“And even if helets us keep the reservation, he’ll probably charge for seven people anyway. Youknow what these island restaurants are like.”
“I’ll pay youback.”
“You bet youwill. I know Caleb will probably let you off the hook for the flight and thehotel room, but I expect you to pay back the hundred and twenty seven dollarsBruce and I are shelling out for your plate,” Jill said, referring to herhusband.
“Onehundred and twenty seven dollars?” Tim spun around and faced his sister. “That’sjust for my meal? Do the lobster and shrimp do a ballroom dance before you eatthem?”
“For yourinformation, the Platinum Grill is the best restaurant on Cedros.That’s what Mom and Dad deserve on their anniversary—the best.”
“There’s adifference between giving our parents the best and getting fleeced by a placethat takes advantage of sucker tourists.”
Jill’s cheeksturned bright pink, and Tim braced himself to hear her blast him for beingungrateful and inconsiderate. But before that could happen, the door to theirparents’ bedroom opened, and Margaret and Calvin McInernyentered the common area with knowing looks on their faces.
“Jill, are youstill worrying Tim about the dinner reservations?” A brief look of annoyancecrossed over Margaret’s patrician face. “I’m sure that whatever’s come up isunavoidable.”
Calvin alsofrowned, but it was directed at Tim. “Are you sure you can’t reschedule? Itwould probably save us all a lot of grief if you could.”
“Dad, trust me,if I could, I would. I didn’t set the time, and this interview is one where I’mnot in a position to make a lot of demands.”
Calvin looked atJill and shrugged. “If he says he can’t, then he can’t. Now let’s drop it andenjoy our evening.”
The curt lookJill shot him told Tim the issue wasn’t dropped as far as she was concerned. Hedecided to make his getaway before she could go at him again—or worse, have Caleb arrive and both his siblings do a double guilttrip on him.
He kissed hismother on the cheek. “Have a terrific time. Be sure to let me know whether thelobster and shrimp perform the waltz or the tango.”
“Maybe we’ll getlucky and they’ll do a mambo.” Margaret’s eyes twinkled as she squeezed hisforearm. “Good luck with your interview. I’m sure you’ll get the informationyou want.”
His mother’sconfidence buoyed Tim and helped ease the doubts that had started to plaguehim. He left the suite and rode the elevator to the main lobby. Afterconsulting a poster of the hotel’s layout, he realized he would need to crossthe courtyard before he reached the vicinity of room 832.
A light breezedid little to break up the night’s humidity, causing Tim to feel as wilted assome of the tropical plants interspersed with the palm trees in the courtyard. Hetook little notice of the art deco sculptures or the marble fountain while hehurried to once again retreat into an air-conditioned building.
After gratefullyleaving the mugginess behind him, Tim self-consciously reached inside hisjacket, relieved to find his pad and pen there. Stop being OCD, he scolded himself. You’re on the brink of conducting the mostimportant interview of your career, so far. This is not the time to turn into aneurotic mess.
Despite thewarning, he couldn’t help but slide a hand inside his jacket pocket to reassurehimself that the tape recorder was still there. He hoped Connor would consentto its use, because Tim would be the first to admit his note-taking skills werenot the greatest. For an interview of this magnitude, he did not want to miss asingle word.
Tim started topush the up arrow on the elevator, but it suddenly occurred to him that hedidn’t know Connor’s floor or room. “This is an auspicious start,” he mumbled.
“May I help you,sir?” Startled, Tim jumped back to find a petite blonde in the hotel’s apricot-and-turquoiseuniform standing beside him. In a polite tone, she repeated, “May I help you?”
“Uh,yes.I’m, uh, supposed to meet someone….” For a moment Tim blanked and couldn’tremember who he was meeting, but he quickly recovered. “ConnorAlbright. I have an appointment to see Connor Albright, but I don’t knowhis room number.” Skepticism crossed the woman’s face, so Tim hurried to add,“I’m a reporter, I met Connor Albright earlier today and he told me to comehere tonight at eight.”
The desperationin his tone must have convinced her, because she said, “Please excuse me whileI go and confirm the guest is expecting you.”
“Thanks.” Timgave her a weak smile before she walked over to a discreet check-in desk in thecorner of the lobby. He said a silent prayer that Connor hadn’t had a change ofheart and left him in the lurch. Relief flooded him when the blonde returnedwith a small smile on her face.
“I apologize forthe delay. Mr. Albright is indeed expecting you.” She pressed the up arrow and thesteel doors promptly opened. But she surprised him by entering the elevator andpressing a PIN code into a keypad above the buttons with the floor numbers onthem. “Access to the eighth floor requires a separate PIN,” she explained.
Tim wondered ifConnor set this all up on purpose, perhaps hoping he’d get so fed up, he’dcancel the interview. Too bad, buddy, I’mfollowing through on this.
“What about whenI get to the eighth floor? Will I need a PIN there too?” Tim asked, barelykeeping the sarcasm out of his voice.
The woman shookher head. “The elevator opens directly in front of Mr. Albright’s suite.”
Even after thewoman stepped out and the elevator doors closed, Tim wasn’t totally convinced.But sure enough, seconds later, he stepped into a marble foyer that contained awooden chair, a gilded mirror, and a door with an 8 labeled in chrome.
Before he could knock,Connor opened the door with an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry,I forgot to tell you how to get up here. I swear I wasn’t trying to be anasshole, it really did slip my mind.”
“No problem. I’dhave only thought you were an asshole if you’d told the nice lady downstairs tokick me out.”
Connor laughedas Tim followed him inside. “That’s a coward’s move, not an asshole’s. I’ll behonest, I’m not happy about doing this interview. But I told you I’d do it, andI intend to keep my word.”
“Glad to
