by Donna Vitek
"Well, if you're sure you won't need me for a few minutes," Loretta answered conscientiously, "I would like to look around in one of the gift shops for a birthday present for my niece. She'll be four day after tomorrow. But if you think things might get too busy around here…"
"I doubt they will," Allendre said wryly. "It's always dead around here this time of day. I suppose everybody's getting dressed for dinner. I don't think it'll hurt anything for you to take a break. Go ahead. Find your niece something really super."
"I did see a doll in one of the shops that I think she'll love," Loretta said, rising to her feet. "And they only had two left. I'd hate for both of them to be sold before I got a chance to get one."
"Then run on," Allendre commanded, waving her along, smiling to herself as the clerk grabbed her purse and hurried away. Loretta was a nice girl and a terrific co-worker. Allendre had yet to see even a glimpse of that lackadaisical attitude Loretta had exhibited on the day of Allendre's arrival. Ric's presence obviously provided her with initiative. Now that she knew what was expected of her, she was glad to give it. Unfortunately, not all the other hotel employees seemed glad to give a good day's work. With Ric here, they had become considerably more efficient, but they still lacked that spark of enthusiasm Loretta displayed. Allendre couldn't understand it, and apparently Ric was baffled, too; but Deb always simply shrugged off the problem, explaining it away by saying no one wanted to work for a living these days.
Except Loretta. Fifteen minutes later, she was back at the desk, grinning triumphantly as she showed Allendre a large package. "It was the last doll they had. Thanks a lot for letting me go get it."
Allendre lifted her shoulders dismissively. "No problem. While you were gone, there was only one call to the switchboard and nobody at all stopped by the desk. I've never seen it this quiet, and to tell the truth, I'm getting a little bored."
"Why don't you just leave, then?" Loretta suggested. "I can handle everything, and you'll have a few more minutes to relax before you dress for dinner."
"I think I will go," Allendre agreed, stepping toward the office door. "But first I'd better try to drag Mr. Shannon away from the July financial statement that arrived today."
"He does put in long hours, doesn't he?" Loretta said with some surprise. "I guess I never thought a hotel owner had to do much more than order everybody else around. But Mr. Shannon's different. He works hard, and that makes me want to work hard, too."
"And you're doing a fantastic job. Mr. Shannon's told me several times how proud he is of you." Smiling at Loretta's pleased expression, Allendre opened the office door, then tiptoed in when she saw that Ric was lounging back in the chair behind the desk, his eyes closed as if he were giving them a rest. She approached him quietly, then noticed his steady, slow breathing. He wasn't simply resting his eyes; he was actually asleep. With his face relaxed, she glimpsed an almost boyish vulnerability in his features and felt a sudden rushing desire to hold him close and perhaps lighten some of the overwhelming sense of responsibility he must feel for Shannon House. It was a new experience for her, this feeling of protectiveness toward him, but she supposed it was just another facet of being in love.
Tilting her head to one side, she watched him sleep, wishing she knew exactly where she stood with him. Their relationship seemed to be changing. They had spent the past three evenings together, once going to dinner in a quaint little restaurant in Southampton Parish and then on to an amateur theater production, and twice simply walking along the beach for hours, talking. There had naturally been moments when he touched her or kissed her and passion flared between them, but he no longer seemed only physically interested in her. It was tempting to hope that he might be beginning to feel some real affection for her, but she tried not to let her hopes rise too high. She had fallen in love with him, knowing very well that he didn't love her in return, and she needed to keep reminding herself that he never might.
If only he could, though, she thought, reaching out compulsively to touch his dark hair. When his eyes opened lazily to survey her with darkening intensity, a breathtaking excitement gripped her. His hands came out to span her waist, pulling her down onto his lap without a word. She didn't resist. As her head nestled in the hollow of his shoulder and he brushed a kiss against the scented thickness of her hair she sighed contentedly, curving her hand around his neck.
"It's nearly six," she whispered. "Don't you think you've stared at that financial report long enough?"
