by Judith Keim
Drew stood and tugged her to him. “Look what a treasure I’ve found.”
Cami laughed and gave him a quick hug. “Corny, but cute.”
They continued on their way, and then Drew broke into a jog. Holding her arms out to the sky, feeling as free as the birds whirling above her, Cami took off running behind him.
Later, sitting on the outside deck of one of the restaurants in town, Cami felt more relaxed than she had in years.
“Having a good time?” she asked Drew.
He grinned. “Yes. It’s a beautiful area.”
“Wish we could get to Tillamook Rock Lighthouse. I bet the views from there are spectacular.”
“At one mile offshore, not much to see except the coastline,” Drew commented. “Still it would be fun to see.”
“How about meandering around town this afternoon? I’d like to pick up a book at the book store and check out some of the art galleries. Does that sound okay?”
Drew shrugged. “Sure. we have some time to kill. Dinner reservations aren’t until seven.”
After finishing their meal and paying the bill, Cami and Drew headed out. At each art gallery, she attempted to speak to the owner. If they weren’t available, she left her business card and an old flyer of the art show at Chandler Hill.
“The more people we can get interested in it, the better it will be,” Cami explained to Drew who’d chosen to sit outside one of the stores on a bench.
“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere except maybe to the pub for a cold beer.”
She laughed. “Okay, I’ll meet you there. I have one more person to see.” The owner of the Pink Puffin Gallery, Iris Cowell, was someone she knew from her previous visits to Chandler Hill. It was especially important to Cami to invite her to participate in next year’s show.
Cami entered the gallery and stopped to gaze at her surroundings. Colorful artwork and handcrafted items met her eyes from every space inside—on the walls, in cabinets, and on shelves. It was, she decided, like stepping into a rainbow.
Iris saw her and waved. Leaving customers to browse under the watchful eyes of an assistant, Iris came over to her. “Cami! I haven’t seen you in ages? How are you?”
Cami gave her a quick hug. Not much taller than her grandmother, Iris was a warm and shining presence with her alert green eyes and ready smile. “I’m fine. How are you? We’ve got to get you back to the Chandler Hill Inn. In fact, that’s why I’m here.”
As Cami explained about the art show she was arranging for next summer, Iris’ smile disappeared and a frown creased her forehead. “Oh, my dear! I just made arrangements with the Lone Creek Winery for an art show to be held that very same weekend.”
Cami felt the blood leave her face and then rush back in a hot flood of color. “The Lone Creek Winery? The very same date?”
“I’m afraid so. Vanessa Duncan sent out an invitation last week and when she phoned me today, I agreed to do it.”
“But I’d already planned the show at Chandler Hill. She’s stolen another one of my ideas.” Cami felt like throwing up.
“I’m sorry. Why don’t you plan to have your show before hers?” Iris said, looking contrite.
“It’s too late. I’ve already signed up some of the artists who showed this year. I can’t change the date now. It’s the only weekend a lot of them have free.”
“Why don’t I call Vanessa back and explain to her that I’m going to appear in your show and suggest she change her date to sometime in the late fall?”
Cami felt the sting of tears. “You’d do that for me?”
“Yes, for you and for Chandler Hill. Your grandmother did a lot to promote my work when I was struggling to set up a business. Now it’s my turn to repay that debt.”
Cami hugged Iris. “Thank you! I’ve been fighting a battle with the people at Lone Creek. They’re out to make my life difficult. Competition is one thing; this is very different.”
“Hmmm. I saw the article about weddings at Lone Creek. It sounds like they’re doing a great job. Vanessa mentioned to me they’re trying a new concept for the outdoors people who want a different kind of wedding. They’re building a luxury campout for the bride and groom to be used after the celebrations at the winery. A clever idea.”
Cami reluctantly nodded. “She’s good at her job, but she shouldn’t try to get ahead by hurting us.”
“She confided that her fiancé is about to become the owner of the property. Maybe that’s why her actions are as aggressive as they are.”
