Once Upon a Summertime (3 page)

“Me too.” Marley laughed. “Elsie runs the creative end of the shop—since it was originally her shop. But Max has taken over the business end. He handles the bookkeeping and office work and whatnot, which really frees Elsie up to be creative.”

“What a nice setup.” Once again, Anna felt a twinge of jealousy, and she did not like it. She wasn't usually an envious person. What was wrong with her?

“Aha!” Marley held up her phone victoriously, looking like she'd struck gold. “I was absolutely right.”

Anna set down her spoon, moving her empty bowl to the side. “About what?”

“You see, Max is good friends with the couple that owns the building where the Elsie Dolce shop is located. It's in SoHo. Anyway, their names are Denise and Vincent Newman. And believe me, they are über-rich. I think Vincent was a real estate mogul, an associate of Donald Trump or someone like that. But for rich people, they are actually very down-to-earth. Anyway, Max has done bookkeeping for Vincent.” She paused for a breath and a bite.

“Okay, I'm feeling a little lost here,” Anna confessed. “Does this have something to do with me, or is it just a good story? It's fine if it's just a good story. I'm actually enjoying it.” She didn't want to admit how much more colorful it was than her bland little world.

Marley swallowed her bite. “Here's the deal, Anna. Vincent Newman has been working on this cool old building, the same building that Elsie's shop is in. Naturally, she's on the first floor with a street entrance. Anyway, it's this fabulous brick structure, not too tall, probably about ten or twelve stories. It's called the Rothsberg, and it's about a hundred years old and has been renovated a few times. I've been through a lot of it and it's very cool. It even has a courtyard—a valuable asset in the city. And it still has a lot of its original architectural elements too. Big bay windows with carved cornices, high ceilings with intricate crown molding,
and some gorgeous stone floors in places—like this fabulous mosaic in the foyer.”

“Uh-huh?” Anna sipped her iced tea, trying to imagine this old building and wondering why Marley seemed so obsessed over it.

“For the past several years, Vincent and his wife Denise have been renovating the Rothsberg. Sparing no expense either. According to Denise, it will be the grandest building in SoHo—and she might be exaggerating, but maybe not. According to Max—and this is under the cone of silence—the Newmans are putting a fortune into this building.”

“Sounds like a very cool project. I've heard how much New York apartments can go for. Like in the millions.”

“No. It's not going to be apartments. It's a hotel. A boutique hotel. The Rothsberg of SoHo.”

“Oh . . . ?” Anna heard the pitch of her voice rising with interest. “A boutique hotel? Interesting.” Anna used to dream of working in a boutique hotel in a big city.

“You can imagine how pleased Elsie was about this. She has a five-year lease on her shop space, so the extra traffic from the hotel will be a real boon for her. A local coffee roaster is vying with Starbucks for shop space too. Max and Elsie are rooting for the local. Although I must admit that I like Starbucks.”

Anna sighed. “Can you imagine if Springville ever got a Starbucks?”

Marley laughed. “Yeah, like that's going to happen. Well, back to the Rothsberg. It will have about sixty rooms, plus a restaurant, a pool, a workout area, and some other amenities. But here's the best part, Anna. According to Max, it's scheduled to open this summer. He said they're just starting
to furnish the rooms this week and the Newmans are hiring employees right and left.”

Anna felt an unexpected flutter of hope. “Did you say the hotel opens
this
summer?”

“Yes. And that's why I just texted Max. I asked him to check with Vincent to find out if you can send him a résumé.”

“Really?” Anna took in a quick breath. “Do you honestly think this guy—Mr. Newman—would actually consider me?”

“Why not? You have a degree and some experience—even if it is at the Value Lodge.”

Anna frowned. “That's not going to impress some rich New Yorker.”

“But
you
could impress him.” Marley pointed at her. “Anna, you are smart and motivated. I know you're a hard worker.” She grinned. “You're not hard on the eyes either. Don't take this wrong, but the Newmans are really into appearances. It's not that they're shallow, but they like attractive people. I bet they'd love you.”

