Page 8 of The Hotel Nantucket
“I know my linens.” Magda picks up the hydrangea-blue cashmere throw at the foot of the bed. “This is lovely.”
“All the rooms have them. They’re woven at Nantucket Looms especially for the hotel.”
“I hope they plan on weaving extras,” Magda says, “because these will ‘accidentally’ find their way into the guests’ luggage, I assure you.” She pokes her head into the walk-in closet and then the bathroom. “How many people would be on my staff?”
“Four,” Lizbet says.
Magda laughs. “That’s a tenth of what I’m used to. But it should be enough.”
“So what brought you to Nantucket?” Lizbet asks.
Magda sighs. “I spent the first half of my career on ships in the Mediterranean, then I requested a transfer back home to the Caribbean. When my brother’s wife died in September, I took my retirement and moved here to take care of him and my nephew Ezekiel.”
“Ezekiel English is your nephew? I’m interviewing him this afternoon.”
“He’s a lovely boy, as you’ll see for yourself.” She smiles. “Zeke and William have had a rough few months…but now that they’re back on their feet, a little job will fill my days.”
Lizbet raises her eyebrows. “This is more than just a little job.”
“Well, it’s not a cruise ship,” Magda says. “My standards are impeccable, as my previous employer will attest. I promise you, the hotel will be cleaner than it’s ever been in the past.”
Well!Grace thinks indignantly.I guess we’ll see about that.
After Magda departs, Lizbet considers going for a lunchtime run or grabbing one of the mountain bikes from the hotel’s brand-new fleet and powering out a quick ride. This morning she finally felt a thaw in the air, but as tempting as it is to go outside, Lizbet decides to stay at her laptop. First, she checks the references of a married couple—Adam and Raoul Wasserman-Ramirez—who have both applied for bellman positions. They currently work at the Four Seasons in Punta Mita, Mexico, and want to come to New England for the summer. Lizbet has been putting off deciding about Adam and Raoul because she isn’t sure hiring a married couple for the same job is a good idea, even though they both interviewed well over the phone. What if they bicker? What if one far outperforms the other?
The e-mail from the GM at the Four Seasons is glowing. It mentions that Adam has a “beautiful singing voice.” (How is this relevant?Lizbet wonders.He’s going to be schlepping bags.) The letter ends withWe at the Four Seasons Punta Mita have determined it’s best if the Wasserman-Ramirezes are scheduled separately.
Ha! Lizbet’s instincts were correct—but the reality remains that she needs three bellmen, and her options are limited. She’ll hire Adam and Raoul.
Next, although she has cautioned herself not to, she checks to see if there are any new reservations for opening week.
There’s one, a booking for four nights made by a couple from Syracuse. This is heartening, but the fact that the hotel’s overall occupancy is hovering at just above 25 percent a full week after the website went live is not. They placed banner ads on all the major travel websites, and Lizbet wrote what she felt was an excellent press release, but there have been very few takers. When Lizbet called Jill Tananbaum at theNantucket Standardto see what had become of her piece, Jill said, “Jordan told me he might run it at some point but he can’t say when.”
Lizbet hung up, discouraged. The reputation of the hotel was, admittedly, abominable, and Xavier’s interest in it was somewhat perplexing, but it had undergone a remarkable metamorphosis.
Building the new!she thinks. But only an instant later, she wonders if she’s in over her head. It had been far easier to sell herself to Xavier than she’d anticipated (considering she had no actual hotel experience)—and only now does Lizbet wonder how much competition she had. Is it possible she wasthe only personwho applied for this job?
Xavier has asked Lizbet to book him suite 317—historically, the hotel owner’s suite—from August 24 to August 28. It feels a little strange that Xavier isn’t coming until the end of August, but Lizbet is relieved. By then, she might know what she’s doing.
Lizbet isn’t sure where all this self-doubt is coming from; she’s probably just hungry. She’s tempted to run over to Born and Bread for a sandwich, but there isn’t time. Her next interview is here.
The third résumé is quite impressive,Grace thinks. Alessandra Powell, age thirty-three, applying for a front-desk position. The very first line announces (in boldface) that Alessandra is fluent in Spanish, French, Italian, and English. She has worked at hotels in Ibiza, Monaco, and, most recently, Tremezzina, Italy. This draws Grace back in time. When Dahlia Benedict was being “nice” to Grace, she would gab about her and Jack’s travels abroad. She told Grace that she and Jack had sailed to Europe aboard theMauretania,and when Grace murmured sarcastically under her breath that it sure was a good thing theMauretaniahadn’t hit an iceberg like theTitanic,Dahlia slapped her soundly.
It was a slap Grace deserved. By that point, Grace was so deep into the affair with Jack, she saw no way out. She very dearly wished theMauretaniahadsunk with both Jack and Dahlia aboard.
Grace is yanked back to the present moment when a young woman with long, wavy apricot-colored hair steps into Lizbet’s office.
No,Grace thinks.No!There’s a stench coming off the woman that means only one thing: a rotten soul.
The woman, Alessandra, holds out a white paper bag. “I brought you an ABC grilled cheese from Born and Bread on the off chance you’ve been so busy interviewing that you skipped lunch.”
Lizbet’s blue eyes widen. “Thank you! That was so…intuitive. Ididskip lunch, and the ABC is my favorite sandwich.” She accepts the bag. “Please, sit. So, Alessandra, your résumé is nothing short of remarkable—Italy, Spain, Monaco. And you speak so many languages! What brings you to our little island?”
“It was time to come home. To the States, that is, though I’m originally a West Coast girl. I studied romance languages in Palo Alto—”
“Were you at Stanford?” Lizbet checks the résumé. “It doesn’tsaythat here—”
“And then I did the whole backpacking-through-Europe thing—the train, the hostels—and I found myself flat broke in Ravenna. I went there especially to see the mosaics in the Basilica of St. Vitale.”
