Yolanda says, “You look like a person in need of a yoga class. How about thirty minutes in savasana pose?”
Lizbet manages a smile. Although Yolanda is right, Lizbet can’t imagine ever practicing with her again, not after all this. “I’m fine, thanks,” she says. “It’s just August.”
Lizbet worries beads along a mental string: Mario, Mario, Yolanda, Mario, Yolanda.
But then something steals her full attention.
It’s eleven o’clock on Thursday, August 4, and the lobby is popping. Louie is playing Mr. Tennant from room 201 in chess and the match is so close, there’s a little crowd around them; it includes Richie and （an exasperated） Kimber Marsh, who are waiting for Louie to finish so they can all go to the 167 Raw food truck for tuna burgers and then to Cisco Beach. Edie is on the phone with the Galley, trying to secure a beachfront lunch reservation for room 110, and Alessandra is calling the Hy-Line to make a reservation for the Keenan family, who somehow neglected to arrange for their transport home.
Lizbet is about to head to the percolator—it will be her eighth cup of coffee, which is a lot, even for her—when she notices a woman enter the lobby. This woman is dressed in the best kind of casual way: cute jeans, a white blouse that’s as crisp as paper, and gladiator sandals. She’s rolling in a hunter-green Away carry-on, which is the exact same bag that Lizbet travels with. Her dark hair is cut in a bob at her jawline and she’s wearing chic glasses. None of this is particularly remarkable, but Lizbet gets a feeling. The woman stops just inside the entrance to the lobby to look around. She whips out her phone and begins to take pictures and type notes. Lizbet hurries over.
“Welcome to the Hotel Nantucket,” she says. （Adam always sings this; it’s a fun touch, but Lizbet can’t pull it off.） “May I help with your bag?”
“Thank you,” the woman says. She follows Lizbet to the desk, where she pulls out her Washington, DC, driver’s license and a Delta SkyMiles Platinum American Express, both in the name of Claire Underwood.
Claire Underwood. Washington, DC. House of Cards! Lizbet thinks. （Lizbet and JJ watched all six seasons.） Here’s what Lizbet has been waiting for: an inside-joke alias. Lizbet tries to act natural. She wishes that she could let Edie and Alessandra and Raoul and Adam and Zeke know that Shelly Carpenter is in the house! They should have come up with a secret signal word, like Amsterdam or unicycle. Why did Lizbet not think to do that? They all knew this day would come. Shelly posted her review of the bed-and-breakfast in Hyannis Port only five days earlier. Maybe she popped over to the Vineyard to check out the Winnetu or the Charlotte Inn and now she’s here on Nantucket. She’s purposely arrived at eleven in the morning, which is the most frenetic time of the day because of guests checking out. Lizbet quickly reviews the reservation: three nights in a standard deluxe room, paid in full, booked on July 5 （the day of Lizbet’s first date with Mario, she can’t help thinking）。 “Claire Underwood” booked long before all the brouhaha about the ghost.
Lizbet says, “It’s so wonderful to have you staying with us, Ms. Underwood. Are you visiting Nantucket for any special reason?”
Claire/Maybe-Shelly smiles. “Just a quick getaway,” she says. “I was curious about the hotel.”
Lizbet bites her lower lip to keep from giving Claire/Maybe-Shelly an unhinged grin. “There are a few things you should know about our property. Technically, checkin is at three—”
“I understand,” Claire/Maybe-Shelly says.
“But I’ll try to get you into your room as soon as possible.” Lizbet goes on to tell Claire/Maybe-Shelly about the adult pool and the wellness center, and then she hands Claire/Maybe-Shelly a copy of the Blue Book. “This lists all of our recommendations for shopping, restaurants, beaches, galleries, bars, and nightlife. If you have any requests, please let me know.” Lizbet realizes with horror that she has forgotten to introduce herself. “I’m Lizbet Keaton, the general manager.”
“I do have some requests, actually,” Claire/Maybe-Shelly says, pulling a piece of paper out of her cute woven clutch. “First off, would it be possible for me to get a room upgrade?”
A room upgrade? Lizbet thinks. The hotel is full! But she understands that Claire/Maybe-Shelly has to ask; it’s what savvy travelers （and famous hotel bloggers） do. How will they ever get the fifth key if Lizbet can’t accommodate this request? They won’t is the answer.