Page 27 of Hibiscus Heights (Crown Island #4)

T onight will be spectacular , Deb thought with satisfaction. Yet, even with her experience, her nerves still fluttered with excitement.

She stood by the front door of the Majestic Hotel with Maileah, surveying the pre-event scene. They both wore clothes they could move in but still looked professional. Soon, they would need to change for the event.

A red carpet stretched beneath the Majestic Hotel’s porte-cochère , where photographers were planning their angles. Flowering trees and opulent floral arrangements delivered earlier lined the area.

“Do we have photos of this entry yet?” she asked. They needed to commemorate every detail.

“The photographer has been working in the ballroom,” Maileah replied. “This area is next on her list.”

Everyone on Ryan’s team and the staff had pitched in to ensure the event’s success. The adrenaline level was running high, with everyone on guard against any disaster that might strike.

Ryan had engaged a local meteorologist to monitor the weather after strong monsoon gusts and rain had disrupted a VIP event the previous year.

Knox ensured the backup generators were standing by, while Chef Gianna added extra staff and triple-checked every appliance in the kitchen.

Whitley spent the last week preparing staff members to cater to VIP guests. Tonight, everyone was a VIP.

Deb also found another local artist whose artwork she acquired as a replacement. Every contingency plan had worked out.

Next to Deb, a smartly attired bell captain polished a bronze plaque that gleamed in the late afternoon sunshine. The Majestic Hotel, 1889.

Deb turned to him. “Everything looks spotless, Ethan. Thanks for helping us rearrange the hibiscus trees.” The red and white flowers complemented the hotel’s exterior color scheme.

The bell captain puffed out his chest with pride.

“We know how important first impressions are. Few people outside of the hotel know this, but some of the first things Mr. Ryan did when he gained control of the hotel were to supply new uniforms for us here at the front and fill this entryway with flowering plants.”

“This hotel means a lot to him.” Deb hadn’t heard that particular story, but there were many others.

Ryan’s former business partner had invested little into the hotel while withdrawing as much cash as he could get away with. Though Ryan had worked in the upper echelons of finance and investments, he was a humble man at heart. For him, the hotel wasn’t just an investment; it was personal.

Standing beside her, Maileah tapped a pencil on her clipboard, which held a checklist. “Is there anything else you can think of?”

“This area looks ready now,” Deb replied. “Your marketing and event team has done an amazing job. Let’s do a final check of the ballroom before we change for the party.”

“We’ll have to hurry,” Maileah said, tapping her pencil again.

Deb touched her hand, quieting Maileah’s nervous action. “We have plenty of time. The makeup artist and hair stylist haven’t arrived yet.”

“Which room will we be in?”

Deb hesitated. “We’ll meet in room 418 in about an hour.”

Maileah looked at her in disbelief. “You took that room?”

“The hotel is sold out. We needed a place to change, and that room was the only one still available. Everything we brought will be waiting for us there.”

“Isn’t that the one Knox’s crew had trouble with?” Maileah lowered her voice to a whisper. “The one that’s haunted?”

Deb darted a glance around to see if they’d been overheard. “People like to imagine things. We’ll be fine. We’re together.”

Since they all planned to work today in preparation, Deb suggested that Maileah, Junie, and April bring their evening wear for the party to the hotel.

She engaged her hairdresser and a local makeup artist to pamper them.

Tonight, there would be photography, and Deb wanted her colleagues to look their best.

Whitley had given her the only room available. The men would use the spacious lounge in the executive offices, but that room was adjacent to Ryan’s office and adjoined the men’s restrooms.

In contrast, the old secretarial facilities designed for women were cramped and dimly lit.

They still were. The executive offices were last on the list for renovation due to funds required elsewhere.

Deb and Maileah walked through the hotel, conducting a final inspection of the corridors, terraces, patios, and other common areas. Artwork and photography chronicled the hotel’s history, adding warmth and personality.

The photographs made Deb think of Grant, though she tried not to think about how right his arms around her felt.

He would be here tonight with his family. Deb wasn’t sure which way tonight would go. For that matter, did she need to torture herself just to be friends with Grant? If it weren’t for the boys, she would cut off this lunacy.

At the cafe, Deb spoke to Kelsey, who would be serving this evening, and in the Library Bar, she said hello to the bartender, Maxine. Everyone was in high spirits, anticipating the evening ahead.

