“Are you sure you want to be at work during this storm?” Ron asked as they hung the last board.
“I’ll admit I’m nervous leaving the house unattended after the last storm, but I’ll be making extra cash. We’re only at fifty percent occupancy so it shouldn’t be too busy.”
Ron nodded. “Let’s hope this storm isn’t as bad as the last one.”
Satisfied the house was secured, she locked the door and shoved her suitcase into the car. Ten minutes later, she maneuvered into a tiny parking space, surprised to find the garage so full. Entering the lobby, she was met by a queue of people from the front desk, twisting back and forth three times before reaching the front door. She hurried into the office, depositing her suitcase under her desk before searching for Jonathan.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Coastal evacuation. Every hotel in Orlando is filling up,” Jonathan replied his breath coming in short gasps.
“Are you okay?” She laid a concerned hand on Jonathan’s arm.
“Had to run to the kitchen and back. Really need to get in better shape.”
Lizzie laughed. “What can I do to help out?”
“If there’s an open station on the desk you can help with check-ins. I don’t know how many rooms we have left, though.”
“Alright, I’ll check inventory and get out there.”
She slipped behind the front desk where three other agents were already assisting guests. The next family in line rushed forward the moment they saw her, demanding her attention before she’d even logged into the computer.
“We need two connecting rooms, non-smoking, one with a king bed,” the woman barked.
“Give me a moment to see what we have available,” Lizzie said in an even voice. She pulled up the hotel inventory and scanned the remaining rooms. “How many in your party?”
“Five, two adults, three kids, that’s why we need two rooms.” The woman’s impatience was evident.
“I don’t have any connecting rooms available. I do have a room with two queen beds and I can see if we still have a rollaway you can use.”
“That won’t work. I have three boys; they aren’t going to sleep together.”
“I’m truly sorry, but as you can see we are quite busy and there are only so many rooms available. You may have better luck at a larger hotel, but I imagine everywhere else is just as crowded.” Lizzie offered a sympathetic smile.
“This is ridiculous! We have been on the road since seven this morning. It took us five hours to get here from Vero Beach. I expect you to find rooms to accommodate me.” The woman slapped her hand on the counter.
“Ma’am, I understand this is a stressful time, but yelling isn’t going to help. I can only offer you what we have available. If you don’t want to take this room then I’m sure there is someone in line behind you who will.”
“Grace, listen to the lady.” The husband stepped forward. “We don’t have a lot of options at this point. I don’t want to get in the car again.” He pulled out his wallet and set a Visa card on the counter. “We’ll take the room and the rollaway if you have one.”
Lizzie took their information and booked the room. While she waited for the keys to print, she sent an instant message to her friends at other hotels looking for available rooms. Each of them replied they were in similar situations with long lines and limited accommodations.
“Thank you for your help,” the man said as he shoved the keys into his pocket. “I hope you can forgive my wife.”
“I completely understand. I’m sure she will be fine once you get settled in the room,” Lizzie replied with a warm smile. As the next family made their way to her station, she checked the inventory again and found only two rooms remaining.
“Good afternoon, thank you for your patience,” Lizzie greeted the new couple in front of her. “I have one room with a king bed available.”
The couple gave each other an uncomfortable look. “Do you have anything with separate beds?” the woman asked with a shy smile.
“Unfortunately, I only have two rooms left, and I need to use the one with queen beds for a family.”
“It’s fine,” the man said and smiled at the woman, “I can sleep on the floor.”
“If we have any extra rollaways, I can send one up this evening,” Lizzie offered. The young woman just nodded, an embarrassed blush reddening her face. When the reservation was completed and the couple had left, she checked the inventory one more time and found the hotel was at capacity.
“Can I have your attention please,” she called to the crowd still waiting. “Quiet please!”
It took several minutes for the noise to settle down. “I’m afraid all of our rooms are now booked. If you want to wait here we would be happy to see if there are any other hotels in town that can accommodate you or if there are any shelters you may go to for the night.”
The lobby erupted in groans and angry shouts.
Lizzie sent the front desk agents into the office with instructions to contact other properties and shelters. She watched families argue and children cry, fearing a riot might break out if she wasn’t able to help these guests. An instant message appeared on her screen from Stephen and she let out a sigh of relief.
“I have some new information,” she called, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. The room slowly quieted with hundreds of eyes boring into her. “Several hotels in the area are opening up their ballrooms to accommodate guests. There will be a limited number of cots set up and plenty of extra blankets. I know it’s not ideal, but it is a safe place to stay and that is what’s most important now.
“Weather reports have the outer bands of the storm reaching us in a few hours. We are printing out a list of hotels where this option will be available as well as a list of shelters. I would recommend calling the location you wish to go to so they can hold a spot for you.”
Questions were shot at her like machine gun fire. People began pushing forward trying to reach the desk. Lizzie caught a glimpse of figures exiting the office into the lobby and was surprised to see Stephen leading four of the bellmen into the crowd and creating a barricade along the desk. He called for the mob to settle down and form an orderly line. His voice boomed through the lobby commanding attention.