"Apparently not," he answered wryly. "I'd still like to know where all those extra profits are coming from, but Deb gives me only vague explanations, such as that sometimes the coffee shop turns in money without receipts, or that she's misplaced receipts. It's a good thing she didn't become an accountant; her record-keeping methods are abominable. It's a wonder to me the accounting firm makes any sense at all out of the records she's been sending them."
"Why are you so worried about the extra profits?" Allendre asked, wondering again about the overcharging allegations. "Don't you think Deb's telling you the truth?"
"I can't imagine why she'd lie. After all, it's not as if money is missing. But still, it's hard to understand how so many receipts can get lost in the shuffle around here."
Allendre snuggled closer, sensing his frustration and wishing she had some answers to give him. But she didn't yet. Even in a week, she had only witnessed two guests complaining about their bills, and the amounts they had protested had been so inconsequential that it would take many more than two of those a week to account for the unexplained profits. So, in reality, she was as confused as he was, but she planned to keep probing just in case Deb wasn't telling him the truth. At the moment, however, she only wanted to see him relax. "Why don't you forget that statement until tomorrow?" she suggested. "A nice dinner might make you feel better."
"It might if I could have it with you," he said, brushing a light kiss across her temple. "But I'd better call Deb up here early tonight and see if she can remember where some of July's extra money came from." His arms tightened around Allendre's waist as he whispered close to her ear, "I thought we might take a walk along the beach again after I've finished with Deb, if you'd like to. I'll call you."
She nodded, trying not to shiver as his warm breath caressed the sensitive skin of her neck. "I'd like that very much."
"Are you happy here?" he asked abruptly, tilting her chin back with one finger so she couldn't avoid his eyes. "Do you regret coming to work at Shannon?"
"You know I don't," she murmured, her lips parted as his mouth lowered slowly to hers. The kiss they exchanged was more a tender exploration than a passionate one, at least at first. His gentle fingers stroked her hair back from her face as she turned toward him with a contented murmur, but when his hand pressed between her breasts and her heart jumped and she moved against him, his lips hardened with abrupt, overpowering desire. He drew her bended knees close up against him as his mouth devoured hers with possessive urgency. And, as usual, she was nearly lost in the sensations he aroused in her, so lost that she didn't realize that the door had opened and they were no longer alone until he lifted his head. As his hand moved down from the rounded curve of her breast to her waist Allendre opened her eyes, blushing crimson when she saw Deb standing by the door glaring at them, a malevolent gleam in her hazel eyes. Though Allendre struggled to sit up, Ric held her fast against him, apparently not one whit disturbed or embarrassed by the intrusion.
"You're in early tonight, aren't you?" he asked calmly, at last loosening his grip on Allendre so she could stand and smiling at her indulgently when she unconsciously smoothed her clothing and her slightly tousled hair. Then he turned his attention to Deb again. "Did you want to see me about something?"
Miraculously, Deb controlled her temper, though she wasn't exactly friendly. "No. I didn't come to see you," she said stiffly, going to open a small closet. "I left my sweater here last night. I just came to pick it up."
"Well, if you young ladies will excuse me,
I think I'll go to the cottage and dress for dinner," Ric announced, rising to his feet with graceful ease. "Deb, I would like to see you here about eight-thirty. Try to be prompt."
"Why do you want to see me?" she asked defensively, her lips pressing firmly together. "What have I done now?"
"Nothing. I'd just like to talk to you," he answered as he went to open the door. Then he nodded at Allendre. "I'll call you later."
An ominous silence filled the room after he had gone, and Allendre hastily opened a desk drawer to remove her purse. Judging by the way Deb was glaring a hole through her, she thought it would be wise to make a speedy departure.
She wasn't allowed to, however. When she took her first step around the desk, Deb moved to block her way. "You're not much of a listener, are you?" she asked hatefully. "Didn't you believe me when I told you you'd be making a mistake to get involved in a holiday romance with Ric? Surely you don't think he's really serious about you? I told you he's had holiday romances every summer he's been here since he was seventeen. So I hope you're not stupid enough to think you mean any more to him than any of those other girls did. You're just a temporary diversion, and that's all you are."
