by Judith Keim
She nudged me. “Grab a second cup of coffee, and let’s go check on things.”
Outside, a crew of men was smoothing concrete on a newly poured pad for the new dining room. Studying the slab, I measured in my mind’s eye how many people the room would hold and hoped the day would soon come when we could seat such a crowd for a meal. Without money coming in, each exciting bit of progress on the house added a strain to my nerves.
Going into business, starting the process with a promise of money paid out over time from Robert, was one of the scariest things I’d ever done. But I understood the company couldn’t afford to do a payout in one lump sum. And Rhonda didn’t want to waste a minute before getting the project started.
We left the workmen and walked over to where the cottage stood. Gutted, it looked forlorn with no interior walls. Exposed wiring hung on hooks, like threads of a broken spider web.
Rhonda threw an arm around my shoulder. “Lookin’ pretty bad, but it’s gonna be real nice. I just know it.”
“I hope so.”
Later, we met with Rhonda’s tax consultant. His unpretentious office sat over a clothing store on one of the side streets off the main drag. Kenneth Small looked exactly like his name—short and compact. Close to retirement, he exuded an air of quiet confidence as he discussed the basic agreements in forming an LLC and talked to us about everything from tax impacts to long-range planning. His voice droned on and on.
Rhonda looked as confused as I felt.
Kenneth’s expression turned grim. He turned to Rhonda. “You should never have contracted to have the work done on the house without first having your agreement with Ann squared away. You say the lawyer should have that by the end of the week?”
Looking like a chastised middle-grader, Rhonda nodded.
Kenneth looked me in the eye. “I can tell you’re not about to take advantage of Rhonda, but that isn’t always the case for a wealthy woman like her. The truth is, most of Rhonda’s money is tied up in trusts and other non-liquid forms.”
“I understand. Believe me; I want to be able to make this project work for both of us,” I said calmly, but I felt attacked.
He gave me a look of satisfaction. “All right. Now let’s talk about the bookkeeping system you’re going to use.”
By the time we left his office, I was nursing a headache.
We drove home in silence.
After changing into more comfortable clothes, I sat out on the pool deck with Rhonda. She’d mixed up a batch of margaritas. I sipped mine, trying to remain calm as Kenneth Small’s warnings repeated themselves in my mind. The hotel business was risky, and I knew it.
“Do you think we can do it, Annie?” Rhonda gave me a worried look.
Telling myself we had a fighting chance, I pushed aside lingering doubt. “Before I left Boston, I talked to a neighbor of mine, a hospitality consultant. He agreed with our concept in principle. It fills a niche in the marketplace. A small, luxurious hotel like ours will be a nice alternative for people who want to escape their daily routines, unwind in a tropical atmosphere, and stay in a more relaxed, estate-like setting.”
The jangling of the phone stopped our conversation. Rhonda answered it and handed the phone to me. “Your lawyer.”
“Ann? Syd Green here. We have a bit of a problem. I thought the agreement for the sale of your company stock was all set to sign, but now Robert is claiming that with the bad year they’ve had, he’s had to rethink things. He says the real value of your stock is lower than appraised. He doesn’t think you should’ve been given so much stock anyway because your help in the business was nothing more than secretarial work, even at the beginning.”
My headache sprang to life. I grabbed onto the edge of the glass-topped table. “That’s not true! He could never have had the company up and running if I hadn’t been there, working beside him. And it was a lot more than typing and filing! I set up his whole advertising campaign, from magazine and newspaper ads to meeting with various businesses. I organized all office procedures, everything. It was my original idea to begin with, and I worked to make it real. It was mostly my money that helped give him his start. I want my full share, Syd!”
“I understand, but I’m warning you that the deal may fall through. Your letter of intent is non-binding. It’s based on the appraisal. Robert says he’s not accepting the appraisal he was given. Trying to fight it would be counter-productive. Let’s work with him on this.”
Acid pooled in my stomach. Robert had become such a liar I didn’t know him anymore.
