Sex on Flamingo Beach (14 page)

She could very well be wasting her time moving ahead with her idea for the jam now. She might not be in charge of sales at the Flamingo Beach Spa and Resort for too much longer. The department could easily be headed up by someone else and filling the rooms would be their headache. But she was no quitter. Until she was officially told otherwise she would continue plugging away.

In just over twenty-four hours she would know something for sure. Until then Emilie was going to put the whole thing out of her mind and enjoy Harbour Island and Rowan's company.

On Tuesday it would be back to business as usual, if she still had a business to go to.

O
n Tuesday, shortly after sunrise, the Cessna touched down at the Flamingo Beach Airport. No sooner were they on the ground than Emilie felt the tension in her neck and shoulders return. Reality was about to intrude in the form of work.

She drove Rowan to his town house and then went home to change clothes and grab a quick cup of coffee. For once she arrived at the office before Zoe. She spent the first half an hour going through e-mails. Word had obviously gotten out and the sales force was panicking. They were shooting questions at her that she didn't know how to answer.

Zoe came racing in ten minutes late. “I'm sorry,” she said, tossing her bag on the desk and quickly booting up her computer. “You heard, didn't you?”

“What should I have heard?”

“That the hotel is sold.”

“I understood it to be an acquisition.”

“Sold as far as I'm concerned. I'm telling you right up front that I'm starting to look around. I need a job. Tom wants you to call him, by the way. He said first thing.”

Emilie accepted the note Zoe had scribbled with Tom's cell phone and his number at Knight headquarters in Boston. Knowing that she would most likely get him on his cell, she tried that number first.

“Thomas Burke.”

His formality indicated he hadn't glanced at the incoming number. He must be knee-deep in traffic.

“Tom, it's Emilie.”

“Where the hell have you been?”

“In the Bahamas. I'm owed time, remember?”

“Well, you chose a really bad time to take off. I needed you on Friday.”

“I left two hours early, Tom,” Emilie said through gritted teeth. “And I had no idea you were going to show up and call a meeting. What's going on?”

“I'm sure you've heard by now. Landsdale has acquired Knight.”

“What does that mean for us?” Emilie asked, her teeth clenching and unclenching.

“Too soon to tell,” came the noncommittal answer. “Your role is to keep the rumors at a minimum. It's more important than ever that everyone stays focused. It's work as usual. Your goals haven't changed. Keep the hotel as full as possible until I tell you otherwise.”

Emilie asked the question foremost on her mind.

“Does Landsdale still plan on building a casino?”

“As far as I know. I haven't heard anything different. Then again I'm not one of Landsdale's executives, at least not yet.” He laughed nervously.

Zoe stuck her head in the open doorway signaling time-out with her hand. Emilie ended the conversation with Tom.

“Larry Moorehouse's on the phone and Isabella Fuentes from the chamber of commerce left a voice mail.”

“Let's hope this is a go-ahead. Put Larry through.”

Emilie was anxious to hear if Larry had talked the musicians into moving the show, if only on a temporary basis. If she could still pull this off it might work to her advantage. Lansdale might view her as a valuable player and someone they should definitely keep on.

“Hi, Larry,” she greeted. “Tell me you've got good news for me.”

“The majority of the musicians are excited about the change and the exposure. They're especially pumped about Tre taping the show and they're hoping for television coverage. Plus, if some money's being funneled back into the community, it can only do good.”

“What about the city council?” Emilie asked.

“I play chess with some of the men. They think it's a good move.”

“Okay, let me call Isabella Fuentes back. I should be able to get a reading from her.”

“If we have the council's blessing when do you think we can reasonably start?”

“In a month or so. We'll need time to advertise the change of location.”

Emilie hung up and promptly called Isabella. When the community relationship manager came on the line she asked. “So, do you have an update for me?”

“I do. The city council members met yesterday. The majority decided changing the jam's locale is worth a try, even if it's only temporary.”

“Well, that's good news.”

“I heard about the Landsdale acquisition,” Isabella fished. “That organization is really moving in and taking over Flamingo Beach.”

Rather than comment, Emilie thanked her for her help. She got off the phone as soon as she decently could.

After that she caught up with e-mails and took phone calls from anxious sales reps. Come lunchtime she met with Keanu Dinkins and Joya. Keanu, as the convention services director, and Joya, who assisted him with event planning, needed to know what they were taking on. Changing the jam's venue meant lots of work for them.

They sat around the pool tossing out ideas. Joya, who'd brought her laptop with her, was busy taking notes.

“We'll need to get word out quickly that we're moving the jam here,” Keanu suggested.

“I was going to use my advertising budget for radio spots on D'dawg's and Tre and Jenna's shows.”

“I love it!” Keanu shouted excitedly. “What about a full-page Sunday ad in both the
Flamingo Beach Chronicle
and the
Southern Tribune?
”

“Yes, that, too, and huge posters at the restaurants and stores. Especially those on the Row.”

“Historical Row gets a lot of action these days,” Joya chimed in. “I know my grandmother will definitely hang anything you send her in the window of her quilt shop. Harley Mancini and Chet Rabinowitz of All About Flowers will, too.”

Chet was the mayor's gay son. He and his father frequently did not see eye to eye. Chet was as unconventional as they came.

“Flyers are cheaper than posters,” Keanu said sagely as Joya made notes.

“I was thinking ads on park benches and on the boardwalk,” Emilie enthused, getting into it.