Anna made a grateful smile. “Thanks. You're sweet, but you're my friend—you have to say that.”

“Hey, I still say you could pass for Nicole Kidman's little sister.”

Anna laughed. “Well, if I were, I might have a better chance of landing a job at a boutique hotel in New York.”

“You could do it, Anna. I know you could.”

Anna allowed herself to consider this. “Well, I wouldn't expect a top management job. I'd be happy to be an assistant manager or night manager or whatever. Do you think I'd really have a chance?”

Marley shrugged as she reached for her drink. “You never know unless you try.”

“I know,” Anna murmured.

“And you can't just give up.”

“No,” Anna agreed with more enthusiasm. “You're absolutely right. I can't just give up.”

As Anna walked back to work, she considered the picture Marley had just painted for her. A gorgeous boutique hotel in SoHo, with a restaurant and a courtyard, not to mention a delightful bakery and a Starbucks on its way. It all sounded so perfect—so wonderful. Like a dream come true. Was it really possible that she would be considered for a position? Perhaps even a lower management position? And then she remembered her grandma's warning: when something looks too good to be true, watch out!

Despite a nagging little voice inside of her
,
reminding her of all the reasons this plan would never pan out, Anna's feet felt light as she walked back to work. Yes, she knew the chances of this New York real estate mogul and hotel developer being impressed by her sparse résumé were slim; even so, she felt hopeful. Sure, it was probably irrational, but somehow that whole conversation with Marley had given Anna real hope. Like she could almost see the light at the end of her long gloomy tunnel. And even if she didn't land a job in New York, like Marley had pointed out, there were other hotel management jobs out there. Why couldn't Anna land one of them? After all, she had put in her time—she'd paid her dues. Two years was long enough to waste away here.

After the registration “rush” passed and guests were settling into their rooms, making the usual calls to the desk, mostly requests that were passed on to housekeeping, the motel grew relatively quiet. Capitalizing on this calm, Anna
pulled her own résumé out of the motel's computer system and, after giving it a few quick tweaks, emailed it to Marley just like she'd promised. As she hit Send, Anna sent up a little prayer too. Or maybe it was a plea—somehow she had to get out of this place.

With that done, she decided to make sure that Mickey had cleaned up around the swimming pool like she had asked him. Since it was a hot day, it wouldn't be long before some of the guests meandered on down there. The last time she'd passed by the pool, earlier this morning, it had looked like a wreck. Probably the remnants from last night's teenagers. She wished she could rely on the fact that she'd asked Mickey to handle it—but she knew that was no guarantee.

“Loretta,” she called back to the office where the bookkeeper was working. “Mind keeping an eye on the reception desk for a few minutes? I need to check on something.”

Loretta looked over the top of her glasses and waved. “No problem.”

“I've got my phone if you need me,” Anna called as she headed toward the west wing. While she walked down the hallway, she called Mickey's number, asking him to meet her in the pool area. But when she arrived, not only was Mickey noticeably absent, but the back end of the pool deck was still trashed with bottles, cans, dirty towels, and fast-food packaging. Feeling exasperated at the reckless teens and her MIA janitor, Anna pulled out a pair of vinyl gloves—she always kept some handy because you never knew what you might find in a motel like this—and started to clean up.

As she picked up disgusting pieces of trash, she felt seriously irked at Mickey. This certainly wasn't the first time he'd neglected janitorial duties that were his responsibility.
Nor was it the first time she'd stepped in and covered for him. Grabbing a nearby trash can, she proceeded to collect the debris, tossing it in. Thankfully, no guests had come to the pool yet. She tried not to imagine how disappointed the young couple with their two little ones would've been to find this garbage dump.

Before long she had removed all the rubbish, and since the pool was currently unoccupied, she decided to give the cement decks a quick hose-down. While she did this, she decided to arrange the white plastic lounge chairs all facing toward the pool in a nice line, as if this were a four-star resort. Spraying the decks and arranging the chairs, she imagined the ways this pool area could be spruced up. Just a few simple elements could make such an improvement, starting with some neutral-colored paint on the privacy fence over there, a few potted shrubs by the main entrance here, maybe some flowerpots with hardy petunias to add color.

