The Hotel

Home > Other > The Hotel > Page 6
The Hotel Page 6

by Pamela Kelley


  “It was kind of fancy for me. I didn’t know what half of the things were. They did taste pretty good though,” his father said. David smiled at that. His father’s tastes were simple. One of his favorite meals was hot dogs and baked beans. His mother had more refined tastes and she’d told him before about that dinner. She’d loved it.

  “It’s good. There’s a lot to do there. It was a nice chance to come home, and see you guys, too.”

  “We don’t see you often enough,” his mother said sadly. “Will you always have to travel this much?”

  “David has a good job, and a life in New York City. There’s nothing on Nantucket for him,” his father said.

  His father was right. Professional opportunities were limited on Nantucket.

  “There’s family. His family is here,” his mother said.

  David could sense a mood change with his mother. They were becoming more frequent. She grew agitated unless they were able to redirect her. The doorbell rang and he breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Mom, the pizza’s here. I ordered your favorite—the one with eggplant, feta and spinach.”

  His mother’s eyes lit up. “You did? Oh, good. My girlfriends and I love that one the best. I haven’t had it in so long.” They’d had it delivered a few days ago, too.

  His father stood. “If you get the paper plates and napkins, David, I’ll get the pizza.”

  A few minutes later they were all happily eating in the living room. They laughed and chatted like everything was perfectly normal and his mother stayed clear-minded for the rest of the night. It gave David hope that they could manage this, that it might not be so bad.

  Chapter 7

  “Table nine wants their filet butterflied and well done. What does that mean?” Caitlin was one of their newer servers, a college student who had spent the last two years bussing tables and they were giving her a shot at serving. She’d been through extensive training, but butterflying was something they hadn’t covered.

  Nick groaned. “It should be outlawed. Doesn’t happen often, thankfully. But that means they want the filet split in half so it will cook faster and absolutely ruin an otherwise perfect piece of meat. But that’s how they want it.”

  Caitlin made a face. “That doesn’t sound very good to me, either. When I grew up, I thought I hated beef because my mother always cooked it well done. When I went out to dinner with some college friends, they talked me into trying prime rib medium rare and it was an entirely different experience. There’s a reason they call it red meat.”

  Nick laughed. “You’re right about that.” He took the order, hacked the beautiful piece of filet mignon in half and tossed it under the broiler.

  It was Saturday night, and the kitchen was hopping. The hotel was full, and the restaurant was busy with both hotel guests and the general public. The restaurant’s reputation had grown in recent years, and more and more visitors were making the trip to the other side of the island to dine at The Whitley’s restaurant. Nick liked to think he had something to do with that.

  He’d been working there forever, it seemed. He’d started as a dishwasher when he turned sixteen and worked after school and on weekends. He’d moved into other roles after that during college breaks, working every station in the kitchen. After graduating with a business degree, he realized he wanted to keep going as a chef. He worked at a few restaurants in Boston, gained some good experience, and then returned to Nantucket and into his current role about five years ago.

  He liked working for Roland, the head chef. He’d learned a lot from him and in the past few years he’d gained the confidence to experiment a bit and do more of his own creations. So, when someone ordered well-done, butterflied meat, it just made him cringe. But as long as the customer was happy, he’d gladly make it.

  The kitchen officially closed at ten, and it was a little after eleven when Nick was able to call it a day. Usually, on a Saturday night he grabbed an after-work drink with one of the guys in the kitchen. As long as they changed out of their work clothes, they could have a drink or two on the property at any of the bars or restaurants. But tonight, no one was able to join him. Usually if no one was available, he just went home. But Nick was feeling energized after running around all night and he wanted to go out.

  He decided to have a drink at the outside bar that overlooked the ocean. It was the most casual of the hotel’s bars. It was a beautiful night, and he loved that view.

  There was one open seat at the bar, which was u-shaped and held about thirty people. The seat was on the end, next to the cocktail station where the servers waited for the bartender to make their drinks. That’s why it was open. Nick didn’t care, though. He knew all the servers, so at least he’d have a few people to chat with when they came to the bar.

  He slid into the seat and Frank, the bartender, came right over. Frank was in his mid-fifties and had worked at The Whitley for as long as Nick could remember.

  “Hey, Nick, what are you having?”

  It was a warm, sticky night, hot for late May, and a beer seemed like a good idea. “I’ll have a Whale’s Tail draft. Thanks, Frank.”

  When it arrived, Nick took his first sip and relaxed as he looked around the bar. It was mostly couples. He was sitting next to a woman, but she hadn’t turned his way and all he could see was that she had almost black, chin length hair. He figured she must be with the guy sitting next to her.

  He sipped his beer and chatted with Sue and Jamie when they came to pick up drinks. They were busy still with scattered tables on the big patio. There was entertainment, too, two guys on guitars playing easy listening music like Jimmy Buffett and James Taylor. The crowd loved it.

  He was almost finished with his beer and was going to ask for his tab when the woman sitting next to him turned his way, smiled and his whole world shifted. There was something about that smile. It lit up her whole face and it was directed at him. So much warmth. Her eyes were pretty, too—they were a blueish gray and stood out against her dark hair.