At the entry to the ballroom, Deb paused.

The overall effect was one of relaxed beachside elegance.

The focus was on quality and natural beauty with an abundance of fresh flowers, driftwood, and other treasures of the sea.

The food and service would be impeccable.

This was the new Majestic Hotel, a resort where anyone could relax and recharge.

Deb loved the look. “What an impressive job you’ve done.”

“You gave me the vision,” Maileah replied.

“And you pulled it off.”

“I just know what people like.” Maileah raised a shoulder. “I wasn’t trained for this. I studied marketing.”

Deb made a face. “Don’t minimize your talents. Your instinct for making an impact is genius. Everything is marketing. Now, let’s test the lighting.”

The lighting crew adjusted the lights for them, subtly illuminating focal points inside and on the adjoining veranda and terraces.

“I love that,” Deb said, envisioning the effect. She approved the lighting and scheduling.

Maileah crossed off this item on her clipboard list. “Looks like we’re ready.”

“I’ll second that,” Whitley said, joining them.

Maileah looked up from her list. “Next is the pre-event cocktail party with the media. We’re meeting in the Sunset Room.”

“Are our special guests confirmed?” he asked.

“Sailor is coming with three other champion surfers. We have several sports players from San Diego and Los Angeles teams, and a few actors from Hollywood.” She rattled off the high-profile names.

“The press and social media influencers will have plenty of opportunities to chat with them and take photos on the property.”

Whitley looked impressed. “You’ve delivered all you said you would and more.”

Deb was proud of how Maileah had stepped up for this job. She moved onto the terrace, where tables dressed in crisp linens awaited guests. Local flowers—bird of paradise, red anthurium, and pink ginger—bloomed with simple elegance against the blue of the sea beyond.

The silent auction section showcased local island-inspired art alongside vintage surfboards that had been expedited and arrived just in time.

“Excuse me,” Whitley said, stepping out to join her. “I just received word that your style team has arrived. They are setting up in the room now. The housekeeping staff also left your steamed eveningwear there. It’s nearly showtime. For all of us.”

Room 418 sat at the end of the hall, its brass numbers gleaming despite the corridor’s dim lighting. Deb turned the key and stepped inside to find the hair stylist and makeup artist setting up their stations. Deb had asked that the room be rearranged to accommodate them.

A fruit platter, bottles of sparkling water, and two silver pots of coffee also awaited them. Tonight would be a long night, so they needed to pace themselves.

Carmela, the best stylist on the island, had worked in New York and Paris before opting for a simpler life on Crown Island. Her friend Desiree still worked on Hollywood sets during filming. Both women wore chic black knitwear.

Deb greeted them warmly. “Thanks for accommodating our unusual venue.”

Carmela looked up from arranging her tools. “No problem at all. Though I have to say, it’s freezing in here. We turned off the air conditioner and tried to open a window but couldn’t budge it.”

“It’s still chilly,” Desiree added, rubbing her hands together before opening her makeup case.

Deb checked the thermostat. According to the temperature set, it shouldn’t be anywhere near this cold. Her pulse quickened with suspicion, though she wouldn’t let on for fear of losing Carmela and Desiree. Many people were uncomfortable around the resident spirits.

Princess Noelle, Deb suspected. She’d checked in nearly a hundred years ago.

“Faulty air conditioning, most likely. I’ll have the maintenance staff check it out.”

Strange occurrences had transpired here over the years. Did the past somehow seep into today? Did different timelines coexist and occasionally overlap? Deb didn’t know how that might work, but she knew enough to have concerns.

“Cold might be okay,” Deb replied, knowing there wasn’t much they could do. “We’ll all be on edge tonight, so this temperature will keep us sharp. But I can have the staff bring up heaters and more robes for us. I’ll check that window, too.”

“Good luck,” Carmella said, shaking her head.

Deb noticed the evening gowns lined up in the closet, along with their bags and accessories placed on a bank of shelves. Everything looked ready.

At the window, Deb braced herself to push up the window. To her surprise, it slid easily. Carmela and Desiree shook their heads. “Guess I have the magic touch.”

Maybe the princess was more used to her.

The door opened, and April stepped inside. “How fancy. I’m so glad you arranged this because the hotel salon is completely booked today.”

Junie and Maileah arrived moments later.

