Dinner at the Beach House Hotel

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Dinner at the Beach House Hotel Page 16

by Judith Keim


  “Thank you. I’m glad you’re here,” said Angela.

  “Me too,” said Katherine, giving Angela a steady smile. “Arthur wasn’t sure we should make the trip so soon, but I wanted to see my grandson.”

  Katherine moved toward Angela and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  “Thanks, Mom,” said Reggie softly and the tension in the room evaporated.

  I took the opportunity to say good-bye. “See you later. Much love to you all.”

  “Stay,” said Robbie, tugging on my hand.

  Before he could work himself into a temper tantrum, I swooped him up into my arms. As I left the room, I heard Katherine say, “Who was that child?”

  “Ann’s new little boy,” said Rhonda. “It’s a long story.”

  “Oh my! I can’t keep up with the two of you,” Katherine replied.

  Rhonda laughed. “Don’t even try!”

  As I moved down the hallway, Katherine’s reaction made me smile. Nobody could keep up with us. Our lives seemed to be filled with one surprise after the other.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I’d just put Robbie to bed that evening when Vaughn called.

  “Hi, Ann! Did I catch you at work?”

  “Yes, but not at the hotel. At home. Elena wasn’t feeling well, and Robbie was showing signs of needing time with me, so I stayed home today. And, believe me, spending the day with a toddler is a whole lot of work.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, I bet. I’ve been busy too. I’d hoped to come home next weekend, but it looks like that isn’t going to happen. And the weekend after that is the fishing trip in Alaska, so it looks like I won’t see you for a while.”

  I bit back my disappointment. “I understand. Next weekend is the Bauer wedding, so I’ll be tied up a lot of the time. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t love to have you here.”

  “Just a few weeks, then our wedding and a whole month off for me.” His voice grew husky. “Just think what we can do then.”

  Anticipation curled through me. The thought of Vaughn spending a whole month with me was tantalizing.

  We exchanged news and talked more about Robbie and the need for one of us to be able to spend more time with him.

  “I’ll make an effort to do more things with him when I’m home,” Vaughn said. “I’ve got to go now. I’ll call you as often as I can. Can’t wait until you’re officially mine.”

  I smiled. Now that it was becoming a reality, I was getting more and more excited about our wedding plans coming to fruition. A small, informal wedding and a short honeymoon sounded perfect.

  ###

  When I walked into the hotel’s kitchen the next morning, Consuela was pulling a sheet pan of our famous breakfast rolls out of the oven.

  “Smells delicious,” I said, pouring myself a cup of coffee. “Anything new?”

  Consuela smiled. “I think Bernie and his lady friend are getting along nicely.”

  “Lady friend? Do you mean Annette Bauer?”

  She nodded. “Si. He is so happy.”

  I smiled. “Very interesting.”

  As I walked toward my office, I noticed Annette and Bernie having coffee in the dining room and went over to them.

  “Hi, there! You two are up early. What’s happening?”

  Bernie got to his feet. “We’re discussing the wedding.”

  Annette smiled up at me. “Actually, we’re discussing a lot of different things.”

  I accepted the chair at the table Bernie offered me and joined them.

  “Did you know Bernie and I met several times in New York when he was dating his girlfriend?” Annette’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she gazed from me to Bernie. “We liked each other then, but neither of us was free. Now we are.”

  “Yes, indeed,” said Bernie formally, taking a seat once more. Though he acted as though nothing much was going on between them, the lingering, loving look he shot Annette gave him away.

  Why, they’re in love, I thought. Rhonda was going to be thrilled, though I suspected it had little to do with her matchmaking efforts—something Rhonda would never admit.

  “Where’s Trudy?”

  “In my office, waiting for us to get her. She knows she’s not allowed in the dining room,” said Bernie.

  “Such a darling dog,” commented Annette, bringing a smile to Bernie’s face.

  “Is everything set for the wedding?” I asked Bernie.

  He glanced at Annette. Color flooded his cheeks.

  Annette clasped his hand and turned to me. “Bernie has been such a help. It’s beautiful. Thank you so much.”

