Garden of the Moongate (19 page)

"Well, if you young ladies will excuse me, I think I'll go to the cottage and dress for dinner," Ric announced, rising to his feet with graceful ease. "Deb, I would like to see you here about eight-thirty. Try to be prompt."

"Why do you want to see me?" she asked defensively, her lips pressing firmly together. "What have I done now?"

"Nothing. I'd just like to talk to you," he answered as he went to open the door. Then he nodded at Allendre. "I'll call you later."

An ominous silence filled the room after he had gone, and Allendre hastily opened a desk drawer to remove her purse. Judging by the way Deb was glaring a hole through her, she thought it would be wise to make a speedy departure.

She wasn't allowed to, however. When she took her first step around the desk, Deb moved to block her way. "You're not much of a listener, are you?" she asked hatefully. "Didn't you believe me when I told you you'd be making a mistake to get involved in a holiday romance with Ric? Surely you don't think he's really serious about you? I told you he's had holiday romances every summer he's been here since he was seventeen. So I hope you're not stupid enough to think you mean any more to him than any of those other girls did. You're just a temporary diversion, and that's all you are."

"But I'm not on holiday anymore," Allendre reminded her calmly. "Remember, I work here now."

"I'm well aware of that!" Deb snapped. Her sparkling diamond stud earrings couldn't match the angry gleam that flared in her eyes. "But don't think you'll keep
my
job long, because you won't! When Ric gets tired of you—and he will soon—I'll be the day manager here again and you'll be packing your bags and heading for home."

"You have a right to your opinion," Allendre murmured. "But I don't happen to agree with you."

Deb laughed viciously. "Well, you'd better. You don't know Ric, but
I
do, and someday he'll realize I'll always know him better than anyone else. That's important to a man, knowing he's understood. And don't think that just because Ric's physically involved with you he's not involved with me anymore. He is! He knows I'll wait out all his one-night stands and be right here when he comes back. And he always comes back."

"I see no point in discussing this," Allendre said, somewhat embarrassed by the older girl's virulent outburst. "So if you'll excuse me…"

"The truth hurts, doesn't it, honey?" Deb taunted, moving aside to let Allendre pass. "But let me tell you just one more thing so you'll really understand the situation—I'll marry Ric someday. I know that for a fact. He loves me, and when he's finished sowing his wild oats, I'll be waiting for him. Men tend to marry girls they've known all their lives. Did you know that is a proven fact?"

"I must have missed that particular survey," Allendre answered, placing her hand on the doorknob as she glanced back at Deb's anger-flushed face. This scene was becoming increasingly distasteful, and she wasn't about to argue about Ric as if she and Deb were two silly adolescents fighting over the high-school football star. After giving the older girl a nearly pitying smile, she opened the door and walked away.

Later that evening, after dinner, knowing that Deb was at her meeting with Ric, Allendre visited Lawrence Hopkins. He was such a pleasant, entertaining man and seemed so eager for company that she went to see him as often as she could. Since he knew all the ins and outs of the hotel business, she could ask his advice, and that obviously pleased him. She suspected he was feeling a bit useless with no real work to do, and she planned to ask Ric if he would be willing to let Lawrence work at least two or three hours a day at Shannon House. His counsel would take some of the burden of responsibility from Ric's shoulders, besides revitalizing Lawrence's own self-respect. He seemed well enough to work part time, and Allendre wondered rather uncharitably if Deb had insisted he stay home out of concern for his health or simply because she had enjoyed running the whole show herself.

After saying good night to him about nine o'clock, Allendre crossed the lawn to the staff apartments where she now stayed, pausing as she noticed Derek Harrison leaning against a lighted lamppost as he stared at Ric's house, a brooding expression on his face. Wandering over to him, she gave him a smile that faded when it wasn't returned. "Nice night, isn't it?" she commented conversationally. "Have you ever seen such a lovely full moon?"

"Hadn't noticed it. Sorry," he replied, his very British accent more clipped than usual. "And, personally, I can't see why you should think it's a nice night. We're both in the same boat, you know."

"Same boat?"