  “I’m so sorry. That’s rude of me to have my back to you like that. I thought the seat was empty.” Nick noticed the guy that had been sitting next to her was gone.

  “Oh, no worries. I snuck in a few minutes ago. I’m Nick.”

  She smiled again. “Bella. Are you staying at the hotel?”

  “No. I work here, actually. In the kitchen.”

  “You do? Did you by any chance cook a piece of marinated grilled salmon an hour or so ago? I requested it on the rare side.”

  He liked her already. Almost no one ordered salmon cooked rare unless they were a true foodie.

  “I did. It’s the only way to eat it. I hope it was all right?”

  “It was the best piece of salmon I’ve ever had. Cooked to perfection. Thank you.”

  He grinned. “My pleasure. So, are you staying here?”

  “I am. I’m here for a while, an extended vacation.”

  “Nice. Where are you from?”

  She hesitated for a moment he noticed, then smiled again. “Los Angeles, but I don’t really consider it home, you know? It’s just where I live.”

  “I know what you mean. That’s how I felt when I lived in Boston for a few years. I liked it well enough, but it wasn’t home.”

  “You’re from Nantucket?” She sounded surprised.

  He nodded. “Born here thirty-six years ago. My sisters work here, too. Lucy is at the front desk and Paula is the new general manager.”

  “I met Lucy. She checked me in.”

  “Is this your first time on Nantucket?”

  “Yes. My sister came for a wedding a few years ago and insisted that I come here. She loved it. She’s coming to visit soon.”

  “That will be fun for you. Have you had a chance to play tourist yet?”

  “A little bit. I took the shuttle into town yesterday and did some shopping. I figured I would wait until my sister gets here and then we can explore together.”

  “That sounds like a good plan.”


  Bella’s phone buzzed with a text message. She glanced at it and immediately looked irritated. She shut the phone off and tossed it in her purse.

  “That’s one annoying thing about people on the west coast. They don’t always stop and consider that it’s three hours later here, and who wants to get a business text this time of night?” She sighed and took a sip of her drink.

  “What do you do for work?” Nick was intrigued and wanted to know more about Bella.

  She hesitated and chewed her bottom lip for a moment before answering.

  “At the moment, I’m unemployed and that was someone with a lead for a job. Which is nice, but I don’t want to think about work right now. Let’s change the subject. What do you do for fun, when you’re not working?”

  Nick grinned and held up his beer. “This. Usually with friends, but no one wanted to come out and play tonight. If you mean hobbies—well, I love to fish. It’s almost like meditation. My job is so hectic all the time, and I love that, but when I fish, I can spend hours soaking up the silence, enjoying the calm by the ocean. That probably sounds kind of goofy?”

  Bella smiled, though. “Not at all. I used to love to go fishing, too, with my dad up in the mountains of Vermont. It’s been a lot of years, though.”

  “Well, if you ever feel like going again, you’re welcome to join me. Sundays are the day I usually go if I don’t have other plans. I pack a lunch, maybe a few beers, and a radio and make an afternoon of it.”

  Bella grabbed a pen from the bar and jotted her cell phone number on a cardboard coaster and handed it to him. “Please let me know when you go next. Like I said, I’m here for a few months, so I’d be grateful for something to do. And I was actually hoping I might get to fish.”

  Nick took the coaster and put it in his pocket. “Will do. We have a family thing this Sunday but let’s tentatively plan on the one after.”

  Bella tried to stifle a yawn and failed. “I’m sorry. The day finally caught up with me. I think I’m going to head up to my room. It’s been nice chatting with you, though. Definitely count me in for that Sunday.”

  “You got it. Sleep well, Bella.”

  He watched her go and was already looking forward to their afternoon adventure. She was a pretty girl and easy to talk to. And there was something so familiar about her. But that didn’t make sense. He’d definitely never met her before.

  Chapter 8

  Monday morning arrived and Paula felt a sense of dread as she headed into work. It was Andrea’s first day back in her new role as head of the concierge team. She hoped that Andrea wouldn’t be too furious with her. Paula knew it wasn’t her fault, but she still felt a sense of guilt as she did take her cousin’s job. Her grandfather assured her that he would have let Andrea go regardless and just called the search out. But Paula knew Andrea often held a grudge—especially, for some reason, with her.

  She didn’t run into her cousin until mid-afternoon when she had to go to the front desk to help with a computer issue. Andrea was at the concierge desk by herself and was chatting with an older couple. Paula gave her a wave as she walked by, but Andrea just glared coldly at her before turning her attention back to the guests. Paula sighed. It was pretty much what she’d expected.

  She handled the computer situation then went back to her office to hide for a bit and look over the weekly numbers. She still was most comfortable by herself in her office, but she knew she had to get over that and make a real effort to be out and about, visible with both staff and guests. But she did have some reporting to do, so was happy to spend the next few hours surrounded by numbers. She was just finishing up for the day when David poked his head in her office.

  “Am I interrupting?” They’d only seen each other in passing so far that day. He was working on a project for her grandfather and Paula had been making her rounds earlier.

  “Not at all. I just finished up what I was working on. What are you up to?”

