Margaritas at the Beach House Hotel

by Judith Keim

  He left as Rhonda and Amelia arrived. After her guard checked the area and left, we arranged chairs and then took seats around the table.

  Rhonda handed out the drinks and lifted hers in a toast. “Here’s to life!”

  “Yes,” said Amelia smiling and looking better than when she’d arrived the night of the shooting.

  We clinked glasses and let out a chorus of appreciative sighs. The ability to relax out of sight was precious.

  Amelia spent some time looking out over the property. It was one of those days that people in Maine might call a “high sparkler” with clear, blue skies and bright sunshine that cast a lemony glow making it seem as if the earth was relaxing too.

  “You have such a lovely place,” Amelia murmured. “I hope the weather holds for the wedding. Debra and Whit deserve the best.”

  “Whit was terribly worried you’d be mad about their leaving Lindsay with us for a few minutes to meet the minister who is to marry them.”

  “Lindsay spoke to me and told me they were not to be blamed in any way,” said Amelia. “No one had any reason to suspect Thomas would appear. How he managed to get on the plane without being flagged is beyond me.”

  “Lindsay didn’t even want Ann and me to stay with her,” said Rhonda.

  “Well, it’s a good thing you did.” Amelia reached into her pocketbook and brought out two envelopes. “The president sent these to me for you.”

  “The president is writing to us?” Rhonda said, grinning. “Hot damn! Who’d a thunk it?”

  Amelia laughed. “In my opinion, you need more than a letter, but he’s trying to keep everything private.”

  “I’m going to save mine to read when Vaughn gets home later tonight,” I said.

  “I’m going to open mine now,” said Rhonda. She ripped open the envelope and brought out a sheet of thick, creamy paper.

  “Go ahead and read it,” I said. “I’m sure mine says the same thing, but I want Vaughn to have the pleasure of opening it.”

  “Okay,” said Rhonda. “Here goes:

  Dear Ms. Grayson,

  It is with the sincerest of gratitude that I write to thank you for the role you played in keeping my beloved sister-in-law, Lindsay, safe from her very ill husband. My family and I will be forever grateful to you for protecting her.

  If you ever come to Washington, D. C., I would like to welcome you to the White House to give you my personal regards.

  Sincerely,

  Edward Thaxton

  President of the United States

  Rhonda grinned. “Short but sweet. Wait til Will sees this. He’s going to be so proud. ’Course he didn’t vote for him, but who cares? My parents would never believe all that’s happened to me. Too bad they’re not here to see it.”

  “I bet they wouldn’t be that surprised,” said Amelia. “I understand you come from a good, hard-working family.”

  “How’d you know?”

  Amelia placed a hand on Rhonda’s arm. “I know more about you than you could guess. Tell me, how did it feel to win the lottery?”

  Rhonda laughed. “After I stopped hyperventilating? Sal said for me to go ahead and buy a ticket, that he wanted nothing to do with it. But I knew I’d win. Not sure how, but I had a feeling I would. Served him right when I put the money in my name. As it turned out, it’s what made it possible for me to do this hotel with Ann. I had the money, but she had the business experience.”

  Amelia raised her glass. “Here’s to the two of you! You’ve made it a success.”

  “We worked hard to make it happen,” I reminded her.

  She laughed. “That, too. I’d like to put the two of you on my board of directors for the non-profit organization I started for women recovering from spousal abuse. Think about it, and let me know.”

  “I’d love it,” I said, “but I don’t think it should be for just spousal abuse. Abuse in the workplace too.”

  “I agree,” said Amelia. “That’s next on the list. We women have to stick together. Men are being abused too, but for the moment, we’re dealing with women.”

  “Count me in,” said Rhonda.

  “Thank you. Shall we toast that too?” Amelia lifted her glass, and we raised ours.

  As I did, I thought about the guests who come and go in a hotel and how interesting it was that it could bring people together.

  ###

  That night I lay in bed waiting for Vaughn to arrive. He’d caught a late flight so he could be present for the wedding celebration. I was wearing the blue nightgown he loved to see me out of, and I’d placed the letter from the President on his pillow.

