am not sure I could look myself in the mirror if he had interfered with you.” He looked up at her again and met her eyes with his own warm brown ones, the color of strong tea.
“I’m a little more wary than I was when I left here last night, but I’m also more aware of how resourceful I can be when I need to.”
“You got a couple of good licks in, then?” Calvin asked.
“I most assuredly did,” Cynthia said. She could almost feel the cool glass neck of the gin bottle against her palm.
She doubted she would ever enjoy a martini again.
Or maybe she would make them her signature drink as a reminder of how she’d managed to save herself from harm. Still, she needn’t decide straightaway.
“I still regret not going with you, and not just because of what happened to you or at the nightclub.”
Cynthia’s ears pricked up. “Did something upsetting happen to you too?”
“You can say that again. I already felt bad about turning you down and sneaking the ladies away from the resort. But then when we arrived, Vivian insisted that I accompany them all inside the club. That sort of place isn’t my idea of a good time.”
Cynthia could imagine that. He seemed more the kind to enjoy a ball game or even a day spent helping friends on a home-remodeling project or tinkering with a car engine. Still, most men would put up with a lot to be seen with a woman as gorgeous as Vivian Shaw.
“It couldn’t have been all that terrible, considering how beautiful the company.”
Calvin shook his head. “Her looks weren’t the problem.
” He lowered his voice. “You weren’t in any fit state to notice last night, but Vivian was completely blotto when we found you.
She was so drunk that she got us kicked out.
The other customers actually clapped and cheered when management asked us to leave. ”
Cynthia was glad she wasn’t holding the tray; she might have dropped it in surprise.
“Vivian got you kicked out of the club? It must have been quite a scene.”
“Let’s put it this way: It took three waiters as well as myself to pull her down off a table and wrangle her back to the car.”
Before he could reply, she turned and faced Vivian’s door. She knocked before slipping her key into the lock.
“I’d better take it from here. It is one thing for you to be on the second floor, but I don’t think we could make up any excuse that would explain you being in Vivian’s room.”
Calvin handed her the tray and held her gaze for a moment. “After last night, I wouldn’t dream of causing you trouble.” He leaned towards her. “I hope that you know the scene at the club wasn’t the only reason I regretted turning you down for the party.”
“It wasn’t?”
“No, it wasn’t. I spent the night wishing that I had been anywhere else with you.”
“You spent the evening with a Hollywood starlet, and you expect me to believe you would have rather been with me?”
“That’s exactly what I am saying.”
Calvin leaned a little closer, a question in his eyes.
For a moment, her stomach roiled, and her heart pounded.
But as she smiled at him, her panic eased.
Glenn hadn’t stolen what Calvin had so carefully asked about.
She wasn’t about to let him steal how she felt about the man standing before her.
She eased forward, despite the ache between her shoulder blades, and gave the slightest nod.
He brushed his fingertips across her cheek, then gently kissed her before turning towards the servants’ stairs without another word.