In minutes the lobby was organized in three lines with hotel employees providing print outs to each family as they passed by. When the last guest exited the lobby, Lizzie congratulated the employees for remaining calm during the ordeal.
“You guys did a great job,” Jonathan addressed the group of front desk and bell service employees. “Those of you who are not on the team staying through the storm should get home before things get bad out there.”
A glance out the window showed the sky was dark and a light rain was already falling. The small group of remaining employees cleaned up the soda cans, napkins, and discarded brochures littering the lobby. Jonathan pulled Lizzie aside.
“I appreciate you taking charge of the situation.” Jonathan’s praise surprised Lizzie. In the five years she’d worked for him, not once had Jonathan recognized her efforts. Lizzie smiled and nodded, at a loss for words.
“Are you sure you and Stephen can handle things tonight? With the place full I could see if anyone else would be willing to stay,” Jonathan said.
“I hate to ask anyone at the last minute. I’m sure Stephen and I will be fine, but we may need some kitchen staff,” Lizzie said.
“I’ll see what I can do.” Jonathan nodded and took off for the kitchen.
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
Edward Robbins struggled to lift himself out of bed, still weak from his heart attack. He shuffled his slippered feet down the long hallway and entered the kitchen. Jacquelyn sat at the table nursing a cup of black coffee. He poured himself a cup before sinking into a chair across from her.
“I suppose I need to call someone to board up the house for this storm,” Edward muttered.
“Jeffrey is already working on it,” Jacq
uelyn replied. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard him.”
He took a sip of coffee and winced as he burned his tongue. Slamming the cup on the table, he sloshed more hot liquid over the sides onto his hand. Jacquelyn rose without speaking to get a towel, mopped up the mess and settled back into her chair. A faint hammering sound interrupted the heavy silence.
“Sounds like he’s almost to this side of the house,” Jacquelyn said.
“So now he’s the model son?”
“Don’t start, Edward.” She glared and Edward sighed.
This subject had been a point of contention between him and his wife since his return from the hospital. He’d made a point of avoiding Jeffrey on the occasions he had been to the house, annoyed that his wife was so eager to welcome their son.
He reached for the business section of the newspaper fanned out on the table. He thumbed through the section, pausing periodically to skim a story, until his eyes caught on an article discussing the safety procedures on local construction sites.
The incident at the Plaza was only one in a rash of accidents on worksites around the city, but it was the main focus of this story. The journalist seemed intent on dragging the Robbins family name through the mud, rehashing many of Jeffrey’s well-known social blunders. Edward could feel his blood pressure rising as he read. When he finished, he crumpled the paper and threw it across the room.
“The article about the Plaza?” Jacquelyn said.
“You knew about it?” he barked “Why didn’t you say something?”
Jacquelyn shrugged. “What’s to say? There isn’t anything new in it.”
Her casual attitude stoked Edward’s anger. How could she be so nonchalant about all this; his good family name being tarnished by their selfish little brat? He heard the back door open and turned to see Jeffrey stepping into the kitchen from the back porch. He wore jeans and a faded t-shirt, a hammer dangling from his right hand. When their eyes met, Jeffrey stopped. He looked at his mother then back at his father.
“I hope I didn’t wake you,” Jeffrey stammered. “I left the windows near your bedroom until later.”
“Is it true you were in a bar fight last month?” Edward demanded.
“I’m not sure what you mean.” Jeffrey frowned.
Edward waved toward the ball of paper. “They say you were in a fight downtown.”
“It was nothing.” Jeffrey set the hammer on the counter and pulled a glass from the cupboard, which he filled with water. Edward studied him, his eyes narrowing into a menacing glare.
“Must have been something or the paper wouldn’t have carried it.”
“How many times have I heard you say you can’t believe everything you read? I believe your words were ‘the vultures will write whatever they can to discredit our family’”
“That they will,” Edward grudgingly agreed. “But there is often at least a grain of truth in their lies.”
“It was a misunderstanding.” Jeffrey gulped down the last of the water. “I better finish up.”
“Don’t you walk out on me,” Edward tried to yell, but in his weakened condition, it came out as a plaintive cry.
“Calm down,” Jacquelyn said as the door shut once more. “You know you aren’t supposed to get excited.”
“How can I not get excited when that boy is around?”
“I know you’re upset with him, but he is still our son.”
Jacquelyn walked to the sink and rinsed out her cup. Edward watched her move, her steps graceful, and her stride confident. Even in her baggy pajamas she was elegant, the picture of aristocracy. For forty years she had stood by him, supported him, and now he felt she had turned against him.
“I’m going to get dressed,” she said as she turned from the sink. “I need to run to the store before the weather gets bad. I hope they still have some Brie. I can’t stand the thought of having just the blue cheese with my wine tonight.” Jacquelyn disappeared into the hall leaving Edward alone at the table.
He sipped at his now cold coffee reflecting, he found himself doing this a lot since the heart attack. Reflecting on what he had done with his life, how his own father would be so disappointed to see the family legacy ending with him. The Robbins men had been in the real estate business for six generations. They’d obtained large tracts of land throughout the state of Florida, selling to development companies when the money was right and acquiring new land with the profits. The business had been passed from father to son, but now whom would it pass to? Would all that his family had built be parceled off to the highest bidder when he was dead? The thought depressed him but at the same time gave him resolve to get well, to defy nature and live on.
