She hears Alessandra’s bracelets but she doesn’t look over. She slides two key cards across the desk. “I’ll discuss your payment options with my GM, but for now, let’s get you settled in your suite.”
Alessandra clears her throat.
“Do you have luggage?” Edie asks.
“Yes, the gentlemen out front…” Kimber checks behind her. “There’s quite a lot of stuff. I think they’re just unpacking the car.”
“And they have Doug!” Wanda reappears, though Louie has made himself comfortable over at the chessboard.
“Excellent,” Edie says. She has no idea who Doug is; maybe a stuffed animal, maybe an imaginary friend. “I can’t wait to meet him. Since the bellmen are busy with your luggage, I’ll show you the way.” At this point, Edie has no choice but to turn to Alessandra. “I’m just showing the Marsh family to their suite, I’ll be back in a moment.”
Alessandra’s smile is glacial. “Of course.” And then to Kimber: “Enjoy your stay and let us know if there’s anything we can do for you.”
No sooner does Edie emerge from behind the desk than Adam walks in with the luggage trolley, filled to the tippy-top with bags. Adam catches Edie’s eye and says something under his breath that Edie doesn’t hear and, based on his tone and facial expression, probably doesn’t want to hear. A second later, Zeke English, who graduated from Nantucket High School two years ahead of Edie and who is so smoking hot he makes Edie feel kind of dizzy, comes into the lobby with a dog on a leash—a lean and muscled blue-brindled pit bull. Edie knows the breed because Graydon, her ex, had a pit bull named Portia. This dog, who is wearing a black muzzle, pulls Zeke along, its nails skating across the rare wormy chestnut floors of the lobby.
Edie’s mouth drops open and she looks at Zeke and then Adam—but it’s clear they’re both expecting her to handle this. “Is this Doug?” Edie chirps.
Kimber’s expression brightens. “Yes. I put the muzzle on him in the minivan, which he was not happy about. He’s a sweet couch hippo, but he can act up around strangers.”
He can act up around strangers, so why not bring him to a resort where there will be strangers around constantly? Edie starts to sweat. When you want to spend the summer on Nantucket with your children and your dog, you rent a house. Why didn’t Kimber Marsh rent a house? It’s possible she couldn’t find a suitable rental at the last minute. Or maybe she didn’t want the upkeep. Maybe she wanted a pool, a wellness center, and room service. There could be lots of reasons, but one thing has become clear: Edie needs to speak to Lizbet. She’s too anxious to gauge Alessandra’s reaction. “Will you take Ms. Marsh and the children to their suite?” Edie says to Adam. “I’m going to call Lizbet.”
“What about the dog?” Zeke asks. “Take him?”
All Edie can picture is Doug jumping up on the sumptuous white bed, chewing on the rope and driftwood frame, clawing at the white sheers, peeing on the Annie Selke rug. She gets the shivers. She figures the Faraway turned the Marshes down not because of the cash but because of the dog. “Would you and Doug wait outside for two seconds until I speak to Lizbet?”
Zeke looks put out; the dog quite obviously wants to follow the rest of the family but Zeke shepherds him back outside. Edie glances at Alessandra, who offers ice-cap eyes. She’s not going to help. Okay, fine. Edie pops into the back office and tries Lizbet again, and this time Lizbet answers.
“Lizbet?” Edie says. “We’ve had our first walkins! It’s a woman named Kimber Marsh and her two children. They want to stay for the entire summer and they’re paying cash.”
“Please tell me you got a credit card, Edie,” Lizbet says.
“She’s going through a divorce, so both her cards are frozen. She said she’ll give us the first week plus five hundred for incidentals—”
“Oh no, Edie!”
Only now does Edie realize how absurd this sounds, and she’s barely started. “I upgraded her to suite one fourteen because it was empty.”
“You upgraded her,” Lizbet says. “For the entire summer? Please tell me you’re joking.”
“Those family suites are just sitting vacant.”
“They’ll fill up,” Lizbet says. “And when they do, we’ll lose room revenue on your eleven-week upgrade.”
Edie has messed this whole thing up. If this were role-playing back in college, she would get nothing but “feedback for improvement.” Here in the real world, she might get fired, and she hasn’t even told Lizbet the worst part.