“What about it, Ann?”
I didn’t have much choice. If I tried to fight it, the lawyers would take any gain I might receive. “All right. I need the money to go ahead with this project down here. But I’m telling you, it’s not fair!”
“Life isn’t always fair, Ann. Think it over. Sometimes, we have to make compromises.” Syd’s calm voice made me grit my teeth as he continued. “I admit I don’t understand Robert’s attitude because I’m well aware of all you did to help him out. If it’s any comfort to you, I feel he owes it to you to do the right thing. But that’s not happening. Let me see what I can do. I’ll get you the most money I can.”
I hung up the phone and burst into tears. Without the sale Robert and I had agreed on, I didn’t know how I’d come up with the money Kenneth Small had insisted we have before beginning the project. Fixing up the cottage was an additional problem.
I told Rhonda the gist of the conversation.
She gave me a pat on the back. “We gotta keep moving forward, Annie. We can’t stop now.”
“I know.” But I felt as if I were swimming upstream in a raging river.
Over the next few days, I concentrated on drawing up a business plan for the hotel. Rhonda had insisted we apply for a business loan, and I wanted to be prepared. I poured my heart and soul into the details of the plan, praying the optimistic projections we made could succeed, and the plan I outlined step by step was not the result of mindless imaginings. I’d made the move to Florida intent on making the project work, and now, I might not even be allowed to try.
CHAPTER FIVE
After much discussion and many revisions to our business plan, Rhonda and I went to the Main Street Bank. If our meeting here was not successful, I might not be able to stay in Florida as part owner of the hotel.
The receptionist took our names, made a phone call, and then an attractive young woman appeared to greet us. She led us into a board room oozing Bahamian charm with its dark-green carpeting, pale-pink walls, and a mural of palms and tropical plants.
“Mr. Rice will be with you shortly,” she announced cheerfully and left us.
I wiped my sweaty palms on the skirt of my gray linen dress and paced the room. A leather notebook, filled with our business plan and other documents, lay on the table before me.
Rhonda gave me a pat on the back. “Don’t worry, Annie. They know me here.”
A tall, debonair man with white hair and a golf-course tan entered the room and beamed at Rhonda. “Good to see you again, Rhonda. Very good, indeed. And who is this lovely young lady?”
“Hi, Bob.” Rhonda placed a hand on my shoulder. “This is my business partner, Annie Rutherford.”
I shook hands with him and took a seat at the table next to Rhonda, facing him.
“Well, then. What can we do for you today, Rhonda? I must say, I’m curious to know about the business you wanted to talk to me about.”
Rhonda explained what we had in mind with such eagerness I couldn’t help smiling. She handed him our business plan and continued talking, waving her hands excitedly, flooding him with information. In her enthusiasm, she said a few things that weren’t exactly correct, but the documents she’d handed him were. Rhonda stopped talking.
Bob took a few moments to look over my resume and then focused his attention on me. “Interesting, Ms. Rutherford. I’m amazed at all the work you did in setting up the business with your husband.”
His smile filled m
e with pride. After spending years downplaying my role in the business to build Robert up, it had been a revelation to me to see what skills I’d used to accomplish all of it. I took over the discussion with Bob, detailing my business background and experience with more confidence, trying to convince him that what I could bring to the table was valuable. I told him I’d consulted with an expert on the viability of such a project, and the financial projections I laid out for the first two years were achievable.
He gave me a perfunctory smile and turned to Rhonda. “As much as I admire Ms. Rutherford’s experience and yours, you understand there’s no way we could consider making a loan to the two of you unless we were assured that you would continue to bank with us. And we would need to use the hotel as collateral. Of course, the fact that you have several large accounts here is very important to us.”
Feeling as if I’d been kicked in the stomach, I collapsed against the back of my chair. He’d apparently dismissed everything I’d said.
Rhonda glanced my way and turned back to Bob. “So,” she said in icy tones, “I keep my money here, and we get the loan. Is that it?”
