Page 18 of Bubbles at the Beach House Hotel

“Jane has a self-healing program she follows,” I told Rhonda. “I’m thinking of adding something like that to our mother’s retreat program.”

“Interesting,” said Rhonda before heading into the growing crowd to speak to several of her friends. While I’d met lots of people and made a couple of close friends, it didn’t compare to Rhonda, who seemed to know almost everyone in town. Those friendships had helped get our hotel underway.

Dorothy approached, and I introduced Jane to her. “She’s staying at the hotel and is excited to be here,” I explained.

“How nice to meet you,” said Dorothy, taking Jane’s arm. “Now, come meet some friends of mine.”

After they left, I checked the layout of the dining room, which had been closed to our hotel guests for a few hours to accommodate the luncheon. It would open again for the dinner crowd.

Round tables of eight covered with pink-linen tablecloths filled the space in front of a small stage where the female emcee would speak. The woman, Penelope Pierce, was a wealthy breast cancer survivor and was a generous donor at affairs like this one. Each year, she donated a four-day cruise aboard her yacht to one lucky couple.

Lorraine walked into the room carrying a basket of flowers and placed them on the lectern. I walked over to her, and we studied the room filling with guests.

“Thank you,” I said. “You’ve done a great job of seeing this room come alive for this event.”

“This is a worthwhile cause, and I’m pleased to help,” said Lorraine. “Here comes Penelope now.”

Penelope waved and came closer. “Everything looks so lovely. This is one of my favorite places.”

Rhonda walked over and gave Penelope a brief hug. “Let’s raise a lot of money. I’m counting on you, Pen.”

Penelope grinned. “You’re my biggest donor. Let’s see who we can get to join you. I see some women who can be a big help to us.”

I left them to stand by the door to greet arrivals.

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After people were intheir assigned seats, servers poured a light rosé wine for those who wanted it, and the luncheon began with a lot of chatter.

I was pleased to see Jane talking to the woman next to her at our table. She seemed to be having a good time and was enjoying the warm bread and roll selections with her wine.

The main course arrived. Arugula with fresh strawberries, grilled chicken, and goat cheese was served with a sweet wine dressing. I took a bite and sighed. It was one of my favorite light dishes.

Keeping to a simple menu, the meal ended with orange sorbet served with chocolate truffles.

We’d tried various menus for the group, but light food with a bit of decadence for dessert was what everyone wanted.

As dishes were cleared away, the women got up to use the facilities and to move around before the drawings began. Servers went through the room offering last-minute chances for raffle tickets to those who wanted to add to their online bids.

I noticed Jane buying some tickets, and then she left the room.

I was talking to Dr. Perkins when Jane returned to the table looking ill. Her face pale, she took her seat and clasped her hands to her cheeks.

“Jane, what’s wrong?” I asked.

“I think I saw someone I know,” said Jane. “I can’t be sure. But it was enough to frighten me.”

“Do you need to leave? Is there something I can do for you?” I asked, reaching across the table to grip her hand.

She shook her head. “It could be just my imagination. I shouldn’t have had so much wine after taking a pain pill.”

“Okay, let me know if you want to leave. I’ll help you out of here,” I said. Whether it was true or just an illusion, Jane was still upset. “How about a cup of coffee?”

“Yes, that might be helpful,” said Jane. “I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to bother you.”

I got up and went around the table to give Jane a hug. “I’m here for whatever you might need. Just let Rhonda or me know, and we’ll help you.”

“Thanks,” she said. “It was probably nothing. Just a mistaken identity.”

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