Nightcaps at The Beach House Hotel (The Beach House Hotel)

CHAPTER ONE

I sat with my business partner, Rhonda DelMonte Grayson, in our office at The Beach House Hotel on the Gulf Coast in sunny Sable, Florida, wondering if we were facing another problem that we’d have trouble solving.

“Who is this nighttime talk show host anyway?” Rhonda asked. “I’ve never heard of him. Of course, I can’t stay up beyond nine o’clock. Besides, who wants to see a program where every famous star is talking about who is dating whom or telling us what their favorite thing to wear is, or what they like to eat? Who the fuck cares? I’m too tired working here at the hotel and taking care of kids and grandkids to want to bother with stuff like that.”

I knew enough to wait until Rhonda caught her breath. She and I were as different as two people could be. I’d grown up with a strict grandmother in Boston where proper language and decorum were everything. It still amazed me that Rhonda and I had become best friends and business partners. But Rhonda had a heart as big as the diamonds she wore in her ears, on her fingers, and at her neck and wrists. And I’d never forget all she’d done for me.

“Before we decide to honor his request to stay here for several weeks, we need to view at least a couple of his shows to help us decide for ourselves if it could work,” I said. “C’mon, it won’t be so bad. We’ll have a couple of nightcaps and snacks while we watch the show.”

“Humph. I suppose we need to know who we’re dealing with, especially because he’s requesting the same dates as Tina Marks,” Rhonda said.

“The two of them would be staying in the hotel’s two guesthouses apart from one another, so they should have the seclusion they require,” I said. “But our loyalty goes to Tina.” Tina Marks was like a daughter to us after we’d agreed to hide her at the hotel to lose some weight between movies. She’d been a tough brat when she’d first arrived but was now dear to us both.

“So, what’s his name?” Rhonda asked me.

“Darryl Douglas,” I replied. “He’s fairly new in the business. He’s had his show for only a couple of years. I looked him up online. He’s got a nice smile.”

“Already I don’t trust him. I hate a person who smiles while they’re gossiping,” said Rhonda, and I knew this was a piece of baggage from Rhonda’s childhood. She grew up in New Jersey in a rough neighborhood and had been teased for her size.

Now that she was happily married and financially secure after winning one hundred eighty-seven million dollars in the Florida lottery, people were much nicer to her. Still, Rhonda was a loyal person who saw through others who were not very kind. Maybe that’s why our relationship worked. We’d both been betrayed by the men we’d first married.

“Let’s look at a couple of his shows this week and see how we feel about his request after that,” I said. “You can come to my house. Vaughn is away working on a movie in Canada, and Robbie will be in bed. We can enjoy our time together.”

“Nightcaps, huh? With a few treats? Okay, but if I still don’t like the guy, I don’t care what kind of situation he’s in, he’s not staying at the hotel.”

“As I understand it, Darryl’s ex-wife is saying he owes her more money and there’s some sort of problem at work. That’s all his agent would tell me when he called to ask for the reservation. He did mention the vice-president had recommended the hotel.”

Rhonda shook her head. “That does it. Every time Amelia Swanson recommends the hotel to someone, we get caught in a bad situation. I still haven’t recovered from the kidnapping attempt.”

“I admit that was scary, but it was a one-time thing. We’ve beefed up security at the hotel and have vetted our guests whenever we feel it’s necessary.”

“Let’s take a walk on the beach. We do our best thinking there,” said Rhonda.

I happily followed her through the back of the hotel, the pool area, and onto the sand. An onshore breeze ruffled the fronds of the palm trees on our property and, satisfied that all was well at the hotel, I took off my sandals and followed Rhonda onto the beach.

The smell of salt air loosened some of the tension in my body. I always felt more clearheaded watching the waves roll in, kiss the shore, and back away in a rhythm as old as time. I went to the water’s frothy edge and dipped my toe into the cool wetness.

Seagulls and terns whirled above us, their cries echoing against the moving water. Down the beach, sandpipers and sanderlings trotted along the water’s edge looking for food, leaving tiny footprints behind.

I took in a deep breath of fresh air and let out a sigh of happiness. Then I turned and studied the hotel.

Like a lazy flamingo stretched along the sand, the front of it hugged a wide expanse of beach while the rest of the building’s image was softened by palm trees and the immaculate landscaping surrounding it.