"But I'm not on holiday anymore," Allendre reminded her calmly. "Remember, I work here now."
"I'm well aware of that!" Deb snapped. Her sparkling diamond stud earrings couldn't match the angry gleam that flared in her eyes. "But don't think you'll keep my job long, because you won't! When Ric gets tired of you—and he will soon—I'll be the day manager here again and you'll be packing your bags and heading for home."
"You have a right to your opinion," Allendre murmured. "But I don't happen to agree with you."
Deb laughed viciously. "Well, you'd better. You don't know Ric, but I do, and someday he'll realize I'll always know him better than anyone else. That's important to a man, knowing he's understood. And don't think that just because Ric's physically involved with you he's not involved with me anymore. He is! He knows I'll wait out all his one-night stands and be right here when he comes back. And he always comes back."
"I see no point in discussing this," Allendre said, somewhat embarrassed by the older girl's virulent outburst. "So if you'll excuse me…"
"The truth hurts, doesn't it, honey?" Deb taunted, moving aside to let Allendre pass. "But let me tell you just one more thing so you'll really understand the situation—I'll marry Ric someday. I know that for a fact. He loves me, and when he's finished sowing his wild oats, I'll be waiting for him. Men tend to marry girls they've known all their lives. Did you know that is a proven fact?"
"I must have missed that particular survey," Allendre answered, placing her hand on the doorknob as she glanced back at Deb's anger-flushed face. This scene was becoming increasingly distasteful, and she wasn't about to argue about Ric as if she and Deb were two silly adolescents fighting over the high-school football star. After giving the older girl a nearly pitying smile, she opened the door and walked away.
Later that evening, after dinner, knowing that Deb was at her meeting with Ric, Allendre visited Lawrence Hopkins. He was such a pleasant, entertaining man and seemed so eager for company that she went to see him as often as she could. Since he knew all the ins and outs of the hotel business, she could ask his advice, and that obviously pleased him. She suspected he was feeling a bit useless with no real work to do, and she planned to ask Ric if he would be willing to let Lawrence work at least two or three hours a day at Shannon House. His counsel would take some of the burden of responsibility from Ric's shoulders, besides revitalizing Lawrence's own self-respect. He seemed well enough to work part time, and Allendre wondered rather uncharitably if Deb had insisted he stay home out of concern for his health or simply because she had enjoyed running the whole show herself.
After saying good night to him about nine o'clock, Allendre crossed the lawn to the staff apartments where she now stayed, pausing as she noticed Derek Harrison leaning against a lighted lamppost as he stared at Ric's house, a brooding expression on his face. Wandering over to him, she gave him a smile that faded when it wasn't returned. "Nice night, isn't it?" she commented conversationally. "Have you ever seen such a lovely full moon?"
"Hadn't noticed it. Sorry," he replied, his very British accent more clipped than usual. "And, personally, I can't see why you should think it's a nice night. We're both in the same boat, you know."
"Same boat?"
"They're together right now," he announced harshly, dropping his cigarette to the ground and twisting his heel down on it with unnecessary violence. "Your irresistible Patrick Shannon and my silly Deb."
"He's not my Patrick Shannon," Allendre protested. "Why did you say it that way?"
Derek laughed shortly, humorlessly. "You don't have to pretend with me. I know—everybody knows— you've fallen for the incomparable Patrick, just as all females do. What is it about him? Why do you all find him so attractive? Or is that an extremely stupid question? I expect it is. He's reasonably attractive, a real charmer, and of course the fact that he has tons of money doesn't hurt a bit, does it?"
Allendre turned away, but as she started to walk off, Derek caught her arm. "Sorry, love, that was a bit harsh, wasn't it? Just put it down to the fact that I'm in a devilishly bad mood."
