Be My Love Song (2 page)

“I thought this old mausoleum survived the biggest, baddest
hurricane ever? Why worry about it now?”

Morgana’s flippant attitude bothered Madeline. “Don’t joke. The
1900 hurricane you’re speaking of killed an estimated twelve thousand people.
Yet it was only a category four. The beach has eroded, we are more vulnerable
now than we were then. Preparing is smart and being enforced. If I can’t make
these changes, I’ll have to close the Bed and Breakfast. And I certainly can’t
let that happen.” This was a subject she felt passionate about. Maddie was so
vehement in her defense, she forgot what they were arguing about. Until…

“Shutting down Windswept would solve all our problems,
especially if we could make a tidy profit in the process.” When she saw Maddie
was ready to argue more, Morgana held up her hand. “No matter. We’ll debate the
wisdom of selling Windswept soon enough. Tell me about this boyfriend. How long
have you been dating? When can I meet him?” Morgana crossed one long leg over
the other and wiggled her foot at the ankle.

Meet him? Heck! She was in a mess now. Maddie started to
admit she’d made up the whole boyfriend claim. But she knew the moment she did,
Morgana’s ridicule and insults would hit a new high. Somehow…somehow she had to
convince her sister she had a real boyfriend. “You want to meet him?” Stall.
Stall.

“Of course I want to meet him. I want to see this boyfriend
with my own two eyes.” Morgana’s tone was one of skepticism.

Maddie grew flustered. How was she going to pull this off?
There was no way she could ask the real Weston Rogers to dinner. Heck, she
didn’t even know him. There was no way she could call him up and coerce Mr.
Rogers into pretending to be her boyfriend. He was a professional.

Professional! That was it! She’d hire someone! A
professional. A professional escort. “He’ll be here for dinner tonight,
Valentine’s Eve. You can meet him then.”

Morgana didn’t look entirely convinced. There was doubt in
her eyes. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Chapter
Two

The flowers had been delivered. All of the rooms were full
of paying, happy guests and the cook had prepared a sumptuous meal for those
who wanted to dine in. Romance was in the air.

Madeline walked the lobby of Windswept, running a hand over
the fine wood mantle which had once been part of the bow of a pirate ship. Her
daddy loved this place and so did she. The B&B was blessed with a great
reputation, a five star rating and had been reviewed in several major
newspapers and magazines. Presidents had slept here, confederate soldiers had
been cared for in the lobby, and the guestrooms had been filled with the
homeless when surge waters had swept the island. This was her home. Her family
wanted to sell it, pocket the money and live in the manner to which they were
accustomed. Madeline disagreed, she wanted Windswept. She’d never be rich, but
she was comfortable and content. Her family could do the same. If he were
alive, Martin Cross would never sell Windswept and she wasn’t about to either.

The guests who came to stay with her enjoyed their escape
from the everyday. Within these walls they were able to leave their troubles
behind. Madeline and her staff gave them a carefree stay with sumptuous baths,
soft as air mattresses and service with a smile. If they encountered a spirit
from the past—well, there was no extra charge.

Today, Valentine’s Eve, everyone seemed content—except the
owner, Madeline Cross. She was attempting to locate a man who would pretend to
be her lover. “There’s no listing in the yellow pages for escorts,” she
grumbled. Slamming the phone book closed, she turned to the computer instead.
When Elaine, the temporary help, crept up behind her, Madeline angled the
monitor so she couldn’t see. Doing a google search for ‘male escort services
Galveston Texas,’ she hit enter and waited to see what would happen. To her
immense relief, several website links popped up. Quickly, she scanned them. The
one that caught her eye was named BOYSQUAD.

Okay.

Maddie clicked on it and was shocked when a page of
thumbnail photos popped up. Hmmm, she’d been expecting men in suits, but what
she got was shirtless shots of men’s torsos with rippling abs or ones of a
man’s bare backside. Neither pose was very helpful for her purposes. She wanted
faces! Nevertheless, Madeline studied them one by one and finally clicked on a
gentleman by the name of Rod Long. “He sounds reasonable and has a nice chest.”
She enlarged the photo, but there was no more to it than what she was
seeing—only bigger. Seeing that Elaine and Tilly were nowhere in sight, she
dialed the number and was shocked when someone answered on the second ring.

“What can I do you for?”

The poorly worded question took Maddie by surprise. “Good morning,
sir. Are you Rod Long?”

“You got him.”

“Very good, I hope you’re well. My name is Madeline Cross.”
She greeted him in a congenial voice. “I would like to enquire if you’re
available for dinner this evening?”

“Dinner?” She could hear some typing and a voice in the
background. “Will I be spending the night?”

Madeline thought. “Give me your rates and let me consider
it.” Actually, if it wasn’t too expensive that scenario might go a long way in
solving her problem.