  Sometime later, I felt someone shaking my shoulder and let out a scream.

  “Hey, Ann, it’s me,” came a voice I knew.

  I opened my eyes and blinked my bad dream away. A dream where Thomas shot me and forced me to watch Rhonda die.

  Vaughn sat on the edge of the bed and pulled me into his arms. “What was that all about?” he asked softly. “The shooting?”

  I pressed closer to him. “It’s been a difficult time. I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me, too. I hate the thought of anything bad ever happening to you.” He kissed me on the cheek, and when I relaxed, his lips met mine.

  My eyes stung with gratefulness. He made me feel safe and loved.

  After we broke apart, I lay in bed and watched while he undressed and got ready for bed. As he went to climb into bed, he noticed the envelope sitting on his pillow.

  “What’s this?”

  “Go ahead and open it. I know what it says.”

  Vaughn picked up the envelope. “Pretty impressive when you get a letter from the president of the United States.” He read it and set it on the nightstand. “I’m proud of what you and Rhonda did to help Lindsay, but it could’ve ended badly. Too bad politics sometimes comes before common sense. Thomas is someone who needed a lot more help than being hidden in Vermont. I thought dealing with mental health issues was one of the president’s interests.”

  “Not if it meant exposing his own family,” I said. “I knew when I first met Thomas that his problems were severe.”

  Vaughn climbed into bed and drew me up against him, easily fitting me to his form. “The world is a crazy place. Let’s enjoy the next few days. We all could use a happy occasion.”

  With my thoughts centered on a wedding and Vaughn’s arms around me, I fell into a deep sleep.

  ###

  Rosy fingers of dawn were spreading in the sky when I heard Robbie’s cry, “Daddy’s home!”

  Giggling happily, he and Trudy crawled into bed with us. Pulling him close, Vaughn looked at me. “Looks like we’re a family again.”

  I filled with happiness. This was a good way to try to forget the past few days and start the celebration.

  ###

  Rhonda and I drove together to Flowers, a boutique restaurant downtown known for ladies luncheons and afternoon teas. Amelia was hosting a luncheon for Debra with only Lindsay, Rhonda, and me as guests. Coming from a broken background, Debra had wanted to keep the wedding low-key, and we all respected that. Whit’s brother had flown in for the ceremony, but no one else had been invited. Tonight, the reception would take place in the small dining room we used for VIP guests. The ceremony would be in a private area on the beach in front of the hotel. The nearby sunset-viewing platform and bar would be temporarily closed for the event. The Secret Service agents assigned to Amelia had agreed that would be best.

  When I stepped inside the restaurant, I paused, taking it all in. In a word, the décor was adorable, definitely catering to women. The walls were painted a pale pink. Pink linen tablecloths covered tables, china with delicate floral designs matched the flowers sitting in vases atop the tables, and teacups sat at every place.

  Amelia and Lindsay were already seated at a table with Debra. Not too far away sat two male customers who I realized were Secret Service agents protecting Amelia.

  Smiling, Amelia got to her feet. “Here come the warrio
rs.”

  Rhonda and I looked at one another and laughed. She’d been going through some post-trauma episodes the same as I’d experienced.

  The luncheon was a quiet, sweet affair. Amelia had ordered tea sandwiches, salads, and plenty of wine. As we talked, I discovered that Debra had been a softball star in high school and joined the Marines after graduation. She’d met Whit when they served in the CIA for a brief time, and as Debra said, they had a hot time together, separating when Debra left to go into the security business with a friend.

  “It wasn’t until we were working together again that we both knew it was a mistake ever to have broken up,” said Debra, her cheeks blushing prettily.

  “I knew the two of you were right for each other the first time I saw you together,” said Lindsay, lifting her wine glass in a toast. “Here’s to the two of you.”

  We all raised our glasses.

  Amelia turned to Rhonda and me. “I’ve heard bits and pieces about how the two of you met each other and your husbands. It seems like a lot of serendipity.”

