A Holiday Romance. Carrie Alexander

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ladder. He was weeks away from a promotion that was a rare achievement for a man of thirty-six. Why should he have misgivings now?

      Because he’d rather be respected by his staff than beloved?

      Or was it because Lani had called him lonesome?

      Or because Gavin had both a successful career and an adoring wife?

      Kyle scanned the luxurious lobby. A reassuring sight. The lights of the stately yet rustic chandeliers cast a glow over ocher stucco walls. Tall palm fronds softened the empty corners. Guests moved about leisurely, most of them on their way to one of the lounges or restaurants. The bustle of white-jacketed employees was constant but discreet, as was the subtle infusion of music from a harpist and piano player on one of the overhanging balconies.

      Only one woman seemed out of place—a rather plain brunette, unobtrusive except for a brightly colored outfit that shouted its newness. She was noticeable because she stood alone at the entrance, rubbing her hands on her skirt while she gawked at the teak front desk and the potted orange trees and the skylights that opened the lobby to the lavender-tinged sky.

      An employee from the hospitality staff gestured to the solitary woman. They walked to the restaurant entrance, holding an animated conversation as if they were old friends.

      Satisfied that his employee was doing her job, Kyle erased the new guest from his mind and went to make change at the desk. He wished that all the day’s distractions were as easily forgotten.

       CHAPTER TWO

       “I S IT JUST my imagination, or is almost everyone here kind of old?” Alice asked as she and Chloe walked toward the entrance of the restaurant. The hospitality director had explained that while there were several fine dining spots at the resort, the Oasis de la Luna was the best.

      “The guests, that is,” Alice corrected herself. “Not the staff.”

      Chloe chuckled. “I suppose you’re right. We do cater to an upscale older crowd. Not quite as much during the off-season, however. This is discount time, when we get more families on tight budgets. But there are always plenty of retirees who stick around, too.”

      “Especially at the condos.” Alice hesitated. “I noticed when I arrived that the other residents were mostly senior citizens. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that. I was just hoping for a diverse crowd.” Pah! She was hoping for young single men.

      “Of course you’re right,” Chloe said breezily. “A number of the condos are owned by year-round senior residents. The snowbirds with two homes are the ones who move down in the winter and fly back north for the summer.”

      “They seemed friendly.” Except for one old lady who’d been scooting along the sidewalk on a Segway. She’d almost run Alice over.

      “Very friendly, some of them. Watch out or they’ll adopt you.”

      Alice nodded. While following a porter through the Spanish-style condominium village when she’d first arrived, she’d been waved at and helloed to by the poolside loungers. They’d called her over to join them, but she’d only waved back. After her long trip, she’d been eager to get out of the stifling heat and unpack.

      “Thanks for the warning,” she said. “I don’t want to spend my entire vacation playing canasta and taking naps.” She’d had enough experience with that pace of life to keep her until she was eighty.

      “The condo gangs seem to be into poker these days. And you might be surprised. Some of them are quite lively.”

      “Oh, I’m sure they are. I didn’t mean to stereotype, it’s just that…” Alice broke off; she didn’t want to delve too deeply into her close acquaintance with the gray-haired set on Osprey Island. “I was hoping for more action. My mother and her friends, um…”

      They had reached the entrance and were waiting for the maître d’ to return. Chloe looked at Alice. “Yes?”

      Emotion had clotted in her throat. “You see, I was caring for my sick mother for a long time, and my life got to revolve around hers. Four months ago, she passed on. So, basically, I’m at loose ends. This trip is a new start for me.”

      Chloe was sympathetic. “I hear you. You’re turning a fresh page. You want something different. Not the over-sixties crowd from the condos.”

      “Yes,” Alice said gratefully.

      “No problem! I’ll see to it that you have an especially exciting stay.” The dimples reappeared in Chloe’s small round face, one high on her cheek, two others framing her rosebud mouth. “I’ve got all sorts of ideas for activities galore.”

      “Keep them within reason.” Alice couldn’t prevent a note of caution from creeping into her voice. “I talk a good game, but I’m not sure how daring I’ll actually be.”

      “Naturally, the safety and comfort of our guests are our primary concerns,” Chloe said, but then she added, almost to herself, “Hmm, what about Camelback? And rock climbing…”

       Oh, dear. “Right now, I’d settle for dinner. It’s been a long day.”

      “Of course.” Chloe waved impatiently for the maître d’ while surveying the busy dining room. “I’ll get you a good table. Would you prefer the patio?”

      “Anything will do,” Alice said. The clink of silverware, the murmur of conversation and soft harp music were inviting. She watched a handsome, suntanned couple lean close over the flicker of a tea light and wished she wasn’t alone.

       Never mind. Make the best of it.

      “Even by the kitchen,” she added.

      “ Pfft. You deserve better than that.”

       I do, Alice silently agreed. She’d spoken out of habit. Like most Osprey Islanders, she was accustomed to humility. Ostentation was not appreciated there.

      While Chloe conferred with the maître d’, Alice gazed at the elegant dining room. The rustic stone, wood and stucco of the lobby gave way to a more refined Spanish design with arches, glass lanterns and wrought-iron sconces. White linen and exotic birds of paradise dressed the tables.

      Alice smoothed her skirt. It was a style she’d never worn before, striped like a flag in fiesta colors that suddenly seemed too garish and common. When she’d bought it, she’d imagined herself sipping sangria under an umbrella on a sunny patio, not sticking out like a cheap piñata at an exquisite soirée.

      “All righty,” Chloe said. “You’ve got a table by the window, but it won’t be ready for another ten or fifteen minutes. I’d love to take you for a drink in the Manzanita Lounge. It’s right through here.”

      “You don’t have to stick with me.” Alice lowered her eyes so that the other woman wouldn’t see how much she really didn’t want to be on her own tonight. “I’m sure you have other guests to attend to.”

      “I can spare ten minutes.” Chloe looped a hand around Alice’s elbow. “In fact, you’d be doing me a favor. The new night concierge is a taskmaster. I don’t get to mingle with guests very often since he came on the job.”

      “Well,

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