Page 14 of Hibiscus Heights (Crown Island #4)

“ A re you sure there’s no way to get my shipment any sooner?” Sitting in an extra room in the executive offices, Deb clutched the phone. Her stomach growled so loud she hit mute while her contact spoke.

She needed these vintage surfboards to arrive for the grand reopening.

They had belonged to famous early surfers who’d stayed at the Majestic and ridden the waves around the island.

The boards were part of the hotel’s history, so she had tracked them to a collector in the South Pacific.

He’d recently passed away, and his daughter had been eager to sell them.

The surfboards would serve as part of her visual collection celebrating the history of the Majestic Hotel.

Editors, writers, and photographers from surfing magazines and websites would be at the event.

Maileah planned to auction one board at the event, much like the successful broken boards fundraiser she’d held a few months ago.

Surfing events hosted on the island drew large crowds to the hotel.

The shipping manager paused. “Are you still there?”

Deb unmuted the phone. “I’m here.”

“The package is on its way, but the problem will be getting it through your customs.”

“I’ll see what I can do on my side. I know this was short notice, so I appreciate you working with me.”

The surfboards were important, but so were many other things.

A local artist, working on a custom seascape painting that was to be an essential focal piece, had been rear-ended by a texting tourist. She’d suffered a whiplash and injury to her wrists.

When she was finally able to work again, her progress slowed due to the excruciating pain.

Deb didn’t want to push the artist, but she had to put a temporary piece in that spot that would look good without breaking her budget.

Deb drummed her fingers on the desk. She also needed to resolve issues with the new spa decor.

Standing, she peered from the window. She spotted Mason and Teddy on surfboards, paddling in the small waves with an instructor. They looked so adorable trying to stay on their boards. After they’d talked about surfing, she’d given them the name of an instructor Sailor recommended.

It seemed their aunt approved of the lessons. Deb smiled at their antics.

Mason had been following Sailor and his surfing career, so he was thrilled to learn to surf. Sailor promised he’d drop by and surprise them.

A man walked to the water’s edge and waved at the boys. She’d seen him earlier with the boys when she passed by the terrace cafe on her way back to the office. Presumably, this was their father.

The ogre. Watching him, she folded her arms in disgust.

She recalled how worried the boys were about their father discovering their mistakes. There had to be an explanation behind that.

However, it wasn’t her place to step in unless she saw a dangerous situation. She would keep her eyes open.

After what she’d gleaned about him, she had no desire to meet the man. Maybe she’d see the boys on their own around the hotel. She wondered how long they would stay now.

She would miss Teddy and Mason when they left. Still, they were part of the summer crowd, and Deb understood the limitations to continuing friendships.

When she was younger, many of her friends had their hearts broken after their summer romances ended without a word.

Ghosted , as Maileah and Junie would say.

She ran her hands over her forehead, dispelling the memories.

Her stomach growled again, and she remembered she’d skipped breakfast to meet a man who specialized in antique refurbishment. Some of the original chairs were unstable, and while they wanted to keep them, they couldn’t risk a guest injury if a chair collapsed.

But she had to eat.

Deb picked up the phone again. “Hi, Kelsey. I want to place a lunch order, but I don’t need a table.”

“Would you like that delivered, or will you pick it up?”

Delivery was tempting, but she needed to step away from her desk. “Make it to-go, please.”

Walking to the cafe would help her shake off her frustration about the delays in surfboards, artwork, and furniture. If she cleared her mind, she could focus on solutions.

But not on an empty stomach.

Deb picked up her purse and left the executive offices. The hotel corridors were quiet this time of day, with most guests either eating, enjoying the beach, or exploring the island.

She’d been so caught up in the renovation details she’d barely taken time for herself lately. She missed her run with Duke again today, and he’d let her know he wasn’t happy about it.

As she approached the ladies’ room on the lower level near the cafe, lounge, and ballroom, Deb decided to freshen up. Her food probably wasn’t ready yet.

Inside, she found the lounge empty. She’d designed this space like a luxurious living room with a grouping of marine-blue chairs and blue-and-white striped sofas. Fresh tropical plants were thriving under dedicated grow lights.

She put her purse down, enjoying the respite she’d created here.

In keeping with the original design, she’d chosen new marble vanities and countertops, along with soft lighting that wasn’t too harsh but still bright enough.

In front of the large mirrors, a tray of complimentary items included hairspray, miniature sewing kits, and other personal care items. Women could touch up their makeup, make emergency clothing repairs, or nurse their babies in private.

She also suggested converting a neighboring supply closet during the renovation to add more women’s bathroom stalls. That had sparked an initial battle with Ryan.

This is a luxury resort for all guests , she argued.

Knox and Whitley supported her on the idea. And thankfully, when several women complained on social media about endless bathroom lines at a wedding reception, Ryan agreed.

