Breakfast at the Beach House Hotel Read online

  One morning, I slipped on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, eager for some relaxing time on the beach. Pleasing everyone at the hotel, catering to their requests, was exhausting.

  I stepped out onto the sand and inhaled the salty air as the sun was rising. The sky held pink hues of early morning light, adding a rosy touch of brightness to the dancing water of the Gulf. I noticed Vaughn standing by the water’s edge in the distance, painting supplies in hand, and hurried to join him.

  He turned to me and smiled. “You’re up early!”

  I smiled. “I’m always up early. In this business, we have to get up before the guests. I saw you out here and decided to come say hello.”

  “I’m glad you did.” He held out his hand to me.

  I took it, liking the feel of his strong fingers curled around mine.

  “Stand here with me, just like this, and imagine we’re the only two people in the world.” He spoke softly. “Let the peace wrap around you. Isn’t it marvelous? Just the sound of the waves and the calls of the birds to let us know we’re not all alone in the universe.”

  I closed my eyes, feeling the promise of a warm day on my cheeks as I lifted my face up to the sky. Vaughn’s hand helped to steady me as I continued to keep my eyes closed so I could take in the sounds. When I opened my eyes, Vaughn’s steady gaze was on me.

  “I guess I got carried away,” I murmured, feeling heat creep up to my cheeks.

  He smiled and trailed a finger down the side of my face. “It was nice to watch you. You’re beautiful, you know.”

  Even as a rush of happiness filled me, warnings rang in my head. I removed my hand from his and stood before him, overwhelmed with confusing emotions. “Look, I’m not interested ...”

  “Oh! I’ve said something to make you uncomfortable. I was just commenting on how lovely you look, nothing more than that.”

  My cheeks now flamed with embarrassment. I wished a giant wave would rush on shore and carry me away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean, oh damn! I’m ...” I stumbled over words.

  Vaughn tilted my chin up, forcing me to look into his eyes. “I loved my wife deeply, Ann. The love we shared was very rare. I don’t expect ever to find that again. Not in this lifetime. And I don’t try. I’m happy and content just the way I am.”

  I froze. In the one program of The Sins of the Children I’d watched with Rhonda, Vaughn had said those same words about his fictional wife. Was he reciting them to me now for his own purpose? Or were the tears that had seemed so maudlin on the show tears of loss over his real wife? I stood there, not sure what was real and what wasn’t.

  I checked my watch. “Guess I’d better run. It’s getting late.”

  “I’m sorry, Ann.” He gave me a long look that confused me even more.

  I took off, uncertain what all of it had meant.

  For the next few days, I found myself on an emotional roller coaster. Now that I knew Vaughn had no real interest in pursuing a relationship with anyone else, I conversely found him more attractive than ever.

  I watched Vaughn act out a love scene with a tall, young redhead, purportedly one of his many women on the show. A pang of envy shot through me as I watched his sensuous, full lips come to rest on the actress’s welcoming smile. And when Vaughn wrapped his strong arms around the girl, I filled with a longing so sharp that I had to turn away. Disgusted with myself, I headed back to the office, tripping over my feet in my haste to get away.

  At my desk, I held my head in my hands, wondering what was wrong with me. It had been a while since I’d been with a man, but that, I told myself sternly, was no reason to act like a star-struck teenager.

  Vaughn continued to seek me out. Each time I met up with him, I felt drawn to him in a way I couldn’t explain, even to myself.

  Just as we’d settled into a comfortable routine with the soap opera people, the director informed Rhonda and me the show was likely to wrap early. At lunch, Vaughn confirmed it. He told me he, along with some others, had decided to stay a few extra days, filling their time slot.

  I was pleased to hear it. It was nice to have money coming in.

  As we finished our lunch together, Vaughn said, “My daughter Nell is coming down tomorrow to join me. Is that a problem?”

  “Not at all,” I answered, anxious to meet her. Just mentioning her name, his face had lit up.