Cami’s mind spun. Bernard had proposed to Vanessa? The deal with Bernard’s group to purchase the Lone Creek Winery was going through? What next?
Iris placed a hand on Cami’s arm. “Don’t worry. Chandler Hill has been in business for a long time.”
“But they’re making it sound as if we’re old-fashioned and boring,” Cami blurted.
“The only way Chandler Hill could be called old-fashioned is the way you bring class to what you do, my dear. The people who come to you for rest, relaxation and, yes, weddings, know what excellent service you provide. No one can copy that.”
Cami didn’t think it was that simple. Rod Mitchell had clashed with Nonnee, and now Bernard and Vanessa were doing everything they could to undermine her. In her mind, she could see Nonnee’s face and hear her voice. “Remember, you are a Chandler and a Lopez.” She straightened. “Let’s talk about my art show and then you can make your call to Vanessa.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
As she and Drew drove back to the hotel the following day, Cami wasn’t surprised to receive a phone call from the Lone Creek Winery. However, she’d thought it would be from Vanessa, not Bernard.
“Cami, you’re asking for trouble,” he said, his French accent pronounced by anger. “Vanessa has told me what you have done about her art show. Be careful. We don’t want anyone to disrupt our plans for the future.”
“You mean your attempt to buy the Lone Creek Winery?”
“Who told you that?” Bernard asked, caught off guard by her remark.
“I’m not at liberty to say,” said Cami. “And by the way, congratulations on your engagement to Vanessa. I’m sure the two of you will be happy together.” She forced herself to keep from sounding snide.
“Is that another of your rumors?”
“She’s calling you her fiancé,” said Cami, wondering if Vanessa was pushing this relationship too far, too fast, as she’d done with Drew.
“We’ve talked about it in passing, but nothing is official. That’s beside the point of this call. I’m warning you that if you try to pull another stunt like the one you did for the art show, I’ll make sure you never get a starred review for the inn again,” Bernard said with enough growl to make her believe him.
She clicked off the call and glanced over at Drew driving the car. “Bernard is upset about the art show, and he says he’s not officially engaged to Vanessa. I’d hate to see her get hurt by that cad.” She and Bernard had once talked about marriage too.
“After all Vanessa has done to ruin your business, I’m surprised you even care,” said Drew.
Cami remained quiet. She’d been deeply wounded by the insensitive way Bernard had dumped her. And even if Vanessa was someone she didn’t like, she wouldn’t want any other woman to be treated like that.
###
Once back at the hotel, Cami hurried into her office to see what she’d missed. A stack of messages and colorful notes awaited her on top of her desk. She quickly leafed through them then called Becca, Gwen, and Laurel to arrange a meeting for the next morning. She’d been gone only two days but a lot had happened. A child running in the swimming pool area had slipped and fallen on the pool deck, requiring a couple of stitches in his chin. Even though the child was technically at fault for running, the inn would take care of any expenses not covered by insurance. One of their restaurant hostesses had been placed on bedrest for the remainder of her pregnancy, leaving an important post vacant. Another employee working i
n The Barn had quit to go to work for Vanessa.
On the plus side, a last-minute fall wedding had been booked by the great-granddaughter of a well-known movie actress. Though it would involve extra work to make the occasion perfect, it was an important contact.
###
The next morning, Cami sat in her office with Becca, Gwen, and Laurel. “There’s a lot we need to catch up on,” said Cami. “Thanks for handling things while I was gone.”
“I found out something interesting,” said Becca. “I’ve followed up with your request to keep an eye on the property next door. One of my spies at Lone Creek Winery told me that they’re planning a special venue for outdoorsy couples who want an entirely different kind of wedding. They’re erecting a fancy, upscale tent for the wedding couple. Gourmet food, excellent wine, and candlelight will be part of the luxurious setting and service.”
“Yes,” said Cami, irritated all over again. “Iris Cowell at the Pink Puffin Gallery in Cannon Beach told me that when I went to sign her up for the art show. That’s how I discovered Vanessa was planning an art show for the same date next summer as ours. It’s another of her attempts to make things difficult for us.”
