really think so? I want to do everything right. I don’t want to screw anything up. He’s the one who trained me so I hope I’m doing well. Plus,” he added, almost apologetically, “this meeting is a chance to make a name for myself. It could help my career big-time.”
“You are, you are, Dave. You’re doing everything right. The place is spinning smooth like a gyroscope. The higher ups will notice you, for sure.” Dave was a little insecure but that was part of his aw, shucks charm. Underneath his insecurity was a man driven to achieve.
Dave had come to us from our Vermont property, Sapphire Stowe Mountain, where he had learned how to run a four-season resort and, so important to a great career in the industry, how to properly kowtow to monied and spoiled guests.
He and his wife, Margie, were a nice couple with two young children. We sometimes had dinner together at their cottage near the lake in Windermere, or they would come to our place for barbecue during low season.
Once in a while, when her kids were at school, Margie and I floated around Lake Butler for a few hours in her pontoon boat with sandwiches and iced tea.
“I saw the spread you put out for the Orlando PD in Meeting Room C yesterday afternoon, Dave. Great job. You’re taking good care of them,” I said.
“Thanks, Maya. It means a lot coming from you. I have to take good care of them, don’t I? They’re going to let French out of jail and they’re going to get the murderer.”
“They sure are. I also want to compliment you on the dinner dance last night. It was elegant. Everything ran like a Swiss monorail. No one would guess French was not behind it all. You and your team are tight.”
“I’m trying, Maya. But, you know, that’s why I’m calling you. I’m getting as nervous as a hooker in church. It’s nerve-wracking. When are they going to let French out? Do you have any idea?”
“No, Dave, I don’t. It is nerve-wracking. I feel the same way. Doug Reed, our attorney, is working on French’s release. I don’t know what the problem is. I called Reed this morning and he said he’s on it.”
“Does he think French’ll get sprung soon?” Dave asked.
“That’s what he keeps telling me,” I said.
Dave was so anxious to do right, it could backfire. The resort could not afford for him to lose his cool. He was the guy in charge. He had to keep himself together.
“Listen, Dave,” I said, trying to both encourage and reassure him, “you’re doing a top flight job. The best way for you to honor French is to take some deep breaths and keep on keepin’ on. You’re a pro. You can handle this. He’ll be back before you can shake a green tambourine.”
“I hope so. It gives me the willies to think that one of these Sapphire people could be a murderer. I look at every single one of them and think, Is it you? Is it you? Is it you? I feel like my head’s about to split open.”
Wow, he was in worse shape than I would have expected. He was raising my own anxiety level. I was running out of cheer and this call was taking longer than I wanted. “Dave,” I said, “French will be let out of jail tomorrow. I feel it in my bones.”
“Oh, thank God.” His voice sounded more relaxed already. “It’s driving me nuts. I haven’t been home since Friday night. The kids miss me. I miss them. Margie could tell something was up at the ball last night. I feel like a criminal for not telling her anything. It’s a mess. Boy, will I be happy to see French.”
“You and me both, Dave. You and me both.”
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Dave said. “Vacaar Luzi asked me to come up to his suite around 3:00 p.m. this afternoon. He said you might be there, too. Do you think he has a complaint about the property?”
“No, I don’t know what he wants. I’ll see you there. I’ve got to run now before I’m late to my own luncheon. Bye.” I hung up.
Why would Vacaar Luzi invite David Enderly and me to his suite? Would Mona be there,
“You are, you are, Dave. You’re doing everything right. The place is spinning smooth like a gyroscope. The higher ups will notice you, for sure.” Dave was a little insecure but that was part of his aw, shucks charm. Underneath his insecurity was a man driven to achieve.
Dave had come to us from our Vermont property, Sapphire Stowe Mountain, where he had learned how to run a four-season resort and, so important to a great career in the industry, how to properly kowtow to monied and spoiled guests.
He and his wife, Margie, were a nice couple with two young children. We sometimes had dinner together at their cottage near the lake in Windermere, or they would come to our place for barbecue during low season.
Once in a while, when her kids were at school, Margie and I floated around Lake Butler for a few hours in her pontoon boat with sandwiches and iced tea.
“I saw the spread you put out for the Orlando PD in Meeting Room C yesterday afternoon, Dave. Great job. You’re taking good care of them,” I said.
“Thanks, Maya. It means a lot coming from you. I have to take good care of them, don’t I? They’re going to let French out of jail and they’re going to get the murderer.”
“They sure are. I also want to compliment you on the dinner dance last night. It was elegant. Everything ran like a Swiss monorail. No one would guess French was not behind it all. You and your team are tight.”
“I’m trying, Maya. But, you know, that’s why I’m calling you. I’m getting as nervous as a hooker in church. It’s nerve-wracking. When are they going to let French out? Do you have any idea?”
“No, Dave, I don’t. It is nerve-wracking. I feel the same way. Doug Reed, our attorney, is working on French’s release. I don’t know what the problem is. I called Reed this morning and he said he’s on it.”
“Does he think French’ll get sprung soon?” Dave asked.
“That’s what he keeps telling me,” I said.
Dave was so anxious to do right, it could backfire. The resort could not afford for him to lose his cool. He was the guy in charge. He had to keep himself together.
“Listen, Dave,” I said, trying to both encourage and reassure him, “you’re doing a top flight job. The best way for you to honor French is to take some deep breaths and keep on keepin’ on. You’re a pro. You can handle this. He’ll be back before you can shake a green tambourine.”
“I hope so. It gives me the willies to think that one of these Sapphire people could be a murderer. I look at every single one of them and think, Is it you? Is it you? Is it you? I feel like my head’s about to split open.”
Wow, he was in worse shape than I would have expected. He was raising my own anxiety level. I was running out of cheer and this call was taking longer than I wanted. “Dave,” I said, “French will be let out of jail tomorrow. I feel it in my bones.”
“Oh, thank God.” His voice sounded more relaxed already. “It’s driving me nuts. I haven’t been home since Friday night. The kids miss me. I miss them. Margie could tell something was up at the ball last night. I feel like a criminal for not telling her anything. It’s a mess. Boy, will I be happy to see French.”
“You and me both, Dave. You and me both.”
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Dave said. “Vacaar Luzi asked me to come up to his suite around 3:00 p.m. this afternoon. He said you might be there, too. Do you think he has a complaint about the property?”
“No, I don’t know what he wants. I’ll see you there. I’ve got to run now before I’m late to my own luncheon. Bye.” I hung up.
Why would Vacaar Luzi invite David Enderly and me to his suite? Would Mona be there,
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