ridiculous corner cutting has to stop," Ric was saying emphatically. "Our guests shouldn't have to tote little cards around just to get towels at the beach and pool. It's an absolutely tacky policy, and it's ending as of today, is that clear?"
"But a lot of the other hotels on the island have that same policy," Deb protested plaintively. "It's only practical. You just can't let people take towels, then return them whenever they please. God only knows how many won't ever be brought back. I think you're making too much of this. The other hotels—"
"I don't care about the other hotels. Shannon House is different! We're not going to harass our guests with silly rules and regulations about towels. If we lose a few, I'm sure we can absorb the cost, and that's my final word on that subject. Now, about the beach bus. As I said last night, it will start running regularly. Understood?"
"But, Ric, I…"
Standing at the front desk, Allendre pretended not to overhear the discussion going on in the office while Loretta turned to discreetly close the partially opened door.
"You're going to the beach, miss?" Loretta asked politely, coming back to take the room key Allendre handed her. "If you wouldn't mind waiting about five minutes, I'm sure the beach bus will be making a run."
Smiling at the clerk's newfound efficiency, Allendre shook her head. "Thanks, anyway, but I don't really mind the walk down so much. I have to admit, though, I wouldn't mind riding the bus back up. Those stairs are murder."
"They
are
steep, miss," Loretta agreed. "But the beach is so nice. By the way, they say the water's even clearer than usual today."
"Then I'd better get down there. I've been meaning to go snorkeling, and it sounds as if this would be the perfect day for it."
"Have a nice swim," Loretta called as Allendre walked away.
Walking down the steeply graded road to the beach two minutes later, thinking about the hotel's problems, as usual, Allendre decided that Loretta might do a better job of managing Shannon House than Deb had done thus far. At least the younger woman had the graciously pleasing personality needed to deal with the public, while Deb was too wrapped up in finding ways to increase the total in the profit column. She seemed to assume that guests would tolerate a few irritating policies simply because other hotels practiced them, too. And Ric obviously wasn't making much progress in convincing her that Shannon House had a reputation for being different, that a great deal of the hotel's appeal had always been its dignified atmosphere and tasteful coddling of the guests. Once it became like many of the other island hotels, there would be no real reason for people to want to stay there. That assumption seemed logical enough to Allendre; she couldn't understand why the older girl didn't see it, especially since her uncle had never compromised service in order to make a higher profit. Perhaps he would be well enough soon to come back and take charge again.
Allendre knew Ric must be hoping he would, because until that time it seemed fairly obvious that he himself would need to constantly look over Deb's shoulder so she couldn't damage Shannon House's reputation any more than she already had.
Slipping off her sandals, Allendre padded across the warm, powder-fine sand on the beach, seeking as usual a fairly out-of-the-way spot to spread her towel. She found one near the still sturdy wall of what had once been a cannon rampart and settled herself with a rather dejected little sigh. Her job here was nearly finished; she had no doubts that Ric would raise the hotel's standard of service back up to its former superior level. She would be able to explain that to Mr. Meredith and recommend that he still rate Shannon House as super deluxe. That meant there was only one question left unanswered. Was there any truth in the allegations that Shannon House sometimes overcharged guests when they checked out? Somehow, she had to discover whether those
"But a lot of the other hotels on the island have that same policy," Deb protested plaintively. "It's only practical. You just can't let people take towels, then return them whenever they please. God only knows how many won't ever be brought back. I think you're making too much of this. The other hotels—"
"I don't care about the other hotels. Shannon House is different! We're not going to harass our guests with silly rules and regulations about towels. If we lose a few, I'm sure we can absorb the cost, and that's my final word on that subject. Now, about the beach bus. As I said last night, it will start running regularly. Understood?"
"But, Ric, I…"
Standing at the front desk, Allendre pretended not to overhear the discussion going on in the office while Loretta turned to discreetly close the partially opened door.
"You're going to the beach, miss?" Loretta asked politely, coming back to take the room key Allendre handed her. "If you wouldn't mind waiting about five minutes, I'm sure the beach bus will be making a run."
Smiling at the clerk's newfound efficiency, Allendre shook her head. "Thanks, anyway, but I don't really mind the walk down so much. I have to admit, though, I wouldn't mind riding the bus back up. Those stairs are murder."
"They
are
steep, miss," Loretta agreed. "But the beach is so nice. By the way, they say the water's even clearer than usual today."
"Then I'd better get down there. I've been meaning to go snorkeling, and it sounds as if this would be the perfect day for it."
"Have a nice swim," Loretta called as Allendre walked away.
Walking down the steeply graded road to the beach two minutes later, thinking about the hotel's problems, as usual, Allendre decided that Loretta might do a better job of managing Shannon House than Deb had done thus far. At least the younger woman had the graciously pleasing personality needed to deal with the public, while Deb was too wrapped up in finding ways to increase the total in the profit column. She seemed to assume that guests would tolerate a few irritating policies simply because other hotels practiced them, too. And Ric obviously wasn't making much progress in convincing her that Shannon House had a reputation for being different, that a great deal of the hotel's appeal had always been its dignified atmosphere and tasteful coddling of the guests. Once it became like many of the other island hotels, there would be no real reason for people to want to stay there. That assumption seemed logical enough to Allendre; she couldn't understand why the older girl didn't see it, especially since her uncle had never compromised service in order to make a higher profit. Perhaps he would be well enough soon to come back and take charge again.
Allendre knew Ric must be hoping he would, because until that time it seemed fairly obvious that he himself would need to constantly look over Deb's shoulder so she couldn't damage Shannon House's reputation any more than she already had.
Slipping off her sandals, Allendre padded across the warm, powder-fine sand on the beach, seeking as usual a fairly out-of-the-way spot to spread her towel. She found one near the still sturdy wall of what had once been a cannon rampart and settled herself with a rather dejected little sigh. Her job here was nearly finished; she had no doubts that Ric would raise the hotel's standard of service back up to its former superior level. She would be able to explain that to Mr. Meredith and recommend that he still rate Shannon House as super deluxe. That meant there was only one question left unanswered. Was there any truth in the allegations that Shannon House sometimes overcharged guests when they checked out? Somehow, she had to discover whether those
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