“Whaaat?” Laurel shook her head. “When is this nonsense with the competition going to stop. Doesn’t she realize we’d all do better to cooperate?” As head of the wedding department Laurel Newson wasn’t about to be on the losing end of any contest. Smoothly competent, she privately fussed and fumed each time she lost a bid for a wedding.
“I’m afraid she doesn’t get it,” said Cami. “What’s more, she’s under the impression that she and Bernard are engaged. She’s calling him her fiancé, but when I talked to Bernard, he said they’d merely talked about it. I’m afraid she’s in for a big disappointment.”
“The two of them alone are bad, together they’re impossible,” grumbled Gwen. “I shudder each time one of them comes into The Barn. I know they’re looking for ideas to make their own, but I can’t ask them to leave.”
“No,” agreed Cami. “You’re doing such a great job of managing The Barn you tempt them.”
Gwen shook her head. “Bad news, those two.”
“Vanessa may be trying to hurt our wedding business, but it’s not working. We’re holding steady,” said Laurel. “Sometime this fall, we’re getting an article in the magazine that featured Lone Creek Winery. And I left you a message regarding the Silverstone wedding.”
Cami held up the note. “Thanks. Fill me in on the details.”
“Allison Silverstone, whose father is a big producer in Hollywood, is flying in from L.A. this afternoon. She wants to meet you and go over the plans. The wedding is to be a small, private one without any paparazzi around.”
“Why here?” Cami asked. “We have lovely weddings, but she could go to Paris or Italy or any other place in the world.”
Laurel’s blue eyes sparkled. “She said there’s a special story behind her decision to use Chandler Hill for her wedding. That’s why she’s flying up here today, your first day back on the job.”
“Excellent!” said Cami. “Can’t wait to meet her.” She turned to Becca. “The report concerning the poolside accident has been completed for our lawyer and insurance company?”
Becca bobbed her head. “The accident should never have happened. The little boy was out of control, splashing people in the pool, running on the pool deck, and being obnoxious. His mother did nothing to stop him, simply kept on reading her book. You know, one of those guests.”
Cami groaned softly. Not all guests were pleasant to be around. “And what about the replacement in the dining room? Any luck on finding a new hostess?”
“We can use Bess temporarily, but she can only work two of the four nights we need her. I’ve called Rose at Nick’s to see if she’s available.” Becca shook her head. “This is such a bad time of year to be trying to find new help.”
“Tell me about it,” said Gwen. “Thankfully, my staff will cover for the salesperson Vanessa stole from us. But if she takes any more of my people, it would hurt us.”
“Have any of you heard rumblings from the staff regarding any possible problems?” Cami studied the faces of the three smart, loyal women she not only respected but had grown to love.
“The temporary staff I use for weddings can be a little iffy about their time commitments, but the core of them are reliable,” said Laurel.
“Let’s hire extra help for the upcoming wedding,” said Cami. “This could be an important one with a lot of good experience for us.”
###
After receiving a call from the front desk, Cami headed into the lobby area to welcome Allison Silverstone. From a distance she admired a tall, thin woman with blond, almost white hair dressed in skinny white jeans and a billowy turquoise top talking to the desk clerk. The rolling piece of Louis Vuitton luggage at her feet was slightly battered, indicating travel.
“Welcome to Chandler Hill Inn,” Cami called, stopping in surprise when Allison turned to her and smiled. Allison’s eyes were a startling, stunning green.
Hand held out, Cami moved forward mesmerized by the color of those eyes.
“You’re Camilla Chandler,” Allison said, studying her. “We might have more in common than you think.”
“What do you mean?” Cami’s gaze settled on the wide smile spread across Allison’s face.
“Is there someplace we can talk in private?” Allison said, glancing around the busy lobby.
“Sure. But wouldn’t you like to get settled in your room first?”
Allison shook her head. “I’d rather sit and talk.”
