Page 40 of Bubbles at the Beach House Hotel
As luck would have it, by the time I got to the sunset deck, he was calling to me as he ran in my direction. “Ann! Wait!”
With no other choice but to face him, I stopped and waited for him to approach.
“Hello, Brock,” I said. “What are you doing out on the beach? I would think you’d be busy assessing property damage in the neighborhood.”
“That’s what I want to talk to you about. I’m wondering if you’d be neighborly and offer your landscaping services to the neighborhood. You’re doing so well with the hotel that you should be able to afford to pay your staff to work for me for a while.”
I held my breath and counted to three, grateful Rhonda wasn’t with me. Someday, she’d get her wish and wring Brock’s neck because he cared only about himself and his self-created reputation of being someone important.
“You know we can’t do that. Besides, I could never make such a commitment without approval from both our hotel manager and the head of our landscaping team.”
“Manny Sanchez would never agree to help me,” said Brock.
“Oh, that’s right,” I said, acting innocent. “It has something to do with the names you’ve called him upon occasion.”
“Well, I ...” began Brock.
“Besides, I thought the Neighborhood Association had a contract with a landscaping company,” I said. “What happened? They don’t want to work for you either?”
“Well, I ...” began Brock again.
I held up my hand to stop him. “ ’Nuff said. As you may imagine, I’m busy with the hotel. See you around, Brock. Maybe someone on the board has a better idea. You should try talking to them.”
Brock made a face and glared at me before he turned and walked away.
I knew very well that if he went to a board member about his troubles with the landscapers, they might find it an excuse to fire him. If only someone else wanted the job.
###
Italked with Bernieinside the hotel, who confirmed what I had suspected: things were in order.
At my urging, he finally agreed to go home to rest. Lorraine was in charge of another high tea, and we were continuing with a storm-inspired special cocktail hour in the lobby. Tomorrow, things would be back to normal.
###
Before I went homethat afternoon, I walked over to the guesthouse to talk to Amy. Jane had texted me that she and Slade were back from Miami.
When I arrived, Amy was sitting on the couch surrounded by her friends. She smiled at me when I walked into the living room. “Hi, Ann.”
“I’m here to see how you’re doing,” I said. “How did things go?”
Amy looked forlorn. “It was very sad and emotional for both my son and me. Such a waste of a man who once had so much to offer us and the world. I’m glad we’re waiting to have any service because our emotions are too raw now.”
“It was comforting to have Slade with you, I’m sure,” I said.
“Yes, it was. He’s very, very kind,” said Amy.
“Is there anything Rhonda and I can do for you? I understand the five of you plan to make a spa day of it tomorrow.”
“I’m looking forward to that,” said Amy.
“We all are,” Heather said. “We’re about to have some refreshments. Won’t you join us, Ann?”
“I’m afraid I can’t. But tomorrow, Rhonda and I may be able to meet you in the late afternoon. Your time here is going fast, and we hope to spend more time with you.”
“That’s a plan,” said Jane. She walked me to the door. “Thank you for stopping by. I know it means the world to Amy and all of us.”
“You five women are more like friends than guests.”
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