your brother and I had better keep out of the minibar,” Molly said coolly. If Elaine McKee Culpepper Von Reinholz Newberg thought that she could intimidate a member of the Belden College faculty, then she was in for a shock. The woman might have perfect nails and a two-hundred-dollar haircut, but she had certainly never read Plutarch.
Molly frowned. Something that Elaine had said, just a few moments ago, was nagging at her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it now. It had seized her attention like a bee sting, but the conversation had quickly moved on, distracting her with talk of princesses and Sotheby's, and loans to Carter…
“Wait a minute!” she exclaimed, alarmed. Now she remembered. “Did you just say something about a week for
three
at Gold Bay?”
Elaine's matte-red lips curved into a delighted smile. “Yes, indeed,” she said. “You don't think that you can do this alone, do you? I'm going with you.”
Judging from Carter's expression, Molly guessed that this was news to him, as well.
“Ahh,” Carter said. His face had turned an odd shade of gray. “Elaine, that's very nice of you, but we had talked about you giving Molly just a couple of quick lessons, remember? The short course?”
Elaine shook her head. “The short course,” she said, sliding a meaningful look in Molly's direction, “will not be long enough.”
“Won't Mr. Newberg miss you?” Molly asked, doubting it. So far, there had been no sign of anyone who answered to that name.
“Leonard and I separated six weeks ago,” Elaine said. “He is currently in Bermuda, visiting his offshore corporation. I don't expect a reconciliation. Not before Christmas, at least.”
“Oh,” Carter said. “I'm sorry to hear that.” “Yes, thank you, it's very sad,” Elaine said briskly. “But life goes on, and I hate spending the holidays alone.”
CHAPTER 5
T he Gold Bay beach was half a mile long, curved in a crescent-moon shape that hugged the blue water and gentle waves of the bay. At eight A.M. it was still deserted save for a few dedicated joggers, and Jake, who was taking his morning reconnaissance walk.
Behind the beach was a lush garden of palms and flowering vines, and tucked into this water-hungry landscaping was a row of thirty cottages, strung like pearls around the neck of the resort. They were the best suites at Gold Bay, each with two bedrooms, a living room, a caterer's kitchen for private parties, and a large deck overlooking the sand. The trees and vines had been carefully arranged to give the occupants of each cottage the feeling that they had no neighbors, but to allow them an unobstructed view of the ocean and the action on the beach.
Room service to the cottages came by way of an electric golf cart equipped with coolers and warming trays. There was a complimentary morning delivery of fresh juice, pastries, coffee, and the morning paper from the guest's home city, all of which would appear at a time previously arranged with the cottage's private butler. Breakfast was rarely requested before eight, but Jake noticed that a cart was arriving at Cottage Five, and wondered who the early bird was. A yoga-obsessed supermodel, perhaps. Ingrid Anderson, a Victoria's Secret catalog veteran, had arrived three days ago with a bald man in flowing white robes who had signed the register as Rama Guru. For the past two mornings at nine A.M. , Rama and Ingrid, both wearing thong bathing suits, had done the Sun Salutation on the pool terrace, to the awe and delight of the rest of the guests.
Jake strolled up the beach, a little closer to the cottage, looking curiously to see if Ingrid and Rama were there. But he saw only a smallish mousy-haired woman sitting in a chair on the deck, wrapped in one of the thick white terry-cloth Gold Bay bathrobes. The bulky robe was too big for her, and made her look as if she were being eaten by a polar bear. He nodded to her, in casual greeting, and was startled to see her eyes widen as if he
Molly frowned. Something that Elaine had said, just a few moments ago, was nagging at her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it now. It had seized her attention like a bee sting, but the conversation had quickly moved on, distracting her with talk of princesses and Sotheby's, and loans to Carter…
“Wait a minute!” she exclaimed, alarmed. Now she remembered. “Did you just say something about a week for
three
at Gold Bay?”
Elaine's matte-red lips curved into a delighted smile. “Yes, indeed,” she said. “You don't think that you can do this alone, do you? I'm going with you.”
Judging from Carter's expression, Molly guessed that this was news to him, as well.
“Ahh,” Carter said. His face had turned an odd shade of gray. “Elaine, that's very nice of you, but we had talked about you giving Molly just a couple of quick lessons, remember? The short course?”
Elaine shook her head. “The short course,” she said, sliding a meaningful look in Molly's direction, “will not be long enough.”
“Won't Mr. Newberg miss you?” Molly asked, doubting it. So far, there had been no sign of anyone who answered to that name.
“Leonard and I separated six weeks ago,” Elaine said. “He is currently in Bermuda, visiting his offshore corporation. I don't expect a reconciliation. Not before Christmas, at least.”
“Oh,” Carter said. “I'm sorry to hear that.” “Yes, thank you, it's very sad,” Elaine said briskly. “But life goes on, and I hate spending the holidays alone.”
CHAPTER 5
T he Gold Bay beach was half a mile long, curved in a crescent-moon shape that hugged the blue water and gentle waves of the bay. At eight A.M. it was still deserted save for a few dedicated joggers, and Jake, who was taking his morning reconnaissance walk.
Behind the beach was a lush garden of palms and flowering vines, and tucked into this water-hungry landscaping was a row of thirty cottages, strung like pearls around the neck of the resort. They were the best suites at Gold Bay, each with two bedrooms, a living room, a caterer's kitchen for private parties, and a large deck overlooking the sand. The trees and vines had been carefully arranged to give the occupants of each cottage the feeling that they had no neighbors, but to allow them an unobstructed view of the ocean and the action on the beach.
Room service to the cottages came by way of an electric golf cart equipped with coolers and warming trays. There was a complimentary morning delivery of fresh juice, pastries, coffee, and the morning paper from the guest's home city, all of which would appear at a time previously arranged with the cottage's private butler. Breakfast was rarely requested before eight, but Jake noticed that a cart was arriving at Cottage Five, and wondered who the early bird was. A yoga-obsessed supermodel, perhaps. Ingrid Anderson, a Victoria's Secret catalog veteran, had arrived three days ago with a bald man in flowing white robes who had signed the register as Rama Guru. For the past two mornings at nine A.M. , Rama and Ingrid, both wearing thong bathing suits, had done the Sun Salutation on the pool terrace, to the awe and delight of the rest of the guests.
Jake strolled up the beach, a little closer to the cottage, looking curiously to see if Ingrid and Rama were there. But he saw only a smallish mousy-haired woman sitting in a chair on the deck, wrapped in one of the thick white terry-cloth Gold Bay bathrobes. The bulky robe was too big for her, and made her look as if she were being eaten by a polar bear. He nodded to her, in casual greeting, and was startled to see her eyes widen as if he
Similar Books
Lucy and the Valentine Verdict
Rae Davies
Kingdom Lost
Patricia Wentworth
The Chocolate Touch
Laura Florand
The Beloved Woman
Deborah Smith
Moth to a Flame
Ashley Antoinette
With a Twist
Heather Peters
Bloodlust
Helen Harper
Quick, Amanda
Dangerous