Putting on her professional smile, Cami said, “Okay. We can leave the luggage here behind the desk. Won’t you come with me to my office?”
As Cami walked beside Allison down the hallway, she quietly studied her. Glamorous but not overdone, Allison presented the picture of a sophisticated woman. Cami guessed from the confident, business-like manner in which she handled herself that Allison was in her thirties.
Cami opened the door to her office, indicated for Allison to go inside, and followed her. Allison stood in the middle of the room turning slowly in a circle, taking everything in. Then she walked over to Cami’s favorite photograph of Rex and Kenton Chandler. The two of them smiling into the camera were striking in appearance. There was a light in Rex’s eyes and an impishness to Kenton that she’d always found endearing. Nonnee had this color photograph enlarged and framed to look very much like a portrait.
Allison reached out and touched the glass that covered the photograph gingerly. She turned to Cami. “This is your family?”
“Yes. Rex was the original owner of the inn and the vineyards. His son Kenton was killed during the Vietnam war era and didn’t spend much time here. It was my grandmother, Violet Chandler, who got the inn up and running, along with the winery.”
“Ah, here she is,” said Allison, studying the photograph of Nonnee. “A striking woman. I can see such strength in her face. Yet, there’s a sweetness about her that one couldn’t miss.”
“Yes, she was both tough and gentle. I loved her dearly.”
Cami walked to her desk and waited for Allison to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of her.
After settling in her chair, Allison said, “I’ve got a story to tell you. It’s why I’ve chosen Chandler Hill Inn for my private, quick wedding away from the shine of Los Angeles. Do you have time to listen?”
Certainly,” Cami said. At this point, she wouldn’t let Allison leave without telling her.
After Allison had accepted the glass of water Cami offered her, she cleared her throat. “My family has lived and worked in Los Angeles and Hollywood forever. My father, Arthur Silverstone, is a well-known producer. My grandmother, his mother, was married to a film editor respected for his Academy Award winning work. It is my grandmother, Anne Gable, who is responsible for bringing me here. She died recently, and I was given her house and everything in it. In going through her belongings, I ca
me upon some information about my great-grandmother, Darla Rose, an actress in the forties.” Allison paused, then studied Cami. “Do any of these names mean anything to you?”
“No, I’m afraid not. I really don’t follow all the Hollywood news,” said Cami.
“Well, I didn’t know that much about my family until I did the work for my grandmother. Maybe it’s my upcoming wedding and the baby I’m carrying, but I’ve taken a sudden interest in my family’s history. Much to my parents’ distress, I’ve waited for the right man to come along before marrying anyone.” Her smile was charming. “Better to wait than to make a mistake.”
“I can see how important this might be to you, but why are you telling me?”
Allison continued. “In my grandmother’s old papers, I found a bundle of letters between Rex Chandler and Darla Rose. Apparently, they loved each other, but the studio wouldn’t let them marry. Can you imagine? There’s no mention of any children, but I thought I’d check with you. I mean, maybe you and I are related!”
Cami shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s possible in any case. You see, I carry the Chandler name, but my grandfather was not a Chandler, he’s a man by the name of Rafe Lopez, a close friend of Kenton Chandler’s. It’s something that’s almost never mentioned because my mother had a difficult time with it.”
“I know Violet, your grandmother, has passed. How about your mother?” Allison asked eagerly.
Cami drew in a long, painful breath. “My mother is gone too. She died in an accident in Africa when I was just six. My grandparents raised me.”
“Oh, dear! How awful!” Allison reached across the desk and squeezed Cami’s hand. “Thank you for listening to my story. I was hoping to tie up a loose end of history.”
“I understand completely. It’s something I’ve been trying to do myself recently.”
“Guess we all like to know who we are and where we came from,” said Allison giving her a sympathetic look.
“You have no idea how important it is to me. You see, Nonnee, my grandmother, grew up in foster homes and had absolutely no information about her parents. It’s different today, but back then it was sometimes impossible to know anything about them.”