  ###

  I stood by the front door, awaiting Nell Sanders’ arrival. Manny pulled into the front driveway, and I started down the front stairs to greet her. My breath caught when Nell stepped out of the van. She looked uncannily like Liz. Her lighter hair color, height, and fuller body altered the perception to a degree, but her blue eyes accented a strikingly similar facial bone structure.

  She approached me, and I introduced myself. “Your father is in the middle of filming right now. He asked me to show you around and get you settled.”

  “Lovely place,” Nell murmured, looking up at the façade of The Beach House Hotel. “I’m ready for a break from the antics of Washington. I have a good feeling Sabal is exactly what I need.”

  As we entered the reception area in the front hall, we heard the director announcing an end to the day’s shooting.

  Nell smiled. “What do you know? Wonders never cease.”

  Vaughn came bounding over to us. “Nell! I thought I heard your voice!” He pulled his daughter into a strong embrace. “Welcome to Sabal! I’m glad you’re here. Come up and see the views from the balcony. It’s gorgeous here! Hurry! Then we can go down to the beach!”

  He was too distracted by his daughter even to acknowledge my presence. Watching him all but carry his daughter up the stairs in his enthusiasm, I felt achingly alone.

  I went back to the kitchen. Rhonda was kneading dough for the next day’s sweet rolls. Feeling blue, I plunked myself down in a chair at the kitchen table. I was happy Rhonda and Will were seeing each other and certainly didn’t want to rush into anything, but sometimes I felt so, so ... single.

  “How’s Vaughn’s daughter?” Rhonda asked.

  “It’s the strangest thing. She and Liz look a lot alike. And you should see Vaughn with her. He really loves her.”

  Rhonda frowned at me. “What’s the matter? You seem a little down.”

  “It’s nothing. Lonely, I guess.”

  Rhonda gave me a little punch in the arm. “Hey! You’ve got Will and me, kiddo! And the girls will be here tomorrow.”

  “I know.” My eyes filled with gratitude. Without them, I didn’t know what I’d do.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  As the girls exited the plane, Rhonda and I glanced at one other with pride. They looked healthy, happy, and tanned from their summer camp experience.

  A sigh of contentment escaped me as I hugged Liz. It felt so good to have her with me.

  We gathered their belongings and headed to The Beach House Hotel. On the way, the car filled with their chatter—music to my ears.

  Filming had stopped for the day when we drove through the gates of the hotel. The putting green was hosting three people. Four other men were tossing horseshoes on the side lawn. The pleasant ping of tennis balls being hit could be heard from behind the hedge as we parked by the garage, next to Manny’s car.

  “Where are the stars of the show?” Angela asked, opening the car door. “Susannah Scoville is great! She’s not only pretty; she’s smart. I’ve always liked her.”

  Rhonda and I glanced at each other and burst out laughing.

  Angela frowned. “What’s so funny?”

  “You’ll see,” said Rhonda.

  “Hey! What’s that little boy doing?” Liz pointed to the front of the house.

  Garrett Gardner was crawling under a hibiscus bush, laughing wildly as his father chased him. Colorful blossoms fell to the ground as the boy pushed his way into the plantings, breaking branches as he went.

  “What a brat,” murmured Rhonda.

  Shrieks suddenly filled the air.

  “Ow! Ow! Ow!” Garrett scrambled out
from beneath the bushes, brushing wildly at his legs.

  I knew exactly what had happened and ran toward him. Taking hold of his arm, I swiped at his legs.

  “Stop! What are you doing to him?” Scowling, Garrett’s father stood aside, looking as if he was about to hit me.

  “It’s fire ants. And they hurt!” I swept the last of them away as Rhonda joined us.

  Garrett’s father lifted him in his arms and turned on me. “You expect your guests to put up with this kind of thing? What kind of place is this?”

  Rhonda’s expression changed from concern to one of growing fury.

  “Don’t...” I murmured and stood back as Rhonda faced Philip Gardner with narrowed eyes.

  “You listen to me!” she said. “That boy has no business crawling in the bushes! He’s ruined some of the landscaping. He had no business throwing all the towels in the pool, and he has no business annoying everyone around him. If you’d discipline him, he might not act that way. Don’t tell me how to run my hotel when you don’t even know how to control a four-year-old!”