“Well, I charge a hundred dollars an hour or eight hundred
for the whole night. If you want something really kinky…” the man laughed, “I
might knock fifty off.” He laughed some more. Maddie sort of liked his accent.
Very exotic.

“The whole night seems like the best value.” She gave him
the minimum amount of information he’d need to pretend they were dating. “When
you come, if you could tell my employee at the desk that your name is Weston
Rogers and act like we know one another well. When we’re together, just follow
my lead. Come to the Windswept Hotel at seven, I’ll be cooking dinner and if
you could dress business casual, I’d appreciate it.” Madeline gave Rod no
chance to reply or ask questions. Primly she hung up and smiled, satisfied.

“Madeline! Madeline!” Tilly came running across the lobby.

“What’s wrong?” She jumped up, concerned.

“The guests in 213 are naked on the beach!”

Maddie’s eyes grew wide. “The temperature is in the 40s.
This isn’t the Polar Bear Club.”

“I know, they’re turning an odd shade of blue.” Tilly grabbed
Madeline’s hand and hauled her over to the front windows. Several other guests
stood and watched also, hands over their mouths.

“Oh, my goodness,” Maddie grumbled. “They’re too old for
that kind of PDA.” She hid a smile, seeing the middle-aged couple attempting to
reenact the famous surf scene in the old movie
From Here To Eternity
.
“Tilly, run out there and tell them if they want to swim nude, they need to
ride the ferry over to McFaddin Beach on Bolivar Peninsula. If the police catch
them here, we’ll be fined and so will they.”

She shook her head as her employee started off to do her
bidding. Tilly didn’t get very far before she turned around and yelled, “That
architect called, he’s going to have someone drop off the drawings for you to
review this evening.”

“Good. Let Elaine know about that and be sure to tell her I
have a gentleman caller coming for dinner, so it will be okay to send him up
around seven this evening.”

“A gentleman caller?” Tilly gave her an interested stare.

“Don’t ask.”

“Yes, ma’am. Gotcha. Your sister left bright and early, she
said she’d be shopping on the Strand until after lunch.”

“Good. We can use all the economic stimulation we can get.”
The Strand was Galveston’s Rodeo Drive. It was only a block off the bay where
cruise ships and the tall ship Elissa docked. There would be enough high
fashion there to occupy her easily distracted sibling. And as for the
architect’s plans? Well, Maddie couldn’t worry about the renovations right now,
she had to get ready for her ‘date.’ Putting on a show good enough to convince
Morgana she didn’t need help with men was as important as protecting Windswept
from falling into the wrong hands.

As she made her way toward the elevators, several guests
were arriving. “Hello, I hope you all have a good time. If you need anything
let us know.” Valentine’s Day wasn’t her favorite celebration, she much
preferred Halloween or Christmas. When you had no significant other, the
holiday was pretty meaningless. All of the happy couples holding hands and
sneaking kisses made her sad.

“Excuse me, miss.” A beautiful young redhead stopped Maddie
with a hand on her arm. “Could you recommend a few things we could do in
Galveston during our stay?”

“Certainly,” Maddie answered, donning her tour director hat.
“The local symphony orchestra is playing at the Galveston Opera House tonight
and the whole island is celebrating Mardi Gras with parades on the Strand,
dances on the seawall and there’s a masquerade ball at the Hilton hotel. Check
with our concierge for tickets.”

Her husband leaned in and whispered, “How about something
spooky? Any ideas?”

“Ah.” Madeline grinned. “You’re certainly staying in the
right place. We have several resident spirits. A confederate soldier is
sometimes seen on the second floor balcony off the billiard room and children’s
laughter is sometimes heard in the hall on the first floor west wing.” She was
about to tell about Lafitte’s hounds when he interrupted her.

“Oh, we’ve researched Windswept. We know about the woman who
appears on the widow’s walk and the phantom pirate ship. Believe me, we’ll be
keeping our eyes peeled for those rascals. How about away from the hotel? I
brought my ghost hunting gear.” He patted his duffle.

Madeline had her spiel ready. “Galveston is listed as one of
the most haunted cities in America. Make reservations to visit the Menard
House, take Dash Beardsley’s ghost tour and drive down to the University of
Texas Medical Branch’s Ewing Building. There’s a huge face on the outside wall
that many believe is the image of the man who used to own the property. His
will stated that the property was never to be sold.” As Maddie told the tale, a
little crowd gathered around her. People loved stuff like this. She continued
with her story. “When his heirs went against his wishes and sold this prime
piece of beach front property to a university, the building that was
constructed had an unusual decoration appear on one of the concrete panels. A
very recognizable face appeared. The owners sandblasted it off, but the face
reappeared on the next panel below. Again it was sandblasted and again the
image moved lower.” A few gasps could be heard.

“Did they sandblast it the third time?” the woman with the
bright red hair asked.

