Moonlight Cove

“Who’s working out front?”

“Ronnie’s got it.”

Gail regarded her with surprise. “Boy, you must be anxious to get out of here. I thought you didn’t trust Ronnie to handle the desk.”

Ronnie Forrest was in his early twenties, but he had the maturity of a preteen. His father, a friend of Mick’s, had despaired of Ronnie ever getting a responsible job and holding on to it. Jess had been willing to take a chance on him, but so far the only task he handled without bungling was carrying bags for the guests. More often than not, he could be found in the main lounge watching TV, rather than doing any of the other chores assigned to him.

As frustrating as his malingering was, on some level Jess could identify with him. She’d wondered more than once if he didn’t have an undiagnosed case of the same ADD that had plagued her life.

Jess beamed at Gail. “Which is why you’re going to supervise him while I’m gone. You’re much tougher than I am. Maybe you can get him to take this job seriously.”

Gail didn’t deny her toughness. However, with a lifted brow, she inquired, “And just how am I supposed to keep an eye on him from here in the kitchen?”

“Transfer the calls to your line, if you want to, and bring him in here and assign him to peel onions,” Jess suggested. “Maybe he’ll start to figure out that my threats to fire him if he doesn’t shape up aren’t idle ones.”

Gail regarded her with surprise. “You’ve actually told him his job’s on the line?”

Jess nodded. “Last week. I had no choice after three people complained that no one had answered when they called to make reservations and I found him watching reruns of Law and Order.”

“What’s your father going to say?”

“I’ll tell him if he wants to give the guy a break, then he should hire him,” Jess said. “It might be best all around. Dad doesn’t tolerate anyone who doesn’t pull their weight on a job. Maybe he’ll even tell Ronnie’s father to get him tested for ADD, which is what I suspect is going on.”

Gail studied her with surprise. “Seriously?”

Jess nodded.

“And that’s why you keep cutting him slack, despite the tough talk?”

“More than likely,” Jess conceded with a sigh. “Meantime, he’s all yours. I’ll send him in here on my way out.”

Of course, she didn’t find Ronnie in the lobby where he was supposed to be. Nor was he in the lounge. He was on the porch, an Orioles baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, sound asleep. The sight so ticked her off that she grabbed the back of the rocker in which he was seated and came close to upending him right off the porch and onto the lawn.

“What the…!” he muttered as he grabbed a post to keep himself from falling. He scowled at her. “Are you crazy?”

“Not half as crazy as you are, if you think this is an acceptable on-the-job performance,” she said, facing him down and suddenly realizing why Abby spent so much time annoyed with her.

“Did you not understand it when I told you last week that you were getting on my very last nerve?” she asked.

“Chill,” he said. “There’s nothing going on around here.”

“How could you possibly know that when the phone you’re supposed to be answering is inside? I’ve transferred the reservation line into the kitchen. Get in there and help Gail. If I don’t get a rave review from her when I get back, you’re fired. Is that clear enough?” This time, she simply had to stick to her guns. She wasn’t doing him any favors by letting him get away with this kind of lackadaisical behavior on the job.

He finally looked at least moderately shaken. “Come on, Jess.”

“That’s Ms. O’Brien to you,” she snapped.

He grinned as if she’d said something hysterically funny. “Come on, Ms. O’Brien, you know my old man’s going to have a conniption fit if I lose another job.”

“Then don’t lose it,” she said and walked away before she said a few more things about his work ethic that he probably wouldn’t understand anyway. If Devlin Forrest complained to Mick about Ronnie being fired, she’d deal with her father. Insolence and laziness were two traits Mick would never tolerate either. She was confident of that.

Concluding that she needed the fresh air and a long walk to improve her mood, she hiked the mile or so into town, then headed for the bank. At the front desk, she greeted Mariah, then nodded toward the executive offices.

“Is Laila back there? Is she free?”

Mariah nodded. “Go on back. Maybe a friendly face will improve her mood.”

“She’s having a bad day?”

“Days,” Mariah confided, “but don’t you dare tell her I said so.”

“Any idea why?”

“None.”

Jess walked back to the office that had once belonged to Trace before he’d convinced his father that Laila was the one who belonged in it. Trace had done nothing during his brief stint there to make it his own, but Laila had painted the walls a warmer shade of cream, then added bright splashes of modern art to the walls. The paintings had horrified her father, who thought they weren’t nearly sedate enough for a community bank, but Laila had stuck to her guns. It was the most cheerful room in an otherwise dreary old building.

Laila, however, looked anything but cheerful, at least until she looked up and saw Jess standing hesitantly in the doorway.

“I hear the mood is dark back here,” Jess said. “Is it safe to come in?”

Laila smiled wearily. “Come on in. I promise not to bite your head off.”

Jess took a seat and studied her friend. “You look worn out. What’s going on?”

“I’m trying to figure out how to keep some of our oldest customers from losing their homes to foreclosure,” Laila said. “I thought the economy was turning around, but we’ve still got people around here who are struggling. The board doesn’t want to hear their excuses. I’m arguing for compassion and a little ingenuity. I’m afraid I’m going to lose the battle.”

“I’m sorry. Having been on the other side of a foreclosure notice, I know how awful that is. If it hadn’t been for Abby coming down here to fight for me and straighten out the inn’s finances, who knows what would have happened?”

“But it worked out for you,” Laila said. “The bank knew you were good for the loan, just like I know these people will make good on theirs if we can just cut them a little slack. Putting families out on the street should be a last resort.” She waved off the topic. “Let’s talk about something else. Do you have time for lunch? It’s been ages since we’ve talked.”

Jess grinned, relieved that the tension she’d been feeling had evaporated once she was actually in a room with her friend. “I was hoping you’d suggest that. Shall we have Connie meet us?”

“Absolutely,” Laila said, placing the call and getting Connie’s immediate agreement to meet them at a new soup and salad restaurant that had opened a few weeks earlier. When she’d hung up, she said, “I would have suggested Sally’s, but Will’s bound to be there, so I figured you’d rather go someplace else.”

“That’s why you’re my friend,” Jess said. “You know me so well. I do want to hear about your date with him, though.”

Laila regarded her doubtfully. “Really? I thought maybe that was why you weren’t taking my calls.”

Jess winced. She should have known Laila would recognize exactly what she’d been thinking. “It was,” she admitted, “but I was being stupid. I want to know everything.”

“And I want to hear about Connie’s date in Annapolis the other day,” Laila said, as she grabbed her purse and they left for the restaurant. “She mentioned he was an accountant. I could have warned her about that. We’re not that interesting, but I didn’t want to scare her off.”

Jess laughed. “I can’t speak for all accountants, but you are the least boring person I know,” she told her. “Maybe she got lucky.”

A few minutes later, though, when they were all seated at an outdoor table facing the bay, Connie squirmed when Laila brought up her date.

Laila regarded her knowingly. “It was a bust, right?”