  A hush fell among the onlookers who’d gathered around us.

  Susannah Scoville hurried over and stood beside her husband. She patted Garrett’s cheek. “There! There! It’s all right. That lady is just mean.”

  Silent for once, Garrett stared wide-eyed at Rhonda.

  Susannah glared at Rhonda. “You just don’t like kids. Honestly, I’ve never met so many people who absolutely hate kids.”

  I held my breath.

  Rhonda stared at her defiantly, hands on her ample hips. “I love kids, but I don’t like brats!”

  Susannah stamped her foot like a spoiled child herself and took Garrett in her arms. “Come, Philip. We’re leaving. I’m through with all my scenes except one, and that can be filmed in New York.”

  Garrett started to pound his mother on the chest. “Put me down! Put me down! I wanna stay!”

  “Stop that!” Susannah grabbed his hands. “We’re leaving whether you want to or not!”

  “That,” said Rhonda in round tones, “is the first sensible thing I’ve heard you say.”

  Susannah stomped up the stairs into the hotel, her husband at her heels.

  I drew a breath and waited for a reaction from our guests. At the sound of nervous tittering behind me, I turned to find Liz and Angela staring at Rhonda, their mouths open.

  One of the cameramen who’d been watching the whole scene from the putting green started to clap. “Way to go, Rhonda Baby!”

  The other onlookers joined in, and soon the sound of applause filled the front yard.

  A grim expression on his face, Roger Sloan, the producer of the show, made his way through the crowd that had gathered around us.

  I braced myself for bad news.

  “Look, I’m sorry I was rude to one of your stars,” Rhonda said contritely. “We’ve appreciated your business. I shouldn’t have blown my cool like that.”

  “You shouldn’t have had to.” Roger placed a hand on Rhonda’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Susannah’s right. She doesn’t have to stay. Most of the rest of us, however, intend to remain a couple of the extra days we booked. We want to enjoy a relaxing break before heading back north. In fact, my wife is flying down here tonight.”

  A look of relief smoothed Rhonda’s face.

  “We’ll arrange for a limo to pick her up, if you’d like,” I said, anxious to smooth things over. “And as long as you and so many others are staying, we’d like you to be our guests at a special picnic supper tomorrow, to celebrate your success in filming here at The Beach House Hotel.”

  Rhonda’s eyebrows rose until they were hidden by the blond curls cascading over her forehead. I prayed she’d play along with me.

  “Excellent,” said the producer. “You’re on!”

  Liz and Angela followed us into the hotel and went off to Angela’s room. Alone in the office, Rhonda faced me. “So what’s this about a picnic? Where’d that come from?”

  “I didn’t want their final image of the hotel to be of an unhappy guest storming out of here. A nice picnic under the stars should make a better lasting impression on them, don’t you think?”

  “Oh, yeah. Great idea!” Rhonda gave me a broad smile. “You’re good for me, Annie. I need your nice, proper manners to balance my temper.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “We need each other, and you know it!”

  “Ya know, Annie, as long as we’re doing this picnic thing, we should invite the people on the neighborhood board, to thank them for their support.”

  “I think so too.” It was a good political move. And if I remembered what Dorothy had told me, Brock would be away on another of his business trips.

  ###

  A breeze off the water helped cool the air as the party got underway. I surveyed the scene. We’d played up the tropical theme with flowers everywhere. Glowing lanterns placed strategically shone like fallen stars. Tables covered with crisp, sea-green tablecloths held dishes and platters of assorted food items, garnished with fresh fruit and colorful flowers, adding to the theme. A keg of imported beer sat in one corner of the lanai, where Will stood chatting with some of the crew members. A number of our other guests gathered by the small bar set up at the other end of the pool deck.

  Dorothy Stern came bustling over to me. “This party is wonderful! Let’s hope Mr. President of the Gold Coast Neighborhood Association doesn’t join us. I think he’s back home.”

  I turned anxious eyes to the doorway.

  Dorothy tugged on my arm for attention. “There’s Vaughn.” She fanned the air with her hand. “He’s so handsome I swear, even at my age, he takes my breath away. And he’s the nicest young man!”

