Page 92 of Bubbles at the Beach House Hotel

“It’s going to be a busy day,” said Rhonda. “Apparently, the wedding party got out of hand last night, and there might be some late checkouts. Thankfully, Caro’s wedding party is so small. We’ll be able to let her people in their rooms early as requested. But some other guests might not be so happy.”

“Do we know how many people have come for Caro’s wedding?” I asked her.

“No, but I’m having the front desk prepare a report for us,” said Rhonda. “We need to be sure gift baskets have been placed in their rooms. Housekeeping will put them there at the appropriate time.”

“We’re going to use the second house for the ceremony, right? We need to make sure those guests will be leaving on time.”

“Let’s walk down there to see what’s happening,” said Rhonda.

We left the hotel and walked onto the sand. As I stood at the water’s edge, I saw that the wind was whipping a frothy topping on the crests of the waves. Though the air wasn’t hot, the sky was clear, and the sun warmed my cheeks.

“The weather channel said the wind would calm down as this system passed through our region today, sometime this afternoon.”

“I hope they’re right. I want this wedding to be perfect for Caro and Henry. Especially now that I know Amelia Swanson is going to be here.”

Rhonda shook her head. “I hope she doesn’t have another project in mind for us.”

I laughed. “I think she simply wants to support Henry and Caro.”

We’d been so busy talking that I didn’t notice Brock Goodwin until it was too late.

“Well, what are you two up to now?”

“Just business as usual,” I said.

“Did you hear? I was just elected for another term as president of The Neighborhood Association,”

“I’m sure no one ran against you,” I said.

“Yeah, it’s great that you think it’s important,” said Rhonda. “Nobody else does.”

“You’ll pay for that, Rhonda,” said Brock and walked away.

“I’m sorry. I can’t stand the man.”

“I get it,” I said, grateful that Brock had walked off in a huff before Rhonda could get fired up with an F-bomb or two.

We continued our walk up the beach to the path for the guesthouses.

At the house we were going to set up for the ceremony, our guests were swimming in the pool. Worried, I hoped they understood they had to be out of the house by noon.

Next door, Jane and Heather were sitting on the lanai and saw us before we got to the front door.

“Come inside, grab a cup of coffee, and join us,” Jane called.

Rhonda and I met them out on the lanai.

“A little windy today. I’m glad the wedding is inside,” said Heather. “I heard on the news the wind is going to be around for a while.”

“Hopefully, not by the time of the wedding,” said Rhonda. “Where’s the bride?”

“She’s inside, going over her wardrobe for her honeymoon. Caro and Henry are flying to Maui to stay in a house owned by the friend of the vice president,” said Jane.

“When do they leave?” I asked.

“Tomorrow afternoon by private jet,” Jane said, her eyes sparkling. “It’s so exciting.”

“It sounds perfect. I’m sure the house will be gorgeous,” said Rhonda.

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