“Look what we’ve done,” said Rhonda, throwing an arm around my shoulder. “Our own special baby.”

I laughed. We were surrounded by babies. Rhonda had three children and three grandchildren while I had my two kids and triplet grandchildren. But Rhonda was right. The Beach House Hotel was our special baby, born of the need to prove that two dumped women could make a new, better life on their own and with new men in their lives who truly loved them.

Rhonda and I took off, walking together on the sand, talking.

“We’ve always helped people,” said Rhonda. “And I like that part of the business we’ve built. But we have to be careful. Remember, when we first started our privacy-for-guests policy, you worried we were going to be running a place where all kinds of hanky-panky would take place.”

I couldn’t help laughing. We’d started that policy when certain members of Congress had come to us needing an upscale place to meet in secret. Since then, the hotel had hosted numerous VIP guests and endured many unusual experiences. But we were known for being as upfront and straightforward as we could be. Our guests came back again and again.

“Has Tina decided to bring the kids when she comes to the hotel?” Rhonda asked me.

“She’s leaving them at home with her nanny and bringing her personal trainer instead. She has to be ready to start filming in a month, and like her first time here, she needs to lose weight and get in shape. It must be hard to feel you have to be perfect to compete with younger actresses.”

“It can be a nasty business.” Rhonda grabbed my arm. “Speaking of nasty business, look who’s headed our way. No chance I can run fast enough to get away.”

“We’ll say hi and keep walking,” I said, hoping we could. Brock Goodwin was president of the neighborhood association and had been a thorn in our sides since the beginning when he’d tried to stop the hotel from opening. Though we’d succeeded in getting past those objections, he was always looking for a way to interfere. We detested him.

Tall, gray-haired, and in shape, Brock was sought-after by single women living in the area for his looks and suave manner which hid his true personality.

“Well, if it isn’t the two biggest troublemakers in the neighborhood,” said Brock.

“Hello, Brock,” I said moving past him. “We can’t stay to chat. We’re talking business.”

He ran to catch up to us. “Is there anything I should know about?”

“As you know, we keep business and our guests private,” said Rhonda.

He studied her. “I can already tell you’ve got something going on, something you no doubt want to keep secret,” he said in his presumptuous way. “You know I won’t rest until I find out what it is. After all, as president of the neighborhood association, it’s my duty to be well-informed.”

“I hear someone is going to run against you for that position. Someone new in town,” said Rhonda. “See ya later.”

We kept on walking.

A few minutes later, I looked back. Brock was still standing there staring out at the water. I nudged Rhonda. “Good job. He’s still wondering who might take his precious position away from him. You were kidding about it, right?”

“Yeah. Who wants to be president of a fuckin’ neighborhood association? No one. That’s who.”

I started to chuckle, and soon we were both laughing hard. We’d do anything to get Brock off our backs. After tricking him into bidding on something he couldn’t afford for a charity event, we’d made a special deal with him to stay away from the second guesthouse we were building on our property. It wasn’t a bad idea. The house was constructed in record time with no problems from anyone. It was this house that Darryl wanted to stay in.

When we headed back to the hotel, Brock wasn’t in sight. I decided to call our friend, Dorothy Stern, to tell her about Rhonda’s remark to Brock. Dorothy was a retired businesswoman who’d help us out when we first opened the hotel by doing volunteer work sending out notices and invitations to our special events. At just over five feet tall, she was the one person who seemed able to stand up to Brock. She’d been known to put him in his place more than once. We adored her.

We headed into the kitchen for a morning cup of coffee and one of Consuela’s cinnamon rolls. These treats had been helpful when trying to tempt early guests with reasons to stay at The Beach House Hotel. They had become a specialty of the hotel after a food critic from New York stayed at the hotel and mentioned it to all his fans.

Consuela greeted us with a smile. “ Buenos Dias! You’re just in time. A few minutes ago, I took a second batch of sweet rolls out of the oven.”

“Good morning. Did you have a nice couple of days off?” I hugged her. Consuela and her husband, Manny, had been working for Rhonda before we opened the hotel. They stayed on and became the heart of the hotel family. The two of them were the parents I always wished I’d had.

