Page 1 of Nightcaps at 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.”

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