His cheeks turned bright red. “Well, I didn’t mean that in so many words ...”
Rhonda shrugged. “I just want to get it straight ... you know, make sure we understand each other because I can always take my money elsewhere.”
His face blanched. “Oh, my! I want to assure you we never considered refusing you a loan. A good customer like you ...”
Rhonda turned to me and rose. “Well, partner, that’s set. Shall we go?”
Bob rose to his feet and stood beside the door. “We’ll have the paperwork ready for you to sign first thing tomorrow.”
“At your best rate and terms.” She smiled sweetly at him, and I wanted to kiss her.
“Thank you, Bob,” I said, trying my best to be civil. “We appreciate your support.”
Outside, I grinned at Rhonda. “You were wonderful!”
She shook her fist. “The prick! What did he think he was doing? It made me sick, the way he treated us!”
I silently vowed that even if it meant working day and night, I’d make the hotel a success.
###
I arose early and dressed, eager to see the cottage before the workmen arrived. I tiptoed outside and, stretching, took a moment to breathe in the cool, salty air. Another winter storm had hit the north, and Robert would, no doubt, be shoveling snow. Maybe, I thought meanly, he’d have a heart attack and die.
As I pushed through the hedge and paused, a wave of happiness washed over me. The small, stucco cottage would soon be mine. I walked up to it and entered through the front door. A wide-open space greeted me, broken here and there by studs for the new walls. Seeing the drawings on paper start to come to life, I could hardly wait to move in.
Determined to make things right, I returned to the main house to give Syd Green a call. I’d yet to hear from him regarding a compromise with Robert. My heart sank at the thought of giving up my new life in Florida. I greeted Consuela, already at work in the kitchen, grabbed a cup of coffee, and headed to the library to make my call. I punched in Syd’s number and waited nervously for him to answer.
“Sorry, Mr. Green is out of the office today and won’t be back until Monday,” his secretary told me.
Sick with disappointment, I let out a long sigh. If he’d heard any good news, Syd would’ve called. I calmed myself and settled behind the desk to review our plans—plans that might or might not take place.
Later that day, Rhonda and I arrived at Brock’s house just after six o’clock. Several cars were parked along both sides of the street and in his driveway. The sound of jazz floated through the open doorway of the sprawling, single-story, Spanish-style home.
Brock’s face lit with pleasure at the sight of us. Rhonda kissed him lightly on the cheek and gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. “I thought it was going to be a small get-together. I had no idea it was going to be an all-out party!”
Brock laughed. “You know how these things grow down here. If you ask one or two people, suddenly it’s three or four, and more and more. Anyway, it seemed like a good payback time for all those dinners I’m always invited to attend.”
He lifted my hand and kissed the back of it. “Even with all these other people here, I have no intention of ignoring you.” His gaze lingered over me. “You look lovely tonight.”
My black silk pants and pale-blue silk shirt had seemed plain next to Rhonda’s colorful print caftan, but now, I was glad I’d worn them. My skin was a golden brown from the sun, and my eyes were offset by the blue of the shirt. The simple pearl earrings and the strand of pearls around my neck completed an outfit that would win even my grandmother’s approval.
After Brock had greeted all his guests, he approached me. “Let me give you a tour of the homestead.”
A wing off to the right contained a large master suite that opened up onto the lanai. Two guest suites sat in the opposite wing. The kitchen, living room, dining room, and small library were overflowing with guests, but I was able to see the many art objects displayed in glass cases or placed strategically in niches here and there.
I pointed to what looked like an ancient pottery piece of a god or goddess of some kind, sitting on a shelf in the library. “It’s lovely.”
He smiled. “Not as lovely as you. I’m hoping we can become friends—very good friends. I’m leaving in a couple of days to go up north. My company needs me, but I’ll be back in time for Rhonda’s annual spring party. After that, perhaps you’d consent to have dinner with me here, alone?”
At the way he was looking at me, my hands and feet turned cold. I wasn’t ready for a real date. Not now, maybe never. “I’d have to check with Rhonda. I’m staying with her for the time being, and I wouldn’t want to appear to be rude.”