“The city should be picking up some of the cost,” Keanu grumbled. “They stand to benefit from this.”

For the next half an hour they continued to brainstorm.

“Shoot! I'm late for another meeting,” Emilie said, jumping up. “Send me a recap of what we discussed.”

When she entered her office, the woman from Davey's Locker was waiting. Emilie had hoped that by partnering with the marina specializing in the lunch cruises it could be mutually advantageous. If she could convince the resort's concierges to sell the lunch experience, in exchange Davey's Locker could push them as the best place to stay. It would be a win-win situation for them all. And she would throw in a continental breakfast for any guests sent their way.

By the time Emilie finished her sales pitch she was wiped. Too much sun from the weekend and too little sleep.

“I've got to get back and help our broker with the mayor,” the representative from Davey's Locker said.

“What's going on with Mayor Rabinowitz?”

“Oh, he's buying a yacht, a huge one, an expensive one.”

“Oh?”

The woman took off promising to get back to Emilie next week with a proposal as to the best way they could leverage off each other's business.

Emilie filed the information about the mayor away to mull over later. She didn't think city officials got paid that much, but what did she know?

“Sister, girl, you've got flowers,” Zoe said, the minute the woman was out the door. She stuck her head into Emilie's office. “Anything you want to tell me?” She held up a ginger jar containing the hugest sunflowers Emilie had ever seen. “Where should I put these?”

Emilie pointed to a spot on the crowded credenza. She was used to getting gourmet baskets and mixed bouquets from clients, but not sunflowers. Sunflowers were a more personal touch. They were her favorite flowers.

Zoe was still waiting for her to say something.

“The suspense is killing me. Aren't you at least going to open the card?”

“I suppose I should.”

Emilie took the card out of its envelope. It had a border of the same sunflowers. Since the florist was All About Flowers, she strongly suspected Chet Rabinowitz was behind it. Chet could be a pain in the butt, but he did have excellent taste.

Emilie's cheeks heated up as she read the note.

Thanks for an incredible weekend. We should do it again.

Hugs and Kisses,

Rowan

Sweet of him, but he was deliberately choosing not to get it, and he was sending her flowers in the hopes of wearing her down. She picked up the phone, not so subtly dismissing her assistant.

“Before you call whoever it is,” Zoe said, “there's something else you need to know.”

“This sounds serious. Perhaps you should have a seat.”

Zoe sat, her normally animated features now solemn.

“You know I go through your e-mails and handle the ones I can.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Well, I've been keeping some from you.”

“Why?”

That wasn't Zoe's style. The thing that Emilie had always liked about her assistant was that there was no subterfuge. She'd always spoken her mind and given unsolicited opinions. She also kept Emilie abreast of what was going on at the hotel.

“I printed out copies of the e-mails and placed them in a folder. I can go get them if you like.”

“Why don't you just tell me what's in them.”

“They're not very nice, and they're not signed. Someone, or several someones, has a problem with you dating Rowan James.”

Emilie was on her feet. “That's nothing new. It's no one's business but we're not exactly dating.”

“The e-mails accuse you of crossing over and some pretty ugly stuff. You're called a white-person lover amongst other things.”

“Are there any that are threatening?”

“Not overtly.”

“Then I don't want to see them. Toss them out.”

“I don't think that's smart. I've got to get back to work.” Zoe rose and began backing out of the room. “I'll hold on to that folder for a while.”

Outside a man cleared his throat.

“I'll be right with you,” Zoe called. “Um.” She stuck her head back in seconds later, whispering, “There's a fine man out here who says his name is Mack Allen, and no, he does not have an appointment.”

Emilie wondered what had brought the engineer to her office. He was a welcome and nice distraction.

“Give me a couple of minutes and then send him in.”

Emilie used that time to touch up her makeup, studiously avoiding looking at the beautiful arrangement on her credenza. It was a poignant reminder of a man she liked maybe too much.

A perfect example of what she would face if she got further involved with Rowan lay in Zoe's folder. She didn't need hate mail or her future children harassed. Where did that come from? No, someone like Mack Allen was a better choice.

“Hi, what brings you here?” she greeted Mack when he came sauntering in.

“I got done with a meeting early and remembered you worked here, so I asked the front desk how to find you. Nice flowers. Is it a special occasion?”

Those damn flowers again, a reminder of Rowan and a relationship that could never happen.

Emilie smiled brightly at him. “Not really. It's just a thoughtful gesture sent by a friend.”

Mack must have decided it was smarter to leave it alone. “How was your weekend?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Very nice, thank you. How are you enjoying your stay?”

He had to have seen her leave with Rowan and put two and two together but he wasn't letting on.

“I'm learning quickly that everyone knows everything in this town and can't wait to share it.”

“Welcome to Flamingo Beach,” Emilie said, splaying her arms.

“Before I put my foot in my mouth, I should ask if the relationship is serious.”

Here it came.

“What relationship?”

“Uh, with James, the developer.”

“I don't mean to be rude, but what concern is that of yours?”

Her directness did not seem to faze him.

“I came to ask you to a cocktail party to commemorate the ground breaking. I don't think it's appropriate if you're already involved.”

“I'm not and I accept.”

Mack looked as if she'd just handed him the keys to her home.

“Great. Sorry I can't give a lot of advance notice. It's tomorrow. Is that a problem?”

“Tomorrow's good.” It gave Emilie time to catch up on a few things. If she played her cards right she could make this cocktail party work for her, maybe she could even find out what was going on with the Landsdale-Knight thing.