"They're together right now," he announced harshly, dropping his cigarette to the ground and twisting his heel down on it with unnecessary violence. "Your irresistible Patrick Shannon and my silly Deb."

"He's not
my
Patrick Shannon," Allendre protested. "Why did you say it that way?"

Derek laughed shortly, humorlessly. "You don't have to pretend with me. I know—everybody knows— you've fallen for the incomparable Patrick, just as all females do. What is it about him? Why do you all find him so attractive? Or is that an extremely stupid question? I expect it is. He's reasonably attractive, a real charmer, and of course the fact that he has tons of money doesn't hurt a bit, does it?"

Allendre turned away, but as she started to walk off, Derek caught her arm. "Sorry, love, that was a bit harsh, wasn't it? Just put it down to the fact that I'm in a devilishly bad mood."

"You're in love with Deb, I assume," Allendre said candidly. "And you think she's involved with Ric?"

"I don't think; I know," he muttered. "After all, she's told me so herself often enough."

"But…"

"We were going to be married three years ago, did you know that?" Derek interrupted sullenly. "We had even set the date. Then Shannon paid one of his imperial visits, got himself involved with Chantel Fucilla, and Deb decided she couldn't stand to see him with another woman. Said she was still in love with him, after all. She broke our engagement and tried to lure him away from Chantel. She didn't have much luck. Shannon broke off with Chantel, but not because he wanted Deb. He just went back to New York then. But Deb was obsessed with the idea of waiting for him until he realized she was his one true love."

His tone was so sarcastic that it prompted Allendre to murmur, "But you obviously don't think she is his one true love."

"Hmmph! Why should he tie himself down to one woman when all of them throw themselves at his feet?" Derek questioned resentfully. "Deb's just slipped back into adolescence, if you ask me. She always was infatuated with Shannon, with his entire family, actually. She wants to be one of them instead of just Debra Hopkins, niece of the manager. I think she's more in love with Shannon's position than she is with him."

Allendre had gotten that impression herself, so she could sympathize with Derek's frustration. "I suppose you've tried to talk to her about this?"

"I suppose I have. Repeatedly," he answered bitterly. "It's about as productive as talking to a stone. She won't listen. As I said, she's obsessed with becoming part of the Shannon family. So obsessed that she'd do anything for Patrick, even let him use her. Why else do you think they're together tonight?"

"Oh, but you're wrong if you think that they're… I mean, they're just at the office discussing July's financial report. That's all," Allendre explained hastily, touching his arm. "So you have nothing to worry about. As far as tonight's concerned, anyway."

"At the office, huh?" Derek snorted, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he jerked his head in the direction of Ric's house. "Discussing July's financial report? Come on, now, you seem like a sensible girl. Don't tell me you can be as unrealistic as Deb. If she and Shannon are discussing business, why did they have to go strolling arm in arm into his cottage to do it? Answer that one for me, would you?"

A sinking ache dragged at Allendre's stomach as she, too, stared at the gray stone house, ablaze with lights from all the downstairs windows. "Are… are you sure they're in there?" she asked weakly, dreading the answer. "Did you actually see them go in? I don't see how. After all, Deb's working tonight."

"So? She probably got Marie from the coffee shop to cover for her. She's done it before."

"But that doesn't mean—"

"Doesn't it?" Derek interrupted grimly. "Then what does it mean that I saw Shannon's bedroom light go on right after they went inside the house, then go off again almost immediately?"

Allendre gestured uncertainly. "It could mean Ric went up to get something from his room. It could mean…"

"You know bloody well what it means!" Derek muttered furiously. "I told you Deb's willing to do anything in the hope of snaring Shannon, and he's decided to take advantage of that. Again. This won't be the first night they've spent together."

"I think you're letting your imagination run away with you," Allendre said stiffly, turning away, unwilling to hear any more of his disturbing speculations. "Just because they're at Ric's house, you shouldn't jump to the conclusion that they… they've…"

"Gone to bed together?" he finished for her indelicately. "I think that's the only reasonable conclusion we can reach. And if you'd be honest with yourself, you'd admit it is. But you're obviously as besotted with the mighty Patrick Shannon as Deb is, God help you."

