I think about Lucas and Ava a lot while we clean the rooms and prepare them for the next folks coming in after lunch. Lucas will need a good preschool in autumn. I can't home-school him, and Bella goes back to school in September, as well. I doubt her parents will let her take on as many babysitting duties then. And even if Lucas is in a preschool, I'll still need someone to look after Ava. Maybe a local daycare would be an option.
My thoughts quickly overwhelm me by the third room. I've got too much on my plate, even now. My mom hasn't called, so at least I've got some peace in that sense. She understood where we stand, or so I hope. Theo is doing wonderfully in Hollywood. I've already seen some stills of her from the new TV show she's currently shooting. It seems as though life is moving forward. I, too, am moving forward, even if it sometimes feels like I'm not going anywhere.
I remind myself I am better today than I was two weeks ago. Or a month ago.
"Ugh, watch out. The first arrivals are coming," Connie warns me as we bring the carts down from the upper levels of the bed and breakfast, just in time to watch a tall, vapid blonde walk in, accompanied by Sammy, our concierge. The poor guy is struggling with two giant Louis Vuitton suitcases as the woman saunters over to the reception desk with her nose up high in the clouds. "This one's gonna be doozy…"
"She sure looks like it," I mutter.
We're both watching her from the bottom of the stairs. Neither of us is moving, as if we're afraid she'll see us. I feel like a mouse waiting for the cat to walk by.
The blonde looks loaded and then some. Huge boobs, clearly fake. There's at least one nose job involved. A fake tan. Long, gelled nails. Shimmering gold bangle bracelets that jingle furiously with every exaggerated gesture she makes at the receptionist. That tight peach-colored cashmere dress hugs her slim figure in all the right places, but it's way too short and the cleavage is way too deep for my taste.
"Give her a second," Connie whispers. "Marie is about to tell her dinner is at seven."
"How is that a problem?" I ask.
"What do you mean dinner is at seven?" the blonde croaks, downright outraged. "What about lunch?"
"It's fouro'clock, Miss O'Shaughnessy," Marie politely tells her. "And the restaurant is closed until dinner."
"That is unacceptable!" the woman exclaims. "I'm hungry, and I need to eat. I need to speak to your manager right away!"
"Ah, there it is," I sigh, rolling my eyes.
"She's gonna be a handful."
"Do you know her?"
My colleague nods slightly. "She comes around twice a year, at least. She always calls ahead and asks when Mr. Kendrick is gonna be in."
"Which Mr. Kendrick?" I can't ignore the knot forming in the back of my throat.
As if summoned, Noah comes out of his office, though he's busy looking over some papers as he heads toward the breakfast room bar—likely to get himself another coffee. The blonde immediately spots him and lights up like the sun, putting on a lascivious smile and dipping one hip to the side.
"Noah, darling! It's been ages!"
I think I'm going to be sick. But I keep quiet behind my linen cart as I watch the entire scene unfold. Connie sticks by my side, curious and not at all interested in catching the woman's attention at this point. That would be like getting between the hungry cat and its food.
Noah glances up from his pages, and his eyebrows arch with surprise when he sees the blonde. "Samantha. Glad to have you back," he replies politely. He even puts on a smile, though it doesn't seem as genuine as any smile he throws my way.
"Always a pleasure, dear!" Samantha says, moving closer while the receptionist handles the check-in process and Sammy carries her luggage to the service elevator. "How've you been? You look more handsome every time I see you!"
"Thank you," Noah says. "I'm good, just busy organizing some events here this week. How are you?"
"Oh, ready to mingle and spend some time with you," she replies, patting his shoulder in a manner that makes my blood boil. I've got to keep my head screwed on, though. Right here, right now, I'm just the maid. Nothing more, nothing less. "You escaped my clutches the last time I was here, honey, but you're not getting away from me this time."
Noah laughs. "I'm sure we'll see each other around, Samantha. You'll be staying the whole week, right?"
"No, the whole month."
"Lord have mercy," Connie mutters beside me.
"Don't you have your charity events in New York?" Noah asks Samantha.
She grins delightedly. "Daddy said I could let my assistant do it if I need some time to myself. Besides, they don't really need me there. All I ever do is sign checks and approve which paintings go up in the gallery. Oh, I also pick out the hors d'oeuvres, but being out here with you sounded infinitely more appealing."
"You're too kind," Noah replies, slowly inching away from her.