  “I just met your cousin. I thought she was quite charming, and we chatted for about ten minutes or so. But then I brought up your name, and well, I saw a different side of her. She’s not too happy with you at the moment.”

  Paula sighed. “I know. She blames me for her losing her job. She probably thinks I manipulated Grandfather into doing it. She should know me better than that, but she doesn’t take the time to really see things as they are.”

  “I tried to explain to her that you had nothing to do with it. That your grandfather had reached out to me and I suggested he do the same thing. Not that he choose you, necessarily, as I didn’t know you, but just that it seemed time for Andrea to move to a different role.”

  “How’d she take that?”

  David chuckled. “Well, she stopped flirting with me pretty quick.”

  Paula laughed. “That’s Andrea for you. I do hope she likes the new job, though.”

  “She seemed to be. She was chatting away with an older couple and gave them some good restaurant suggestions. She can be quite engaging.”

  “When she wants to be, yes. She’s probably the most social of all of us. She’s always up for going out.”

  “And you’re not?”

  “Oh, I like to go out, sometimes. I am kind of a homebody, though. After a long day, I love to relax and unwind at home usually. What about you?”

  “Kind of in the middle, I guess. I like to grab a drink after work occasionally. Do people do that much here? Other than Andrea?” He raised his eyebrows and Paula laughed again.

  “My brother Nick is always up for going out after work. You should go with them sometimes. More often than not, they get a drink here. Outside if the weather is nice. That’s my favorite bar here, too. We have some good entertainment on the patio Thursday through Sunday nights.”

  “I’ll have to check that out. We should all do after work drinks one of these days.”

  “We should,” she agreed. “How is your mother doing? Is she managing okay on the crutches?”

  David was quiet for a moment before answering. “Yes and no. She can get around fine on them, but she was recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. We worry about her forgetting that she needs them and falling again.”

  Paula’s heart went out to him. The worry was etched across his face. “I’m so sorry. That sounds stressful, for all of you.”

  He nodded. “It is. For my father, especially. But we’ll figure it out.”

  “There you both are. Could we go into my office for a moment? I have an idea I want to discuss.” Paula’s grandfather looked excited about his idea, whatever it was.

  “Of course.” Paula set her pen down, stood and followed her grandfather to his office. David was right behind her.

  “Have a seat, please.” They sat in the two chairs facing her grandfather’s massive dark wood desk. He took his seat behind it, leaned forward and looked at them both.

  “I want to do a Taste of the Town event on our front lawn. Invite a bunch of the area restaurants to participate as well as have a wine tasting. Paula, can you call Peter at Bradford’s Liquors and see if he wants to help? He can arrange for all the wine vendors and then take orders if people want to buy wine.”

  “You mean like what they do at the Nantucket Wine Festival?”

  “No, not like that. They mostly focus on wine with a few fancy snacks. This will be as much about the food as the wine. It’s a chance for local restaurants to showcase their signature dishes. We can give out awards, too, like best chowder/soup, best appetizer and best entree. The restaurants can use that for marketing.”

  “I like it,” David said. “It sounds like a great way to deepen your relationships with area restaurants. They may be more apt to refer people your way.”

  Her grandfather’s eyes lit up. “Yes! That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

  “When would you want to do it?” Paula knew they’d need some time to pull something this big together.

  “I was thinking the week after the fourth of July. That’s one of the busiest weeks here and if
we do it on Monday, it will be easier on the restaurants and the people are here looking for something to do.”

  His excitement was contagious. Paula smiled. “I think it’s a great idea, too.”

  “Okay, good. I’ll let the two of you take this on. We’ll need tents, of course, and ones that can be zipped shut if it rains. Lots of details to manage. But that’s what you’re good at.” He stood. “Okay, we’re done here. Get started tomorrow and make it happen!”

  Chapter 9

  The day that the book arrived for Bella, the weather chose not to cooperate. It was not a beach day. And she didn’t feel like staying in her room all day, so she decided to venture out and go downtown. She put on her ‘keep away’ outfit—the baggy jeans, oversized Nantucket sweatshirt, jean jacket, sunglasses and the pink Red Sox baseball cap. No one would look at her twice in that ensemble. The thought made her happy. She stuffed the thick paperback her agent had sent into a tote bag, grabbed her wallet and room key and went off to find a ride into town.

  A quick stop at the concierge desk helped her to arrange a ride.

  “Head outside, and Johnny should be up in a few minutes. Look for the white Range Rover,” Andrea told her.

  “Thank you.”

  A moment after Bella walked outside, Johnny pulled up and seemed happy to see her.

  She climbed into the back seat and they were on their way. The ride into town took about fifteen minutes or so and Johnny chatted most of the way.

  “Are you enjoying your visit so far?” he asked.

  “I am. It’s wonderful and relaxing. Exactly what I’d hoped for.”

  “Good. Less busy than Los Angeles, right?”

  She was impressed that he remembered. “Yes, so much nicer.”

  “Are you off to do some shopping?”

  “I think so. I might find a coffee shop first and read for a bit. The rain made me stir crazy. I didn’t want to just sit in my room.”

 

‹ Prev