“Let’s get this party started,” Maileah said. She turned on some pop music, snapped her fingers, and swayed to the beat.

Deb joined her, glad to let off some stress, and soon they were all dancing, including Carmela and Desiree.

When the song ended, they all laughed.

“We needed that.” Deb handed out bottled water to everyone. “A chance to decompress before the main event.”

“That was a good way to warm up,” Carmela added.

Soon, the room buzzed with activity as they all freshened up and changed into plush Majestic robes. Each woman took turns for hair and makeup.

While Desiree was giving April a natural makeup style with an understated touch of glam, Maileah snapped behind-the-scenes photos, capturing the preparation ritual that would become part of the evening’s story, including one of Junie with her face slathered with a moisturizing mask.

Grinning, Maileah said, “These will be perfect for the hotel’s social media.”

Junie looked horrified. “Oh, my gosh, not without our approval. Girl, you know better.”

“And you know people love authenticity.” Maileah winked. “Just kidding.”

“You’re still a brat.”

“And you’re still too worried about what people think. Love you, though.”

Deb and April traded smiles as they listened to the sisters’ good-natured bickering.

Within a short time, their transformations began to take shape. Carmela created a soft French twist for Deb and a sleek, sophisticated updo for April. Maileah and Junie wore their hair loose and curled in the latest style.

As they worked, Deb noticed the room warmed to a normal temperature.

April’s ice blue evening gown flattered her figure beautifully. Junie opted for a hydrangea blue dress that brightened her complexion, while Maileah decided on a vibrant shade of sapphire that suited her personality.

The color wave was an accident, but the photos would be lovely.

At last, Deb slipped into the ivory evening dress she’d bought from Babe—simple yet elegant with clean lines that flattered her figure. She reached onto a shelf for her bag containing her shoes and accessories.

As she brought the bag down, a small box tumbled off with it.

She picked up a vintage jewelry case from the floor. “What’s this?”

A delicate, ecru-colored card peeked from the edge. She slid it out. It bore a familiar name in fancy script.

Miss Deborah Rose Whitaker.

Yet, the name mystified her.

She opened the faded red leather case and gasped in surprise.

Inside lay the most exquisite earrings she’d ever seen. The chandelier style was rendered in white gold or platinum, featuring diamonds, tiny pearls, and sapphires in the color of the sea, crafted with magnificent artistry and fit for royalty.

“Those are incredible,” April said, looking over her shoulder. “Where did they come from?”

Deb turned over the card, but it was blank. “I have no idea. Matteo or Grant? Or maybe my parents. Someone must have asked Whitley to put them in here with my bag.”

“They got your name wrong,” April said. “The middle name should be Lynn, not Rose.”

“I was named after my grandmother, whose middle name was Rose. She led a charmed life.”

April sucked in a breath. “This is too much of a coincidence. We are in room 418.”

“Shh.” Deb inclined her head toward Carmela and Desiree. “These must be from my father. Maybe they belonged to his mother, but I never saw her wear anything like this. I would have remembered.”

“Are you going to wear them tonight?”

“I suppose I should. They’re dazzling.”

“Wow,” Junie said, overhearing the last part of the conversation. “Those are from Grandpa? You have to wear them. They’re meant for tonight.”

When Deb held them to her earlobes in front of the mirror, the effect was striking. They framed her face and complemented her dress far better than the simple pearl studs she’d planned to wear.

Maileah snapped a photo as Deb held them up. “They’re perfect with that dress. Put them on.”

Deb fastened the jewels to her earlobes. “They’re so elegant. Truly of a different era.”

“You look stunning,” April said softly, leaning into the mirror beside her. “I feel like I’ve seen those before. But they’re magical on you.”

Deb put her arm around her dearest friend. “We all look gorgeous tonight.”

April and Maileah crowded in, and Deb gazed at their images, admiring their collective transformation. “Tonight is for all of us.”

Carmela captured the final group photos for them. As they gathered their satin and beaded bags and prepared to head downstairs, Deb felt a slight chill brush past her shoulder. Yet, it didn’t seem threatening.

Quite the opposite.

Deb shook her head, and the earrings tinkled against her neck. “Time for the Sunset Room. Let’s make an entrance, ladies.”

The light flickered on their way out.

Deb grinned at April. Perhaps Princess Noelle had enjoyed having them there after all.