  “I’m so pleased. For both of you,” I said, rising. “Guess I’d better get to my office. Annette, I know I’m leaving you in good hands.”

  Annette’s cheeks flushed a pretty pink.

  I was going over financial projections when Rhonda strode into the office, grinning. “Oh my God, Annie! I did it! I did it! Bernie and Annette were holding hands when I met them outside. I knew it! They’re made for each other!”

  I chuckled. No way was I going to burst her bubble. If she wanted to believe she had spread some sort of magic, I was going to let her.

  Rhonda set down her purse and plopped into her desk chair. “Sorry to be so late, but as usual, Willow was hungry.”

  “No problem. How did everything go yesterday?”

  “Things at the hotel were great. Tim is learning more and more about running a property like this from Bernie. He was a huge help.” Her expression became somber. “And Ange is doing very well with her baby.” She paused. “And Katherine.”

  “Oh?” I said, wondering at the tinge of sadness I heard in her voice.

  “Yeah, the two of them are like...real buddies. I offered to go over and help Angela, but Angela said she didn’t need me, that Katherine was going to help her. What’s that all about? I’m her mother.”

  I rose and gave Rhonda a needed hug. “It’s about trying to get along with a difficult mother-in-law. It will make a world of difference to Angela if she and Katherine can become friends. It’s not about her not needing you.”

  Rhonda nodded thoughtfully. “Oh, yeah. Right. I hadn’t thought of it that way. Good. I can live with that.”

  I smiled. “Of course. Now, what do you say? Should we give the go-ahead and buy some new spa products?”

  Soon we were in discussion about hotel matters.

  The hours slipped by, with Rhonda leaving to feed Willow and quickly returning to carry on business. Late afternoon, I decided to take a break so I could spend some time with Robbie.

  Later, when I returned to the hotel to help cover the dinner hour, Rhonda was already in the office.

  “Annie, we’ve gotta talk,” she said. “Will is upset with me for spending so much time at the hotel. He’s right. The baby is a blessing we never expected. I want to spend more time with her. And you’ve already mentioned you should spend more time with Robbie. We need to do something about it. Like Will says, we hired Bernie to run the hotel for us, but we’re not letting him do it.”

  My mouth turned dry. I sat at my desk, trying to fight the worry that seized me. I’d always thought of the hotel as our baby—Rhonda’s and mine. I’d worked hard to make sure it was a success. How could I trust someone else to have that same sense of dedication?

  “Let’s talk to Bernie,” said Rhonda. “Okay if I text him now?”

  My blood turned into an icy river. Numb, I nodded. I’d promised Vaughn to have more time for him. I wanted to be a real part of Robbie’s life. And after suffering the blow of losing her father, Liz needed my support.

  Bernie entered the office, followed by faithful Trudy. The dog, used to me now, jumped up into my lap. I held tight to her and listened while Rhonda spoke.

  “Bernie, we need to have you take on more responsibility so Annie and I can have more time with our families. What do you say?”

  Bernie gave me a penetrating look. “Are you on board with this, Ann?”

  I drew a deep breath, let it out
slowly. My life was about to take another major turn whether I wanted it to or not.

  “Good,” said Bernie, “because I was about to tell you both that I’ve been offered a job in New York City. Annette thought I might want to consider it.”

  Stunned by the news, I gripped the arms of my chair. “Are you going to leave us?”

  “Not now. I like it here.” He raised a finger in warning. “But I’ve been waiting for you to recognize that I can do a lot more than you’ve allowed me to do. As general manager, I should be doing a lot of the work you are doing. I’ve mentioned it before. Now, maybe we can agree to let me do the job you’ve hired me for.”

  Rhonda and I exchanged looks of dismay.

  “As owners, we need to know what you’re doing and how things are going,” I said.

  “Of course. We can set up meetings on a regular basis. Maybe two or three times a week. And, Ann, while I am perfectly capable of handling the day-to-day business at the hotel, I cannot take the place of the two of you in making social contacts. The Beach House Hotel has succeeded in large part because the two of you represent the hotel.”

