by Mysti Parker
Episode #10: Henry’s Queen
It’s 6:46 PM, just a few minutes until the official start of the Halloween party. I finish stretching fake spider webbing over the naked David statue in the lobby. Mrs. Roche has draped another loincloth over his nether regions. At least it’s a black cloth napkin that fits the occasion. My Elizabethan era costume gown is scratchy. I wiggle in the stiff fabric to relieve the effects of cheap material, but I make a good-looking Jane Seymour, third wife to Henry VIII, if I do say so myself.
His highness, Henry the Donut Guy, hasn’t arrived yet. The original Henry VIII was a notorious womanizer. Hopefully my date isn’t getting too much into character. My cell phone buzzes from the velvet drawstring purse that hangs from my waist. I take it out and see a text from Henry:
Traffic. Sorry. I’ll be there soon as I can. This costume is really itchy. Is yours?
I laugh. Serves us both right for shopping at the Bargain Costumes shop.
The hotel is lively with orange and purple lights strung over the front desk and breakfast area. Tissue paper pumpkins decorate the tables, while skeletons with spooky smiles dangle from the ceiling tiles. Costumed guests mingle over spooky hors d’oeuvres. Henry and I made the donut hole eyeballs and marshmallow spiders with pretzel stick legs earlier that day. We ended up a hair’s breadth from the point of no return, until I grabbed a bag of marshmallows to ward him off. Where he learned to kiss like that, I have no idea, but I didn’t want to serve party snacks that had been witness to the things I wanted to do with Henry.
Susan Smythe is decked out in a classic witch’s costume, complete with pointy hat and broom. She walks over with a tray of snacks. “Isn’t it wonderful? The hotel has come back to life like Frankenstein!”
She giggles with girlish glee and offers me a chocolate cupcake with a plastic bat ring stuck in the icing.
I nod and lick the sugary goo off my bat ring. “Where did Richard get his costume?”
“E-bay. Got a great deal on it.” She looks at him with utter devotion.
Richard’s wearing a tight mummy costume that looks more like thermal underwear with stripes. I didn’t realize he had man-boobs until now. It’s a sight I’d rather not remember. He’s talking with some Japanese tourists who are dressed like anime characters. Mrs. Gonsalves is filling up the punchbowl behind him. She’s traded her housekeeper uniform for a clown costume. No makeup, but she’s got the rainbow wig and big red nose. Her lips are moving in a silent conversation with herself. Either she’s talking to her ghost or truly crazy, but she makes good punch, so I don’t care.
The Muzak is malfunctioning perfectly, switching from the Jaws theme to Thriller just as Henry walks in. He has to squeeze through the door with his padded Henry VIII belly. His crinkly-eyed smile sends shivers down my spine, sending me visions of what might be under all that polyester.
“Hey, Jane.” He kisses my cheek. “You look awesome.”
“So do you.” I adjust his hat, which is adorned with a droopy white feather and plastic beads on the brim. “Now the king is ready to meet his court.”
He pulls me close and whispers, “I’ve got all the court I need right here. Why do you like Tudor history so much, anyway?”
“I think it’s because they had everything money could buy, but their personal lives were one big mess. Like mine.”
“Do you still think your life’s a mess?”
“Not so much, now that King Henry is here.”
Before he can steal another kiss, I stuff the last bite of my cupcake in his mouth. He grins at me with chocolate-covered teeth.
Jerry the maintenance man walks by with Carol, dressed as a gypsy, on his arm. He’s wearing his blue coveralls, looking more Sasquatch than ever. I can’t see his cheeks under the beard, and his eyebrows look like they might come to life and crawl away. Carol smiles and winks at me. I thought she hated him. Who knew?
“Nice costume,” Henry says.
“Not a costume,” Jerry mutters.
“Could have fooled me,” Henry whispers, and I laugh.
A shrill scream from the front entrance startles us both. We look over to see a hyperventilating Mrs. Roche leaning against the door frame. She scans the party scene with panicked eyes, as if the zombie apocalypse is upon us.
Richard rushes to her side and helps her to a table, where he sits her down gently. “Here now, have a seat. Susan, would you get her some punch, darling?”
“Of course!” Susan hands me the snack tray and heads for the punch bowl.
“I thought you were at your church social, Mrs. Roche,” Richard says, dabbing his forehead with his mummy sleeve. His polite demeanor is teetering on fed-up.
“What…is…all this?”
“A costume party.” Susan’s chipper as always and sets a plastic cup of punch in front of Mrs. Roche. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
“A party,” Mrs. Roche repeats. She picks up her drink and chugs it. “Mr. Roche is probably turning in his grave from all this noise.”
Richard’s shoulders slump. He looks at the little old party crasher like he wants to send her to meet her late husband. I bring the snack tray over and offer her a donut hole eyeball. She pokes it with an arthritic finger.
“Look, Mrs. Roche.” I gesture around the room. “See all these guests? They’re all staying here tonight. We’re completely booked!”
“We…are?”
“Yes, and it’s all because of Susan and Richard’s brilliant marketing.” I leave out the part about people wanting to meet our resident ghost. “They took a chance, and it paid off.”
Mrs. Roche’s face stretches into a wrinkled smile. “Richard…” She hands him her empty cup. “Get me more punch. I always did enjoy a good party.”
An hour later, full of junk food and tired from dancing to ten repeated renditions of Monster Mash, Henry whispers, “The king would like to be with his queen tonight. What say you, Jane?”
Oh dear God, he asked. My cell phone rings, interrupting the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. I hold up my finger in a “one sec” gesture and retrieve the phone from my velvet purse. Much as I loathe keeping Henry waiting, I never ignore a phone call, in case it’s about Mom.
My heart skids to a stop when I see the name on the caller ID: Nick Seymour. There was a time when I would have answered him within one ring, when I couldn’t wait to hear his voice. Not anymore. I let it ring until his call goes to voicemail.
“Everything OK?” Henry asks. “Who was that?”
I take a deep breath and plop the phone back into my purse. “It was nobody.”
“All righty then.” He leans close to my ear, his warm breath bringing goose pimples across my skin. “Wouldest thou depart with me, my queen?”
I don’t hesitate this time. “Yes, my lord. Let us not tarry.”
He kisses me, takes my hand, and we waste no time making our escape to his castle.
**END of Season One**
Pick up Season Two to find out what happens next!
Notes from the Author
Many of these first 10 episodes are based on some very real incidents that happened during my days as a front desk clerk in a little mid-priced hotel. Sure, a lot of stuff’s made up purely from my crazy imagination, but there were 5:00 AM donuts—delicious fresh from the bakery. Henry the Donut Guy—not real, but I wouldn’t have argued one bit if he had been! Among the many other true-to-life items that appear at the Roche Hotel are a popcorn machine, a Muzak that never played at the right volume, at least one “lady of the night”, and a dead body.
Other Books by this Author
The Tallenmere Fantasy Romance Series
A Ranger's Tale
Serenya's Song
Hearts in Exile
No Place Like Home
Historical
A Time for Everything
The Magic Massage Erotic Series
Sophie & the Cowboy
Sophie & the Socialite
Contemporary (with co-author MJ Post)
Chances Are
The Roche Hotel Romantic Comedy Series
The Roche Hotel: Season One
The Roche Hotel: Season Two
The Roche Hotel: Season Three
Connect with the Author
Email: [email protected]
Twitter: @MystiParker
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RomanceforEveryReader/
Website: https://www.mystiparker.com
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From historical to fantasy, from super sweet to scandalously spicy, Mysti Parker has Romance for Every Reader's Taste.