“No,” Madeline whispered. “The door is right below the third
panel and they were afraid he’d come right in.”

While a conversation began among the guests gathered in
front of the check-in desk, Maddie escaped to her quarters. She had a lot to
do. Despite living in a hotel, she took care of most of her own needs herself.
The maids didn’t clean her quarters and she cooked her own food, unless there
was something on the menu downstairs that was particularly appealing. Living in
a Bed and Breakfast could be overwhelming, guests were demanding and there was
always something going on. That was why Maddie made a concentrated effort to
carve out her own little niche in the big mansion. She couldn’t be too
critical, however, Windswept couldn’t exist as a private home, not without a
major influx of cash. Since she wouldn’t bend to her family’s manipulation
tactics and had no hope to marry anytime soon, the Bed and Breakfast was the
answer.

After she prepared a strawberry trifle, Maddie vacuumed all
the rugs and dusted the furniture. There were no antiques in her suite, she
preferred French country to French provincial any day. Now, she needed to get
the beef tenderloin ready for the oven. Since this wasn’t a real date, Maddie
wasn’t worried about her hair being perfect or what she would wear. Morgana’s
opinion of her couldn’t be lower and Rod would be happy if his check didn’t
bounce. So there was no one she was anxious to impress.

She set the table, prepared a salad and moved her basket of
the festive cyclamen to the coffee table as a centerpiece. Needing a moment to
breathe, Madeline went to the window and gazed out at the water. On the West
end of the island, there was no seawall. From the front door of the hotel to
the surf was only a couple of hundred yards. A comfortable sitting area flanked
the boardwalk leading over the dune and steps wound their way down to the sand.
There was even a beautiful pool and cabana on the beachside for her guest’s
enjoyment. Feeling peaceful, she peered out over the Gulf, counting twelve oil
tankers lined up to enter the Houston ship channel. A harbor master would come
and escort them through the crowded waterway.

No matter the chill in the air, there were always people on
the beach hunting shells, watching birds or boats and enjoying the sea air.
Even though she had lived in this home most of her life, she never grew tired
of watching the water. One day was never like the one before. In the last year,
she’d seen a whale, found a US ammo box washed up on the beach filled with
silver certificates and Confederate money, and picked up an arrowhead. She
loved the history of the area and studied everything from the legends of the
pirates like Jean Lafitte to the Native American Indians, the Karankawa, who
were reputed to have been seven feet tall and cannibalistic. Morgana always
said it was no wonder she didn’t have a boyfriend, Madeline’s interests were
too far removed from dancing, dressing up and playing the coquette to attract a
man.

Too bad, Madeline thought. She couldn’t change herself just
to please a member of the opposite sex. Especially when she was never fortunate
to keep one very long. Ah well, maybe when Morgana married she would be so
occupied that she’d retire from tormenting her. At least this time, the man
would stay faithful, at least for the duration of dinner. After all, she was
making it worth his trouble—for money! How would she explain that she and
Weston’s relationship was so short-lived? Maddie wracked her brain. Ah, she’d
think of something. Morgana wouldn’t be surprised when Maddie broke the news
they’d parted ways. That was one unfortunate advantage to her romantic
ineptitude.

A noise at the door alerted her that Morgana was home. She
rushed around to pick up a few stray items like dust cloths, her slippers, a
Kindle—things that her sister would find fault with. Just as the door flew open,
she whirled around, her dark hair flying, trying to appear nonplussed. “Why
aren’t you dressed?” Her sister was aghast.

Oh well, Morgana was always aghast about something. “I’m
about to.” She waved her hand. “It doesn’t really matter. West loves me exactly
as I am.”

“Oh, the man’s blind, I see.”

“You’re mean.” Maddie didn’t know if it was Morgana’s
attitude or the late afternoon chill, but she decided to turn on the gas
fireplace and warm the room. “You won’t be dining with us, will you?” She hated
to be rude, but three was a crowd—even on a fake date.

Morgana studied her nail polish. “Of course, Magpie.” She
looked at Madeline pointedly. “Do you think I’d miss this momentous occasion? I
intend to meet your man so I can report to Mother. After I’m satisfied he’s for
real and not a figment of your imagination, I’ll go to my room and think of
ways I’m going to spend the money I get from selling this haunted house. You’ll
forget I’m even nearby, I promise.”

A distinct ick feeling crept up Maddie’s spine. “You just
came to spy on me. I’m sorry, but you can tell Mother there’s no way I’m ever
agreeing to sell. This is my home.”

Morgana gave a casual shake of her well-kempt tresses.
“You’d do well to change your mind. If you’d come home with us and quit trying
to live as a common innkeeper, maybe you could have some semblance of a decent
social life. Hugh Beaumont’s single, you could start by agreeing to speak with
him. Who knows? He might be visually impaired enough to find you acceptable. I
know he finds this prime beachfront property attractive.”