  “Yeah,” said Rhonda. “Guests like it when we greet them and all.”

  “More than that,” said Bernie, “you’re handling of special events with high-powered people has given them a sense of trust that their privacy will be protected—something many larger hotels are unable to control.”

  My mind spun. It would be wonderful not to be stuck behind a desk all day. It might be fun just to look over reports someone else had prepared and make recommendations to others.

  “What about staff? Do we have enough?” I asked him. “Tim is your assistant and can take on more work, I’m sure. We could make Julie front office manager and bring in people to assist her or you. We could hire a good bookkeeper too. What do you think?”

  “Good idea, Annie,” said Rhonda.

  “How about I come back to you with my recommendations?” said Bernie, calmly, firmly. “You can review them, and then we can talk.”

  I swallowed hard. This is how it would be in the future. “Okay. I’m going to call my hospitality consultant in Boston to get some information about how other small, upscale hotels are organized and staffed. Then maybe we can amend your contract. You are willing to make a commitment to stay, aren’t you?”

  Bernie smiled. “Yes, indeed. Annette likes it here too.”

  “Oh? Do you mean you and Annette...” Rhonda began.

  At my glare, she stopped talking.

  Bernie checked his watch and rose. “Thank you both so much for this opportunity. The Beach House Hotel is a stunning property that deserves all the attention I can give it. I promise you I’ll do a good job.”

  Trudy jumped off my lap, and she and Bernie left the office.

  “Well, what do ya know,” said Rhonda, beaming at me. “Guess our timing is right. What would we have done if we lost Bernie?”

  “I hate to even think of it,” I said. “But it isn’t going to be easy to hand things over to him. We’ve done everything ourselves.”

  “We’ve gotta try, Annie. We’ve gotta try.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  As I told Vaughn about the change in my role at the hotel, tears stung my eyes. I felt like a young mother sending her only child off to kindergarten. The hotel had been, in so many ways, something I’d borne—a special creation Rhonda and I had produced even while facing huge obstacles.

  “Don’t worry, Ann,” said Vaughn. “As Bernie indicated, you and Rhonda will still be needed at the hotel; you just won’t be dealing with the daily grind. With your spending less time overseeing day-to-day operations at the hotel, think of what it might mean to both of us. I’d like you to spend more time with me in New York and travel with me to other locations around the world.”

  “What about Robbie?”

  “He’ll be with us when it’s feasible, of course. Our home will continue to be with him in Sabal like we’ve agreed.”

  “It sounds good,” I said, realizing how free my life could be away from my duties at the hotel.

  We talked for a while longer, and then Vaughn said, “I’ve got to go. My transportation is here. Good luck with the wedding. I’ll call you after our special filming.”

  As we hung up, I appreciated how easily Vaughn made me feel better about things that troubled me. I loved that about our relationship.

  ###

  With the arrival of the first wedding guests, the hotel came alive with activity. Cheerful voices filled the rooms and on the patio around the pool.

  I walked into Bernie’s office for the first of our transitional meetings.

  Bernie rose to greet me. “Where’s Rhonda?”

  “She’ll be along. She’s checking with Jean-Luc on the matter of meals for the rehearsal dinner and the wedding luncheon.”

  A frown creased Bernie’s brow.

  “It’s something she’s always done,” I said, aware of his unhappiness. “She and Jean-Luc work well together.”

  “I understand, but in the future, I’ll handle that. I’ve already talked to Jean-Luc about the changes in management. We have an understanding that he’s in charge of his kitchen and can handle things his way.” He gave me an apologetic look. “It’s best that way.”

  “You know how chefs are,” I quickly said, eager to ease the situation.

  “Yes, indeed,” Bernie said with a touch of irritation in his voice.

  I winked at him, and he laughed. “They’re all the same. The good ones anyway.”

  Rhonda arrived, and we went over plans for the wedding. True to his word, Bernie had prepared schedules and other reports for us to look over. Staffing for the wedding included hiring two temps to act as bartenders and another couple of temps as dishwashers.