  I smiled at the pretty blush that colored her cheeks. “Have you met his daughter? She’s talking to Angela. She’s nice, too.”

  Dorothy hurried away, and I was relieved to stop talking to her about Vaughn. Like it or not, I’d become attracted to him. The thought of his leaving the hotel made me sad.

  “Nice party,” said a voice behind me, and I turned to face Vaughn’s tall figure.

  “Thanks.” I smelled his distinctive aftershave lotion and inhaled it, storing the aroma of it in my memory for the lonely time ahead.

  “I heard about Rhonda’s shouting match with Susannah yesterday,” he said. “Good for her. She did what the rest of us have wanted to do all along.”

  Liz came rushing over to me, interrupting us. “Mom! I’ve been talking to Nell Sanders. She’s invited Angela and me to visit her in Washington so we can see what a lobbyist does. Isn’t that cool?”

  “Yes.” I gave her a quick hug. I’d never been able to keep up with Liz’s ever-changing plans. “Have you officially met Nell’s father?”

  Liz shook her head and held out her hand, looking up at Vaughn with uninhibited delight.

  Smiling, Vaughn took hold of Liz’s hand. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know your mother.”

  “Cool,” said Liz, giving us both long looks before she was called away.

  Vaughn’s gaze bore into me. “You must have been surprised when you met Nell.”

  “You mean at how much Liz and Nell look alike?” I nodded. “Yes, I was. I must admit it has made me very curious.”

  “Nell takes after my wife. Some say she has my personality. I don’t know about that, but she definitely has the look of her mother.” The pride on his face was telling, and I realized he still loved his wife.

  At the sound of a commotion, I looked up to see Brock Goodwin standing by the door taking in the scene. My heart fell. We’d sent him an invitation for political reasons and only because we thought he’d be out of town.

  His eyes met mine. He waved and came right over to me, making it impossible for me to avoid him. Though I’d grown to detest the man, I stood my ground, resolved to be as pleasant as possible.

  Ignoring Vaughn, Brock said, “I see you and Rhonda have outdone yourselves catering to the stars. I saw your email earlier a
nd wasn’t going to come, but the mayor called and asked me to represent him. How could I refuse?”

  I gritted my teeth and reminded myself of my duties as hostess. “Vaughn, this is Rhonda’s neighbor—Brock Goodwin. Brock, Vaughn Sanders.”

  Brock cocked an eyebrow and leaned toward me. “My dear, I’m your neighbor too.”

  For a horrifying moment, I thought Brock was going to kiss me. I quickly stepped back.

  Vaughn glanced from Brock to me with interest.

  Unwilling to spend another moment with Brock, I left the two of them sizing up each other.

  “Some picnic!” The producer, Roger Sloan, approached me with a smile, compelling me to take my focus off Vaughn and Brock. A tall, svelte blond hovered at Roger’s side.

  “I was telling my wife, Darlene, that this would be a wonderful spot for us to visit for long weekends in the winter. I don’t have time for extended vacations—four-day weekend trips are better for me. Darlene told me the flight down here was a breeze.”

  My spirits lifted. “Call us anytime. We’ll be sure to squeeze you in.”

  “You have a wonderful place,” Darlene said, glancing around. “I’m in the fashion business, and I know several people who’d love to come here. The only thing is they’d want to be assured of privacy because they’re well-known—names anyone would recognize.”

  My pulse quickened. Offering a small, private location was one of the things that Rick Jamieson, our hospitality consultant, had said made us unique.

  “I’m sure that privacy wouldn’t be a problem. It’s worked out pretty well these past weeks, don’t you think, Roger?”

  He nodded. “Very much so. I think what Darlene is trying to say is that the other guests, not just the staff, would have to be asked to respect the privacy of those around them.”

  “I see. No problem.” But I wasn’t exactly sure how that would work.

  Brock approached. Before I could hurry away from him, he caught up with me, placed a hand on my shoulder, and pulled me to a stop. “So, Ann, what do you have going on with Vaughn? He warned me not to cause any trouble at this party. What’s up with him?”