Page 3 of Nightcaps at The Beach House Hotel

“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 thewomen.

“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.

CHAPTER TWO

Rhonda and I sat on the couch in my living room facing the television. I’d fixed Irish coffee for each of us, and a plate of brownie bites sat on the table. Cindy, our black and tan short-haired dachshund, had been sent away from the food to Robbie’s bedroom to sleep with him. He was eleven now and growing fast, but he was still young enough to want his dog at night.

Rhonda let out a long sigh. “This house seems very quiet. My kids would still be fighting sleep,” she said, talking about her two children, Willow, eight, and Drew, six. Her oldest child, Angie, was in her late twenties like my daughter, Liz. They’d been college freshmen roommates, which is how Rhonda and I met. Now they were busy mothers of our collective six grandchildren. Hopefully, Liz and Angie would take over running the hotel, but that day seemed a long way off.

“Okay,” I said lifting my cup of special coffee. “Here’s to making a fair decision. Let’s enjoy the show.”

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