Now, the marketing department touted these high-end features in their marketing for weddings and parties. To Ryan’s surprise, they’d won some bookings with their attention to detail for women. Magazines showcased the luxuriously decorated lounge and celebrated the extra facilities.

Deb knew small details often created a point of difference in the luxury hotel market.

Satisfied with how the lounge had turned out, she opened her purse and leaned toward the mirror, studying her reflection. Faint shadows appeared under her eyes. The stress of the grand opening preparations was wearing on her.

Deb dabbed on concealer and brushed her hair.

Just then, the door swung open behind her.

A woman entered, carrying herself with poise. Over her arm hung a canvas beach bag with a sun hat folded into it. Her brightly printed floral shift and turquoise jewelry looked well made.

The woman paused, smiling at Deb in surprise. “Hello, there.”

“Are you enjoying yourself today?” Deb asked, making pleasant conversation.

“It’s hard not to at the Majestic.” Large sunglasses obscured the woman’s face. She removed them as she approached the mirror.

She seemed vaguely familiar, but Deb saw many guests every day. She offered a polite nod.

“You’re Deb Whitaker, aren’t you?”

Deb turned, surprised. “Yes, I am.”

“I thought so.” The woman’s smile widened. “I saw the article about the Majestic in Coastal Design & Living . Your design work is quite impressive.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” A slight flush of pride filled her. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

The woman gave her an enigmatic smile. “Call me Kitty.”

Deb balked at the name. It couldn’t be , she thought. Yet, there was something about the woman that tugged at her memory. She’d met so many people here over the years.

Kitty leaned toward the mirror, brushing her thick silver hair into soft waves.

“Your hair is so lovely,” Deb said, continuing the polite conversation.

“It’s natural. I finally decided to embrace the inevitable.” Kitty’s eyes lingered on Deb with interest. “What I admire most is how you retained the original ambiance.”

Kitty’s engaging manner put Deb at ease. “Maintaining the character of a hotel so many people love was important. I wanted to honor the hotel’s history while bringing in modern comforts.”

“From what I’ve seen, you’ve succeeded admirably.” Kitty opened a compact and dabbed powder on her nose and cheeks. “What’s next after this?”

“This project has been all consuming, so I haven’t had a chance to line up my next engagement.” She didn’t count David’s clients.

After touching up her lipstick, Kitty dropped the golden tube into her purse. “The article mentioned you also work with high-end residences.”

“I’ve done a lot of work here on the island.”

Kitty raised an eyebrow. “I might have a project for you. Are you having lunch in the cafe today?”

When Deb hesitated, Kitty added, “You’re welcome to join us at our table. I’d love to hear more about your work.”

“That’s very kind, but I have work to do. I’m picking up a to-go order.”

“Of course, I understand.” Kitty tucked her compact away. “Is there a place in the hotel you might recommend for a glass of wine later today?”

“The Library Bar is exquisite,” Deb replied. “They have a wonderful selection, and the original mahogany bar is magnificent.” She was particularly proud of how that restoration turned out.

Kitty’s eyes brightened. “What a good idea. Why not join me at five today?”

Deb inclined her head, thinking about Duke. But this woman was the type she needed to meet for her business. Kitty seemed much more agreeable than the Hunts.

“I’ll see you then,” Deb replied, smiling.

Kitty beamed at her. “Wonderful. I look forward to it.”

Deb’s curiosity was piqued. As she headed toward the cafe to pick up her shrimp salad, Deb thought how meeting someone new who appreciated her work was just what she needed.

She lingered at the patio entry, taking care to avoid the man watching his sons on the beach from a table. Kelsey saw her and hurried to her with her order.

“I’ve already put it on your tab.”

“Did you add a tip?”

Kelsey made a face. “This one’s on me.”

Deb paused and whispered, “How’s the boys’ father?”

“That’s not my table, but I’ll let you know if I learn anything. I have my eye on that one.”

Deb hurried away without detection and made her way toward the spa. Beneath palm trees was a quiet flower-filled patio where she could dine in peace and think through her project challenges. Occasionally, guests were there, but not today.

Relaxing to the peaceful sound of water trickling over smooth river rocks, she opened her lunch and began to eat.

Deb hated to avoid Mason and Teddy, but she didn’t trust herself around their father.

She was only halfway through her salad when a guest in a white terrycloth bathrobe wandered out in a blissful state.

“What a relaxing massage,” the woman said as she eased onto a lounger.

Deb put her salad away so the guest could relax. “The therapists are highly trained. Enjoy yourself.”

When she turned a corner, she saw the back of the boys’ father again, so she whipped around in another direction. With the way she felt about his behavior with the boys, she couldn’t risk running into him.

Whitley frowned on the staff imposing themselves on guests, and if she were ever alone with that man, she’d have a few choice words for him.