  “I would never have met Vaughn if the producers hadn’t decided to film his soap opera at the hotel.”

  “We needed them to come to the hotel because we were struggling to get the hotel going,” said Rhonda.

  “I love stories like that,” said Lindsay. “Jean-Luc says the two of you are wonderful not only as people to work for but as friends.”

  “Speaking of that,” said Rhonda. “What’s going on with the two of you? I see how you look at each other.”

  ‘He’s been wonderful to me,” said Lindsay, “but it’ll be some time before I’m ready to be more than friends.”

  I glanced at Rhonda and Amelia, and we silently agreed that though Lindsay wasn’t ready to tell us about it, she and Jean-Luc were already past that initial stage.

  After lunch, Amelia said, “Thank you, Ann and Rhonda, for coming. Now, we’re going to take Debra to see Malinda at Hair Designs.”

  “I’m going to surprise Whit,” said Debra grinning. While Debra wasn’t beautiful, she was lovely in a healthy, girl-next-door way.

  “Have fun,” I said, hugging her goodbye. “Vaughn and I’ll see you on the beach at five-thirty.”

  “Enjoy all that pampering,” said Rhonda, wrapping her arms around Debra.

  We left the restaurant and climbed into Rhonda’s red Cadillac convertible, the car she loved to drive.

  As she dropped me off at my house, she turned to me. “How are you doing with everything? I’ve been having some nightmares.”

  “Me, too,” I said. Gazing at my best friend, I was so happy things had turned out as well as they had. Whit would always be a hero in my mind. I couldn’t wait to help him and Debra celebrate their wedding.

  Rhonda gave my hand a squeeze. “See ya later, hon. Glad we have this happy occasion today.”

  “Strange how things work out,” I said, thinking back to the day I stepped off the plane and into a life I’d never suspected.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  At exactly 5:30 P.M., Vaughn and I joined the others on the beach, waiting for Debra to arrive with Whit. They’d chosen to forego tradition and come toward us together.

  They appeared, and as they moved toward us, my eyes remained glued on Debra. She was wearing a white silk dress with cap sleeves, a V-neckline, and a skirt that flowed from the waistline into long, soft folds to her ankles. Her dark hair was cut and styled in a way that brought out the lovely lines of her cheekbones and made her light-brown eyes look bigger. I let out a sigh of happiness. She simply glowed.

  My gaze turned to Whit. Taller than Debra by a few inches, his muscular body made Debra appear fragile beside him. Though I knew Debra’s strength, the effect of seeing them like this was touching.

  The minister stood beside a small, round, sturdy white table whose legs had been dug into the sand. On top of the table was a vase of white orchids.

  Lindsay and Whit’s brother, Jim, stood on either side of the minister.

  Debra and Whit walked up to the minister and turned to us, their faces filled with broad smiles that captured the moment. Behind them, the sun, hours away from setting, washed the background with a softening light. Blue waves rolled onto the shore and pulled away in a steady rhythm. Seagulls swirled in the sky above, their cries providing music that seemed right.

  I listened as Debra and Whit recited vows to one another and couldn’t help glancing at Vaughn. He winked at me, and I knew he, too, was remembering our own wedding.

  When at last the minister announced, “You may now kiss your bride,” we watched with amusement as Whit picked up his bride and twirled her around in his arms as he kissed her. When he lost his balance and almost stumbled, we all reached out to catch them.

  He regained his footing and turned to us. “She drives me crazy, you know?”

  And that, I thought, were among the sweetest words said that day.

  ###

  At the hotel in the small dining room, the reception Lindsay was hosting was underway quickly. While we waited for dinner, appetizers and drinks were served.

  Everything was as lovely as I’d hoped. More important than the setting was the gathering of family and friends for such a happy event.

  I gazed around.

  Vaughn was talking easily with Amelia. Jean-Luc and Lindsay were standing apart looking like the love-struck people they were. Will was talking to Debra, who glowed with happiness, and Rhonda, Whit, and Jim were laughing over something that had been said.