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
Jeffrey hefted a large plywood square onto his shoulder and walked around the house to his father’s bedroom window. The curtains were still drawn, thick green drapes that blocked out the sun. Ian waited by the window.
“I’m surprised you called me to help,” Ian said as he took a corner of the wood.
“Yeah, well don’t read too much into it.” Jeffrey scowled.
“It’s nice of you to do this for your folks.”
“Edward doesn’t seem to think so.”
“He’ll come around.” Ian set a nail in place.
“I don’t know about that, he’s a proud man and he feels like I have disgraced the family.” Jeffrey beat a nail into his side of the window frame. “Maybe he’s right.”
“What celebrity family doesn’t have a black sheep? Look at all those Hollywood types, they’re in the news every week, and they don’t seem too worried about it.”
Jeffrey finished nailing the bottom of the board and leaned against the wall. His shoulders ached, his hands were dirty, and he longed to jump into the pool and cool off. The humidity was near a hundred percent making the air heavy and sticky.
“I don’t know if Edward will ever accept me back into the family.”
“You didn’t exactly forgive him right away. You can’t expect him to forgive you simply because you’re now back in their lives.”
“But my mom…” Jeffrey had been surprised at how quickly his mother had accepted him back into the family fold.
Ian shook his head. “Mom’s are different. They have a connection to us our dads never can. It has something to do with the whole giving birth thing. Believe me, I heard that from my mom every time dad and I would fight.”
“I guess.” Jeffrey remained unconvinced. “Did you hear when the storm is expected to reach us?”
“Not until this evening, but the rain extends out several hundred miles so we could start seeing that soon.” Ian looked toward the eastern horizon where clouds were building. “I’m glad I never got around to removing the tape from my windows.”
“Me too, this is exhausting.” Jeffrey hoisted another wooden square and the men repeated the task of securing it.
When all of the windows were covered, Ian and Jeffrey returned to the kitchen, and pulled a couple of cans of soda from the fridge.
“Mom wants me to stay here during the storm in case anything happens. She’s worried Edward might have another attack.”
Ian took a swallow of soda. “You gonna do it?”
“I don’t know.” Jeffrey turned up his can finishing off the drink in a long gulp, smacking his lips in appreciation. “I’m not sure I can stand her hovering over me all night and being cooped up with Edward isn’t all that appealing.”
“Well, I’m glad you called me for help. If you need anything else let me know.” Ian rose and dropped his can in the recycling bin by the door as he left.
Jeffrey sat for a moment surprised at how quiet the house was. When he’d lived here, there had always been activity, the maid vacuuming, or the cook singing. He wandered through the empty rooms, every light was blazing, to combat the darkness caused by the boarded up windows.
He dragged his finger along the back of a plush white couch and a polished cherry table as he moved through the living room to a long
hallway lined with closed doors. He stopped in front of a door, no different from all the others, paused, glanced up and down the hall, then reached for the pewter colored handle. It turned smoothly and the door swung inward without a sound.
He stepped inside, flipped on the light, and walked to the twin bed, above which hung a poster for the band Metallica. Papers scattered on the desk caught his attention and he went to inspect them, recognizing several drawings of his favorite buildings. They lay right where he’d left them years ago, but there was not a speck of dust on them or anywhere on the desk.
He moved to the bookcases by the window and found everything as he’d left it, even the gaping holes where he’d taken some of his books and photos. He remembered throwing his clothes and a few treasured belongings into a bag when he left for college. Upon graduating, he had gone to work for one his father’s development companies, evaluating properties they were interested in purchasing and assessing their structural integrity to decide if they could be repurposed or should be demolished. He found the work depressing and boring, yet he felt an obligation to be part of the family business. His heart, though, longed to build things, not destroy them. He’d made numerous attempts to show how retrofitting a building could give it new life, but was always shot down.
He lay down on the bed and closed his eyes, exhausted.
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
Aside from the rain pattering on the windows and wind whistling through the eaves, the lobby of Hotel Lago was eerily quiet. The guests had retired to their rooms, so Lizzie pulled a couple of barstools behind the front desk.
“I’m glad you agreed to work with me.” She gave Stephen a warm smile. “I’ve been wanting to sit down with you and talk about your future here.”
“My future?”
“I know you never intended on getting into hospitality, but now that you’re here I want you to think about becoming a concierge. You just need to learn a few tricks on how to deal with people like Mrs. Henderson.”
“I don’t know if I could ever learn how to deal with her,” Stephen stammered. “I’m not good with women in general.” He dropped his gaze to the floor, an embarrassed flush creeping across his cheeks. Lizzie laughed.
“There’s not as much to it as you might think. Take Mrs. Henderson for example. She needs people to listen to her, she needs to feel she is the center of attention, and if that means she has to cause a scene then that’s what she does. If you listen, validate her, and make her feel like whatever she is concerned about is being taken seriously, she can be as manageable as a sleeping kitten.