"You're in love with Deb, I assume," Allendre said candidly. "And you think she's involved with Ric?"
"I don't think; I know," he muttered. "After all, she's told me so herself often enough."
"But…"
"We were going to be married three years ago, did you know that?" Derek interrupted sullenly. "We had even set the date. Then Shannon paid one of his imperial visits, got himself involved with Chantel Fucilla, and Deb decided she couldn't stand to see him with another woman. Said she was still in love with him, after all. She broke our engagement and tried to lure him away from Chantel. She didn't have much luck. Shannon broke off with Chantel, but not because he wanted Deb. He just went back to New York then. But Deb was obsessed with the idea of waiting for him until he realized she was his one true love."
His tone was so sarcastic that it prompted Allendre to murmur, "But you obviously don't think she is his one true love."
"Hmmph! Why should he tie himself down to one woman when all of them throw themselves at his feet?" Derek questioned resentfully. "Deb's just slipped back into adolescence, if you ask me. She always was infatuated with Shannon, with his entire family, actually. She wants to be one of them instead of just Debra Hopkins, niece of the manager. I think she's more in love with Shannon's position than she is with him."
Allendre had gotten that impression herself, so she could sympathize with Derek's frustration. "I suppose you've tried to talk to her about this?"
"I suppose I have. Repeatedly," he answered bitterly. "It's about as productive as talking to a stone. She won't listen. As I said, she's obsessed with becoming part of the Shannon family. So obsessed that she'd do anything for Patrick, even let him use her. Why else do you think they're together tonight?"
"Oh, but you're wrong if you think that they're… I mean, they're just at the office discussing July's financial report. That's all," Allendre explained hastily, touching his arm. "So you have nothing to worry about. As far as tonight's concerned, anyway."
"At the office, huh?" Derek snorted, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he jerked his head in the direction of Ric's house. "Discussing July's financial report? Come on, now, you seem like a sensible girl. Don't tell me you can be as unrealistic as Deb. If she and Shannon are discussing business, why did they have to go strolling arm in arm into his cottage to do it? Answer that one for me, would you?"
A sinking ache dragged at Allendre's stomach as she, too, stared at the gray stone house, ablaze with lights from all the downstairs windows. "Are… are you sure they're in there?" she asked weakly, dreading the answer. "Did you actually see them go in? I don't see how. After all, Deb's working tonight."
"So? She probably got Marie from the coffee shop to cover for her. She'
s done it before."
"But that doesn't mean—"
"Doesn't it?" Derek interrupted grimly. "Then what does it mean that I saw Shannon's bedroom light go on right after they went inside the house, then go off again almost immediately?"
Allendre gestured uncertainly. "It could mean Ric went up to get something from his room. It could mean…"
"You know bloody well what it means!" Derek muttered furiously. "I told you Deb's willing to do anything in the hope of snaring Shannon, and he's decided to take advantage of that. Again. This won't be the first night they've spent together."
"I think you're letting your imagination run away with you," Allendre said stiffly, turning away, unwilling to hear any more of his disturbing speculations. "Just because they're at Ric's house, you shouldn't jump to the conclusion that they… they've…"
"Gone to bed together?" he finished for her indelicately. "I think that's the only reasonable conclusion we can reach. And if you'd be honest with yourself, you'd admit it is. But you're obviously as besotted with the mighty Patrick Shannon as Deb is, God help you."
Allendre had had enough. Her voice choked on her words as she tried to bid him good night and she rushed away, wishing the smothering constriction in her chest would ease. Derek was simply violently jealous, she tried to tell herself, and he was jumping to ridiculous conclusions. Ric and Deb would not spend the night together. Allendre was certain they wouldn't. After all, he had promised to take her for a walk on the beach after his meeting with Deb.
Letting herself into her tiny efficiency apartment, Allendre switched on the light and went to sit down in the chair next to the phone. If only Ric would hurry and call and prove that Derek had been totally wrong… But though she sat there waiting for nearly three hours, the telephone never rang at all.