Page 8 of Nightcaps at The Beach House Hotel

“Welcome to The Beach House Hotel,” I said, as a manof average height and with more pounds than normal for a television star sat and stared at us from inside the car. He had engaging hazel eyes and thinning brown hair that may or may not be enhanced by a toupee on television.

“We hope you have a wonderful stay,” Rhonda said.

“Now that you’re here, we’ll follow you and the limo to your house on the property. We’ll have you check in there, so you won’t be seen,” I said. “We understand how important that is to you.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I don’t want anyone to find out where I am. I need plenty of time to sort things out and to get some much-needed rest.”

He closed the passenger door and his driver followed our directions to get to the road leading to the two houses.

Rhonda and I easily walked there, pleased to see that no other hotel guests had noticed Darryl. We could promise to do our best to see he was isolated, but that was all.

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At the house, which was the one Tina had previously used, not the newer one, we ushered Darryl inside. We showed him around, explaining how certain things worked, and then had him review and sign the registration card and other agreements for his stay.

“You’ll notice that included in the agreement is a special section requiring your signature to respect the confidentiality of other hotel guests,” I said.

“The other house, just beyond here, is about to be occupied by someone who wants seclusion too,” said Rhonda. “So, please stick to your property.”

“Right,” I said. “There’s security assigned to both houses. Please respect him.”

“Okay,” said Darryl. “I figure I’ll use the beach early in the morning when few people are around. Otherwise, I’ll be here. I understand your chef, Jean-Luc Rodin, is exceptional. I’ll be ordering room service unless I feel comfortable going incognito in the dining room.”

“We understand,” I said. “You aren’t the only VIP requiring privacy who will be staying here.”

“Yeah, we don’t want you interviewing anyone here,” said Rhonda. “We saw you on television, ya know.”

Darryl bit his lip, and I realized he was shy.

Leaving the house with Rhonda, I mentioned that to her.

“Yes, I had a friend who could only get by in high school by telling jokes and making other kids laugh at him.”

“Tina and her trainer arrive tonight. Hopefully, she can get settled in without Darryl seeing her. But if it does happen, I’m sure Tina will make him understand that they both need secrecy.”

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That evening, Tina arrived in a black Town Car and went straight to the house she was renting.

Rhonda and I were waiting for her there as pre-arranged. We’d already ordered a snack tray accompanied by a bottle of wine and sparkling water for all of us to share.

At the sound of the car approaching, Rhonda and I stepped outside. With Tina, it was more a homecoming than greeting a beloved guest.

Tina got out of the car and hurried to greet us.

The three of us huddled for a group hug.

“It’s very good to see you. You look terrific,” I said to Tina.

“Not really,” said Tina. “I’ve loved being home with the boys, but now it’s time to get back to work. I have a wonderful role coming up, but it requires a lot of physical action. That’s why I’ve brought Abbie with me. Meet my personal trainer, Abbie Hathaway.”

As she and I shook hands, I was amused by Abbie’s firm grip. Of average height, dark-haired and with luscious brown eyes, Abbie appeared to be in her 30s and was a perfect model of fitness with a buff, trim body I knew I could never achieve. For such a tough person, her manner was sweet, almost shy. I liked her immediately.

“Don’t let her sweetness fool you,” said Tina. “Abbie is a monster when it comes to training. I have no doubt I’ll be ready for the movie when we get the signal it’s a go.”

“Why the delay?” asked Rhonda.

Tina shook her head. “I waited to get here before I told you. The hero of the movie is Sinclair Smith, who’s recently married and is on his extended honeymoon. Guess who he married?”

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