  “We need to hire two part-time bartenders on a permanent basis,” said Bernie. “After the wedding, I’d like to look into it. With the lunch and dinner business growing and the additional sunset promotions I’ve put in place, we need them to be available to properly serve our guests.”

  “How much is that going to cost?” I asked, forcing myself to loosen my grip on the arms of my chair.

  Bernie smiled at me. “I knew you’d ask, so I drew up this schedule of labor hours, payroll, and overtime we’ve paid and some projections that factor in the additional business our promotions are bringing in.”

  We discussed the particulars briefly for clarification while I weighed the pros and cons in my mind. As long as there would be a return on the investment, I’d leave it up to Bernie. It was only fair.

  “Sounds good,” said Rhonda, and I agreed.

  By the time we left the meeting, I was on board with what Bernie had done and planned to do. The wedding was his first test of leadership, and he was handling it well. The look of pride on his face was telling. It was his confidence, more than anything else, that made me more comfortable with turning the bulk of managing the hotel over to him.

  As we’d all agreed, Rhonda and I would be present during the wedding weekend. Bernie and Annette would continue to be photographed for the wedding brochure. We planned to send these new brochures to various outlets, including a couple of brides’ magazines and online, wedding-planning websites.

  Following our meeting, Rhonda invited me to her house for lunch. Suddenly aware of our freedom, I happily agreed. Though things could never return to the pre-hotel days, we were now available to have a more normal life.

  As I relaxed on her patio, I gazed at Rhonda and wondered what would have happened to me if we hadn’t met. Without the hotel, I might never have met Vaughn. I wished he weren’t going to make the trip to Alaska. The journey in the wilderness seemed so dangerous, so far away.

  ###

  On the day of Babette’s wedding, I walked into the hotel and stood a moment admiring the colorful, fresh flowers that sat atop the round table in the front entry. In return for the mention in our wedding brochures, Floral Designs had done an outstanding job of providing flowers f
or the occasion.

  The small, late-afternoon ceremony would take place on the side lawn of the property where shade, flowering plants, and lush landscaping provided an intimate setting and some protection from the warm, late-April temperatures.

  I stepped out onto the lawn to check on the arrangements. Folding chairs covered in white cloth to which tropical flowers had been pinned were lined up on either side of a wide, white-cloth aisle runner for the bride to walk on. Max Hoffman would walk Babette down to the simple altar that had been built especially for the occasion. A local minister from the Presbyterian church had agreed to perform the ceremony.

  “It sure looks pretty,” said Rhonda, joining me. “Just think, maybe Willow will be married here one day.” She elbowed me. “Or Liz. Angela tells me that Liz and Chad are pretty happy about his visit to Boston. She thinks he may be the one for Liz.”

  “Really?”

  Rhonda grinned. “Maybe she’ll up and get married, like Angela.”

  “I hope not,” I said sincerely. When the time came for Liz to get married, I wanted to be a big part of the celebration—before, during and after.

  “Well, one thing’s for sure,” said Rhonda. “Our lives are changing.”

  We moved aside for the photographers, who wanted a clear shot of the wedding venue.

  As the time for the ceremony came closer, Rhonda and I moved to our usual greeting spot at the top of the front-entrance stairs of the hotel, greeting wedding guests and directing them outside.

  Rhonda and I followed the last of the wedding guests through the hotel and out to the side lawn. Musical notes from the harpist we’d hired for the occasion danced in the air—light harbingers of the music that would bring people to their feet.

  The wedding march began.

  Babette, a striking blonde, walked toward us on the arm of Maxwell Hoffman. In a long, white, lacy dress and simple veil, she looked as angelic as the excited smile that spread across her face. Standing up in front, her fiancé, a nice young man from New York City, beamed at her with such love that tears stung my eyes.

  A collective sigh filled the garden as Babette moved down the aisle. There is something so wonderful about weddings, I thought, thinking of my own. In a little over six weeks, I would again be a bride.

 

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