“We did have a nice break, though you know Manny,” said Consuela. “He doesn’t like to leave the landscaping of the property in anyone else’s hands for too long.”

“Annie, I told you when we first met, he’s my ‘Manny around the house’,” said Rhonda, giving me a wide grin.

Consuela and I glanced at one another and laughed.

At the time, Rhonda had also mentioned she had a beach house. I had no idea it was a seaside estate that had once been a small hotel.

“It’s nice to have you and Manny back with us,” I said, placing a warm sweet roll onto a plate.

“We couldn’t run the place without you,” said Rhonda giving Consuela a bosomy hug. “I’m going to take one more cinnamon roll to the office. Annie and I have to talk about an upcoming guest.”

We took coffee and our treats to the office we shared.

I no sooner sat down at my desk than my cell phone rang. Amelia Swanson.

“Hello, Madame Vice President. I’m going to put you on speaker phone in our office so Rhonda can hear too. Okay?”

“Yes. I just wanted to check to see if you’re going to be able to handle Darryl Douglas’s request. His agent is a friend of mine and the president’s too.”

“We have the request, but I’m not sure we can accommodate him. We’ll know more tomorrow. It would mean moving someone out of the guesthouse and into a room.”

“And after the last time we did you a favor …” Rhonda began.

“We’ll be sure to let you know,” I interrupted. I knew Rhonda was going to mention the kidnapping that took place, and I didn’t want to get her riled up and then say something we’d both regret. We’d survived a couple of tricky situations satisfying Amelia’s requests, and the thought of being forced to face the possibility of another traumatic one was worrisome.

“I’ve got to go,” said Amelia. “I hope you understand the political importance of this for me. I may be needing people in the media in the future.”

“We understand,” I said, “but we must be able to take care of our guests properly.”

“I’m aware,” said Amelia. “You know how much I appreciate your help in the past. I can’t think of a better place than your hotel to send people to.”

I felt my lips curving. Amelia was an excellent politician.

“We’ll have a decision tomorrow,” I said.

“Okay, I’ll hold you to it,” said Amelia. “How’s the weather? Any storms?”

“Nothing to report,” I said, crossing my fingers. Early fall was a time for hurricanes to

visit.

“Nice to talk to you. I may be down to visit my sister soon and hope to stop in,” said Amelia. “Thanks.”

She ended the call, and Rhonda and I faced one another.

Rhonda made a face. “That woman always gets her way. No wonder she’s close to the president. He couldn’t do his job without her.”

“That’s not the way that position usually works, but I agree with you.” I took a sip of coffee, my mind whirling. “Let’s see what we can find out about Darryl online. First, I want to return these dishes to the kitchen and check the dining room. It’s a bit of a slow time, and we need to know how the dining staff is doing.”

We walked into the dining room and saw Dorothy Stern sitting at a table with three friends deep in conversation.

I waved, and Rhonda and I went over to her. “It’s great to see you here. We have something to tell you in private. What are you ladies talking about?”

“Darryl Douglas. We think he’s having some kind of breakdown and wants to leave the show,” said Dorothy.

“It all started with that horrible ex-wife of his, Everly Jansen,” said one of the other women. “She’s greedy. She married him for his money.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t for his looks,” said another woman. “I love the guy, but you have to admit he’s not buff or drop-dead gorgeous like some of the stars he interviews.”

“That’s what makes him special. He has a quick wit, and the way he comes up with jokes is hilarious,” said Dorothy. “We’re all fans of his.”

“And none of us wanted him to marry that woman. We knew she was bad news,” said one of the women.

“I’m curious,” said Rhonda. “Why do you care so much about Darryl Douglas and his career?”

“I’ll tell you. As funny as he is, he doesn’t tear down other people to make us laugh like a lot of other comedians.” Dorothy glanced at the others for their approval. “I don’t know. He’s kind. Heaven knows we could use a lot more people like that.”

The other women at the table nodded their agreement.

“But shows like his seem meaningless,” countered Rhonda.

“You have to see his shows to believe us,” said Dorothy.

“Right. That’s why we’re watching one tonight,” I said shooting a look of determination to Rhonda. “But if what you say is right, it makes me like him already.”

“Let me know what you both think,” said Dorothy.

I gave her a thumbs up. Rhonda and I had to make that decision quickly, though we might regret it.