“Hey, Anna.” Mickey sauntered across the wet deck toward her with his usual cocky expression—like he thought he was still the football jock he'd been in high school a few years ago. “What's up? What're you doing?”

“Your job,” she said tersely.

“Thanks.” He made a sassy grin. “Wanna do a job swap? Then I can have
your
job.”

“I told you to clean this pool area this morning, Mickey.”

“I did.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly. “No, you did not. I just did it myself.”

“Hey, I cleaned it this morning.” Averting his gaze, he squinted into the sunshine. “Can I help it if someone else trashed it since then? People can be such slobs.”

Controlling the urge to spray him down, she simply handed him the hose nozzle. “Go wash down the other side of the pool.” She pointed at the lounge chairs. “And I want the chairs arranged just like this, three times a day. Once in the morning. Then again just before check-in time at 3:00. And again at the end of your shift.”

His brows arched. “Getting all high and mighty, are we?”

She gave him a warning look. “By the way, did you clean the parking lot like I asked you to do?” She actually knew the answer to this already. She'd seen it on her way back from lunch.

“Yeah, sure. I did that this morning too.”

“Right . . .” She was about to call him on this as well as his other lie, but she noticed the young family coming toward the pool gate. This wasn't the place for a showdown. Suddenly she remembered something else that had been bothering her since her conversation with Jacob.

Walking with Mickey as he went to the other end of the pool, she spoke quietly. “Jacob mentioned that you were still on duty when those teenagers were out here last night, Mickey. Is that right?”

“Yeah, I was here. The kids weren't acting too crazy then. Nothing worth calling the cops over.”

She pointed to the trash can she'd set by the back fence. “Those bottles and cans I just picked up were not all soft drinks, Mickey.”

He just shrugged as he sprayed the deck.

“You didn't notice any booze last night?” She pointed to the sign on the wall. “See the third rule?
No alcoholic beverages
.”

He shrugged again, adjusting the hose nozzle to a firmer flow so that the overspray splashed onto her shoes.

She stepped back. “And you didn't notice that the kids were underage?”

“What is this—the Spanish Inquisition?”

She just shook her head, then, seeing the family was inside the pool area and within hearing distance, she simply turned and walked away. If she were truly the manager of this fleabag motel, Mickey would've received his walking papers long before this. But she knew that wasn't going to happen. She'd already complained about him to the owners once, shortly after she started work here, nearly two years ago. That was when she discovered Mickey was the owners' nephew—and that his job as “head janitor” was probably more secure than her own.

“He's my brother's son and he's had a rough go,” Sharon Morgan had confided to Anna after the meeting. “Cut him some slack, okay? He just needs to know we believe in him. He'll straighten out in time.”

Anna had cut him slack. It seemed like she cut him slack almost every single day. And unless she was imagining things, Mickey's slack was rubbing off on the other employees. It was like a disease of slacking had plagued this motel. Oh, certainly not everyone was affected. A few employees still took their jobs seriously. The Gonzales sisters, for instance—if Anna wanted something done right she would ask Rita or Consuelo to do it. She knew she couldn't depend on Shawna; although she was head of housekeeping, she was also Mickey's on-again, off-again girlfriend. Anna could never keep up with the couple. Since Shawna had been even less motivated lately, Anna would wager they were “off-again.” Not that Shawna was ever particularly motivated anyway. Anna couldn't begin to count how many times she'd spotted Shawna and another
maid lounging in a room with the TV on and just visiting as if they thought they were on vacation. Shawna's favorite response was, “Oh, it'll get done. It always gets done.” Maybe so, but it was the way it got done that really made Anna want to pull her hair out.

Despite the training meetings Anna had held with housekeeping—trying to teach them time-saving tricks, build up their morale, encourage them toward excellence, and explain that cutting corners could lead to lost jobs—other than the Gonzales sisters and a couple others, the rest just returned to their old bad habits. And some of their bad habits were truly disgusting.