  A waiter approached, carrying a tray of margaritas. He offered me one, and I took it.

  Margaritas at The Beach House Hotel were occasions for celebrating many things, but most of all, the success of the hard work Rhonda and I had done to change her seaside estate into the well-respected, upscale hotel it was today. Two women who beat the odds.

  From across the room, Rhonda caught my eye and lifted her glass in a salute to me.

  Smiling, I held mine aloft to her, certain that though we had challenges ahead of us with guests constantly arriving and departing, we’d meet them together.

  Thank you for reading Margaritas at The Beach House Hotel. If you enjoyed this book, please help other readers discover it by leaving a review on your favorite site. It’s such a nice thing to do.

  We’re happy to announce you can preorder this book now! Here’s the link where you can find The Desert Flowers – Lily available for preorder:

  https://apple.co/3etjcnN

  And for your further enjoyment, here are links for the other books in The Beach House Hotel Series:

  Breakfast at The Beach House Hotel http://apple.co/2okIQAq

  Lunch at The Beach House Hotel https://apple.co/2yCDCoh

  Dinner at The Beach House Hotel https://apple.co/2yFyiAl

  Christmas at The Beach House Hotel http://apple.co/2wBfJd3

  Dessert at The Beach House Hotel is in production and will be available in 2022.

  Happy Reading to All!

  Enjoy an excerpt from my book, The Desert Flowers – Lily, the Desert Sage Inn Series – Book 2, which will be released in Fall 2021.

  CHAPTER ONE

  LILY

  In the early morning light on this March day in Palm Desert, California, Lily Weaver jogged in nice, easy steps on the path beside the Desert Sage Inn golf course. Her life, which had seemed so settled, had recently gone through a dramatic shift. Alec Thurston, her former employer and lover, was dying and had asked her to leave her job in New York and come to his home in California to help with the sale of the inn and its transition to the buyers, The Blaise Hotel Group. Here, she’d formed friendships with Rose Macklin and Willow Sanchez, two other women he’d asked to help him as well. Alec called them The Desert Flowers. They had separate jobs to help Alec, a man they each dearly loved.

  Rose was working with a consultant for the Blaise Group to ensure that all social media and other PR going forward did nothing to destroy the panache of the upscale inn Alec had worked so hard to create
.

  Willow was working opposite the two young men in the hotel company’s ownership family who were vying for the position of managing the inn after the sale went through.

  She herself, as someone who had once been Alec’s assistant, was on hand to take careful notes of meetings and to oversee and control the paperwork involved while the hotel company did property inspections, market research, and other due diligence activities. She worked alongside Brian Walden, another consultant hired by the Blaise Group to head their transition team.

  As she followed the path by the golf course, she admired both the greens and the desert landscape. Some thought the bland colors of the desert were boring. She loved seeing sandy, rocky areas accented by green cacti and a variety of desert flowers. It made each color seem special. Hummingbirds were in abundance, their tiny bodies airborne by the constant fluttering of their wings, allowing them to hover about the bright flowers among the growth. In the distance, snow-capped mountains glistened in the sun, adding color to the purple-gray hue of their textured surfaces.

  Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned to see Brian approaching. They sometimes met in the morning as they were jogging. At one time she’d entertained hopes of his being more than a co-worker. On their one so-called date, they’d ended up meeting a whole group working at the Desert Sage Inn, and he’d made it clear that this gathering was all business. Since then, she’d kept her distance. But despite telling herself not to dream foolishly, those secret hopes still lingered.

  As he moved toward her, she observed his thick brown hair, handsome, athletic body and the ease at which he handled his prosthetic lower left leg. Brian was the sort of man she hoped to marry someday —kind, thoughtful, and smart.

  “Morning!” Brian said, coming to a stop beside her. “How’s it going? I haven’t seen you in a while. Keeping busy with Alec?”

  “Actually, I’ve been waiting for you to call a meeting. As lovely as it is to be here, I like to feel as if I’m doing my job.”