Brock laughed softly and gave me a wink. “Leave Rhonda to me. It’ll be okay. I promise you.”
I smiled, but my insides did somersaults at the idea of dating him or anyone else.
###
Our days became filled with preparation for the annual brunch Rhonda held as a farewell to the snowbirds and a salute to year-round folks. She’d proudly told me it had become a tradition in Sabal.
Under Rhonda’s supervision, Consuela and I kept busy in the kitchen chopping, stirring, and tasting the dishes we were cooking and freezing ahead. It pleased me to see us all working together.
As the time of the party drew near, I decided to go into town to look for something new to wear to the party—something more in keeping with the resort atmosphere. My conservative wardrobe from Boston seemed out of place among tropical palms.
The air felt good as I walked briskly, enjoying the exercise. It was a pretty little town, filled with unique shops, galleries, and restaurants. I strolled along Palm Avenue taking in the sights. I stopped outside one of the shops and studied the two-piece outfit in the window. The softly draped, light-green pants were paired with a sleeveless top with a scooped neckline. Sparkling rhinestones were strategically placed among its colorful, tropical, floral design.
I went inside, and a short time later, I walked out of the store with the outfit. Not only did it fit perfectly, it was on sale. Robert would never have approved of anything so flashy, but I was pretty sure Rhonda would.
When Rhonda saw the outfit, she gave me a hug. “You’re coming along, Annie. It’s perfect for you. Too bad we’re not the same size; I’d borrow it from you.”
My smile wavered. Had I overdone it?
She looked at me, and we laughed together.
###
The day of the party, Manny was kept busy outside, helping to park cars. A policeman directed traffic on the street. I stood inside the front doorway, amazed by the number and variety of people who greeted Rhonda at the top of the steps with warm embraces. Even the mayor of Sabal embraced her with enthusiasm.
A priest arrived, and after greeting Rhonda, introduced himself to me as Father Hennessey. He
stood beside me, a fond expression on his face as he watched Rhonda greet other guests.
“Such a good soul she has,” he murmured.
A short, round, gray-haired woman approached us.
“How are you, Mrs. Stern?” said Father Hennessey.
“Fine thanks.” She turned to me. “Who are you?”
I smiled and held out my hand. “Ann Rutherford, from Boston. My daughter, Liz, and Angie are roommates at college. That’s how I met Rhonda.” We’d agreed earlier not to mention the hotel or our business partnership until we had our final approvals.
“I’m Dorothy Stern, and any friend of Rhonda’s is a friend of mine. She’s been a huge blessing to so many of us.” She inspected me through glasses whose thick lenses made her eyes seem as big as golf balls. “Your outfit is stunning. Very Florida,” she said before moving away.
Father Hennessey and I exchanged amused glances.
A number of people approached him, and I wandered over to the buffet table. Each tray was garnished with parsley or other herbs or, like the individual miniature mushroom quiches, enhanced with hibiscus blossoms.
“Hello there,” came a familiar voice in my ear. “Mmm, good enough to eat.” Brock leered at me playfully, as if he’d been talking about me and not the food.
I laughed and felt an unexpected chill race down my spine.
“Let’s go outside, shall we?” Brook took my elbow and guided me through the crowded living room, onto the lanai.
A few people were circling the pool with their drinks. Others were admiring the view of the ocean and the lush landscaping.
“Have a seat here in the shade,” said Brock. “I’ll run inside and get us each a plateful of food. I don’t want to miss tasting a thing. Rhonda’s a fabulous cook.”
I watched his long, easy strides as he walked away, and noted how many of the women in the group followed him with their eyes. My thoughts drifted back to the time I’d taken Robert home to meet my grandmother. He’d charmed her and all of her friends with smooth talk and easy grace. Robert wasn’t as handsome as Brock, but they shared a certain sureness about them that translated into a worldly take-charge manner that most people found attractive.