Anna had learned several things while working at Value Lodge—things she would never do if she were forced to be a guest in this motel. First of all, she would never drink out of a bathroom water glass. She would never walk barefoot over the floors. She would never assume the bathroom was sanitized. Beyond that, she would definitely remove all but the sheets from the bed before sleeping. And that would be only after she'd checked the mattress for bedbugs.

Did she feel like a failure because the motel she managed couldn't maintain even the most basic standards of cleanliness? Of course! But she also knew that there was little use trying to change things as long as the owners didn't back her. One could only beat one's head against the wall for so long before one looked up and saw the writing on the wall. Maybe it was time to go.

As Anna walked back to the reception area, she made a managerial decision. Maybe it was partially prompted by the visions of the New York boutique hotel that were dancing in her head, or maybe she had simply had enough of the
Value Lodge. But back at her desk, she knew it was time to do something drastic. Even if her efforts aggravated the owners and led to her dismissal, she was going to do it. At least she'd know she went down for a good reason.

She typed out various warning letters—several that sounded familiar—letting the recipients know this would be their final warning. She made it clear that failure to comply with her corrections would result in joblessness (possibly her own too, although she didn't mention that). She also informed the staff involved that these letters would be followed up by a meeting tomorrow morning. She would come to work an hour early, so that Jacob would be here. She might even bring doughnuts just to reassure everyone that she wasn't trying to be mean.

Hopefully they would go home and read their letters carefully and perhaps truly grasp the gravity of their situation. She wanted their full attention. Tomorrow morning, she would spell out to them, in no uncertain terms, that her only goal was to make this Value Lodge a better place for everyone—but particularly for the guests, since that was her job. She would be positive at the meeting, and she would tell them that she hoped they were fully on board with her, but if they were not, she would tell them to start looking for new jobs.

Thinking of new jobs made her check her iPhone to see if Marley had gotten back to her yet. Other than confirming that she'd received the résumé, she had no other news. Really, was it realistic to think that a busy New York real estate mogul, property developer, and hotel owner would drop everything in order to respond to the manager of the Value Lodge in a town the size of Springville? Probably not.
Chances were he hadn't even gotten her résumé yet. As Anna set the employees' letters in their message boxes, she wondered just how close Marley's brother Max really was with the Newmans. Just because Max and Elsie rented shop space did not mean they were chummy. It was possible that Marley had overblown this whole thing.

In fact, as Anna walked home, she began to think that was probably what had happened. Marley had always been a somewhat dramatic person. Certainly she had enjoyed telling Anna all about the building restoration and the boutique hotel. What if she'd simply been telling this story for its pure entertainment value? As Anna approached Lou's Café, she considered popping in to ask Marley about this, but remembering it was the dinner hour and seeing that all their tables were filled and customers were waiting at the counter, Anna decided to wait.

Her grandmother's apartment building came into view. It was really a rather inviting complex with its butter-colored stucco walls, ornate iron railings up the staircases and around the balconies, and nicely landscaped grounds that were maintained by the management.

Anna had been alarmed when she'd first learned that her grandma had sold her home—largely to help cover Anna's college expenses. By now, though, she knew that her grandma had gotten quite comfortable in her new lifestyle. If only she could be comfortable with the idea of letting Anna go.

As Anna walked toward the entrance of the first-floor apartment, she was already rehearsing the speech she planned to give her grandma. She would simply be honest. She would confess how unhappy she'd been at the Value Lodge—something Anna had never felt free to do before because her grandmother
was such good friends with the owners, Sharon and Rich. Grandma often acted as if Anna were lucky to have employment at all and owed the Morgans a boatload of gratitude for giving her such an important job. Her grandmother had no idea what it was truly like to work at the Value Lodge. But somehow Anna had to tell her the truth, and she had to do it in a way that wouldn't make her grandmother think less of her good friends. That would not be easy.