Allendre had had enough. Her voice choked on her words as she tried to bid him good night and she rushed away, wishing the smothering constriction in her chest would ease. Derek was simply violently jealous, she tried to tell herself, and he
was
jumping to ridiculous conclusions. Ric and Deb would not spend the night together. Allendre was certain they wouldn't. After all, he had promised to take
her
for a walk on the beach after his meeting with Deb.

Letting herself into her tiny efficiency apartment, Allendre switched on the light and went to sit down in the chair next to the phone. If only Ric would hurry and call and prove that Derek had been totally wrong… But though she sat there waiting for nearly three hours, the telephone never rang at all.

When Henry Watson, the head bellman, approached the desk late Wednesday afternoon, Allendre heaved a silent sigh. He looked as despondent and disillusioned as she felt, and she really wasn't up to facing yet another problem right now. She had spent last night tossing and turning in her bed, wondering if Ric hadn't called because Derek was right, that he actually was spending the night with Deb. It had been devastating to lie there, her mind awash with vivid, unbidden images of the two of them together. Consequently, when she had at last drifted off to sleep, she hadn't slept peacefully. And when she awoke, she felt none of her usual eager enthusiasm to begin a new day.

The hours since awakening hadn't done much to improve her attitude. Several guests had been cranky with her, but she had managed to respond to their rudeness calmly and gracefully, though she had found it difficult to do so. It wasn't like her to let her personal life interfere with her work; but then, she had never been in love before and so consumed by jealousy that she actually loathed another person the way she loathed Deb Hopkins today. Trying to put her personal problems aside, she gave Henry a wan smile.

"I got bad news, Miss Corey," he muttered before she could say anything. "Another one of my boys just quit."

"Another one!" Allendre cried in dismay. "But that makes…"

"Two this week. Yes, ma'am, I know." Henry shrugged, a frown adding more lines to his already etched face. "They both went to work for the Bridgemont Arms. That place is taking most of our good people right out from under our noses."

"I can't imagine why," Allendre said, massaging her temples in an effort to ease the ache that had begun to build there when she had skipped lunch today. "Shannon House is a much nicer place to work."

"Well, it used to be, anyway," Henry muttered, then seemed to wish he hadn't. Averting his eyes, he started to turn away but tensed when Allendre halted him by placing her hand on his arm. "I better get back to my post. I just wanted to tell you so you could hire two new bellmen."

"What's wrong, Henry?" Allendre asked gently. "You said Shannon House
used
to be a nicer place to work, obviously meaning you don't think it is now. Why isn't it?"

Henry lifted his shoulders evasively. "I guess I didn't really mean that."

"Yes, you did. Now, tell me why you don't think Shannon House is a nice place to work anymore."

"I don't want to say, miss," Henry answered stiffly. "It's not my place to tell the management how to run Shannon."

"But if something's wrong, I'd like to know what it is," she persisted. "And Mr. Shannon's noticed the low morale of the staff, so I'm certain he'd like to know what the trouble is, too."

"You sure of that, Miss Corey?" Henry muttered disbelievingly. "Or is Mr. Patrick more interested in seeing Shannon make lots of money for his daddy's corporation?"

"I'm sure he isn't! He cares about Shannon, believe me, and he cares about the staff. So, if you know why everybody seems so unhappy, please tell me, and I'll tell him."

"And I'll get fired," Henry mumbled unhappily. "I can't afford to lose my job here, miss, not after nearly forty years. I ain't in my prime no more, and I don't want to have to go around to the other hotels, begging for a job."

"But what makes you think you'd be fired?" Allendre exclaimed bewilderedly. "Ric wouldn't—"

"But Miss Hopkins would after he's gone back to New York," Henry whispered, glancing around to make certain he wasn't being overheard. "She don't appreciate it one little bit when anybody complains."

"All right, if I promise not to tell Ric where I got the information, will you tell me what's wrong here?" Allendre's slender fingers tightened around his arm. "Please. It's important."

"You promise?"

"Yes, yes, I promise; I really do."

"All right," Henry muttered reluctantly, glancing around again, a tense expression on his face. "Things have changed around here, miss, and I can't blame nobody for quitting. They can't be expected to stay here where they can't make no money."