“You think this Jenay Franklin is another don’t tell, quiet one like Abigail?” Beatrice asked.
“I’ll know when I see her. He has a particular type.”
“You, in other words,” Beatrice said.
“There you go,” Paige said with a finger point and a smile, although, deep down, it was hardly funny.
Jericho City Limits.
Jenay’s heart was racing as she drove into Charlie’s hometown for the very first time. Although the sign said City Limits, it looked more like the countryside. Rolling hills of grain. Windmills. Farms. Lots of jagged, rocky coastline. It was beautiful. She was digging on the sense of peace, and tranquility. She felt as if she could really love it here.
Until she drove five miles further, and arrived in the heart of downtown.
It was still a beautiful place, filled with beautiful Tudor-style buildings and brick-lined streets. But the townspeople gave her the kind of stares that nobody would want. Not that they were angry stares, or repulsive in any way. But they were plentiful. Everybody, it seemed, was watching her as she drove through town.
She knew some of the stares had to do with the fact that she was driving Charlie’s car, but everybody in the town couldn’t automatically see a black Jaguar and figure it had to belong to Charles Sinatra. Or could they? Charlie owned so many businesses, and so much land, and the town wasn’t a big city by any barometer. It would still be saying a lot for all of the people she passed to know one man’s car, but maybe not. And then again, she thought, maybe it was more her they were staring at, than the car. She’d never lived in a small town in her life. She wouldn’t begin to know the dynamics.
The GPS system inside the Jaguar gave her turn-by-turn navigation that took her right where she was going. She, thankfully, didn’t have to ask any of those busybody town folk for directions of any kind.
And then she was there.
There it is, she thought, as she drove up the long driveway that lead to the hotel’s main entrance. Jericho Inn, it said on the large stone at the entrance. Although the name left a lot to be desired, the look was magnificent. It was an old-styled bed and breakfast that had the look and feel of a grand old elegant mansion. She was surprised. She had tried to check it out on the internet, but discovered that Charles hadn’t gotten around to investing in a website yet. It was still that new to him. But no website? For a business? She knew the place needed help. But she thought it would be just like, well, just like helping out a Motel 6. But it was nothing like she expected. It was actually a very beautiful, upscale hotel with a resort look and feel to it. But that didn’t make Jenay feel any better. Just looking at the place made her feel overwhelmed; as if it was way too much. How could she, a woman with very little practical experience, run a place this vast?
But she’d already accepted the position, Charles was in New York, there was no turning back.
Besides, what was she going to turn back to? New Mexico? Capani’s? She grabbed her Gucci bag, removed her sunglasses, and stepped out of the car.
Inside, Beatrice and Paige were standing behind the front desk watching as the small, shapely black woman stepped out of a car that looked remarkably like Charles’s.
“That’s her?” Paige asked. She was astonished. “That can’t be her!”
“And it looks like his car, Paige,” Beatrice said. “It has to be her.”
“Charles is a lot of insufferable things,” Paige said. “He does things differently just for the hell of it most of the times. But there is no way you can convince me that he would be so reckless as to turn his business, a business like this, over to somebody like her!”
“Yes,” Beatrice said, staring at Jenay too. “She is gorgeous, isn’t she?”
Paige looked at Beatrice. What did that woman’s looks have to do with what she was saying, she wondered?
But Beatrice knew exactly what it had to do with what she was saying. Beatrice was worried about this woman taking her job. Paige was worried about this woman taking her man. A man, Beatrice and everybody else in town already knew, she never had to begin with. Abigail Ridge was Paige’s competition, Beatrice thought. Not this exotic piece of meat they had on their hands right here.
But as Jenay walked into the majestic lobby of the Jericho Inn, a lobby with a massive crystal chandelier hanging from the rafters of its cathedral ceilings, and the dual staircases sweeping down on either side, and remarkable artwork donning the walls, she was too busy admiring the grandeur of the place rather than the look on the faces of two older women. Because it was all so daunting. She was astounded that Charles would believe she could run all of this. She was pleased that he would give her this chance, and was inwardly excited by the prospect. But she was awestruck too.