“Cool.”
“Three more couples arrived shortly after that, and five singles and a couple streamed in over the past few hours. I suspect at least one of them is a reviewer. Sandra is showing them to their rooms.”
“Who’s Sandra?”
“Sandra Larsen. Didn’t you meet her? She’s my new assistant manager.”
“I guess I haven’t been around lately.”
“I’ll introduce you. She’s a cousin of Sean’s.”
“Then she must be okay,” I said, grinning. “So any more guests expected?”
“Yes, I’m expecting a family to arrive later tonight. And I had one dropout, which bummed me out a little. But then someone just called a few days ago and reserved the room for a week starting Monday afternoon. So that’s all fourteen rooms.”
I grabbed her hand and squeezed. “A full house. It’s all happening, Jane.”
“I know.” She giggled and let out a little squeal. “I’m an innkeeper for real!”
“You’re a hotelier,” I said, raising my glass to her.
“Yes, much classier.”
I gave her a quick hug. “I’m thrilled for you. Congratulations.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“That’s so true.” I laughed and shook my head. “No, I helped rebuild the walls and the floors and the facades, but you added your own special touch of beauty and grace and friendliness. That’s what your guests will take away and talk about for years to come.”
“Oh.” She pressed her fingers to her lips. “Don’t you dare make me cry again.”
“Ooh, I see a tear,” I said, peering at her. “I believe my work here is done.”
She smacked my arm. “Beast.”
“That’s me.” I grinned. “Hey, did Althea find you?”
“Althea’s here?” She glanced around. “Where is she?”
“She took herself off on a little tour of the place, but that was a while ago.”
“Oh, good. I’ll go track her down.”
At that moment, Jane’s assistant tapped her on the shoulder. “I hate to interrupt, but we’ve had a cancellation.”
“Oh no.” Jane gave me a quick glance before turning to follow Sandra through the door to the check-in desk tucked under the main stairway off the foyer. I tagged behind.
Jane looked at the phone message Sandra handed her. “Andrew Braxton. He was involved in a car accident.”
“His doctor called from the hospital,” Sandra added. “He’s had to cancel his entire trip.”
“Must’ve been a bad accident,” I said.
“I hope he’s okay.” Jane wrung her hands. “He’s the one who reserved the last room, and he even paid for the entire week in advance. I’ll have to issue a refund to his credit card. We should find out what hospital he’s in and maybe send flowers.”
“I can call around and take care of it,” Sandra said.
“Thank you, Sandra. You’re the best.”
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s get you a glass of wine.” I wound my arm through Jane’s and we walked back to the living room bar.
“And he was booked into my favorite room,” she said dejectedly.
“They’re all your favorite rooms,” I said.
“I know, but he was booked in Desdemona, the one with the pretty pale green walls and the little balcony that overlooks the Buddha Garden.”
“That’s a nice one,” I admitted, remembering vividly the work we’d done to refurbish that room with its peeling paint and rotted wooden walls, not to mention the crumbling balcony. Steel-reinforced beams had been extended out from beneath the floor to buttress the small terrace, and the softly curving iron rail and elaborate fretwork in the balusters had cost a small fortune to replicate. But it had been worth it, if Jane’s overwhelming delight was any gauge.
Jane had named each of her fourteen suites after Shakespeare’s heroines. She’d also named different areas of her garden after the various statuary she’d placed there. So there was the Buddha Garden with its statue of the laughing Buddha set at the base of a young redwood tree, surrounded by verdant ferns and pink cyclamen. A standing statue of Walt Whitman had his own miniforest of pines at the end of the garden walk. And a family of deer stood guard near the copse of bay laurels, earning it the whimsical name of Bambi Bay.
“I hate that the room’s going to be empty all week,” Jane said.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
She took a sip from the wineglass I handed her. “I just wanted to be able to say that I had a full house our first week in business.” She waved her problems aside. “Never mind. The important thing is to find out if he was badly injured. I hope not.”
“Did I hear you say you have an empty room this week?”
We both turned and saw Stephen Darby hovering nearby.
“Yes, I’ve had a cancellation,” Jane said. “My guest was involved in a car accident.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, touching her arm in a show of sympathy. “And I hate to gain from your guest’s loss, but I would love to take that room for as long as it’s available.”