Deborah was back from whatever appointment she had that day and was on the phone when Gordon dripped in to the office. The patio was covered in ugly puddles trying to crowd down the inadequate drains and he could see faces at the windows of a few of the rooms, staring plaintively out at their liquid holiday.

She finished the call, entered something in the booking sheet and looked at him.

"Why on earth didn't you drive? You heard the weather report."

"It just didn't look that bad, and I wasn't expecting to be so long."

"Why were you?"

"Well first of all I told the committee to stuff their complaint; I wasn't apologizing. They don't want to look at my ideas then they can mollify the complainers themselves. Secondly, Jeannette wanted to speak privately to me so we went for a coffee."

"Really." Not pleased.

"She's having some kind of party at her place and—"

"Am I invited too?"

"I'm not invited, Deb, she wants to put three couples up here for one night . . . next Friday."

"Friday night? That kills the rest of the weekend, Gordon."

"She's offering to pay a little more, if she likes the place that is."

"Why wouldn't she?"

"No reason I guess." He hummed and hawed.

"What is she up to?"

"I told you. She's having this party for the Mayor. She uh- she wasn't on the board when the hotel tours were done so she would like to come by and have a mini tour here."

"Really. And when might that be?"

"Uhm . . . tonight. Eight-ish?"

"Tonight." She held up the booking sheet and he saw that she had taken reservations for two rooms starting that night and running through to Thursday.

"Wow, that's great, Deb."

"It leaves you with five rooms to tour with Miss Whyst. Two of which are housekeeping. If she takes three that leaves us with two plus two more housekeeping for the weekend. Nobody is going to book a housekeeping room for two nights."

"Let's just see what happens okay? Your booking will make up for any loss on the weekend."

"I don't think that's the way it's supposed to work, Gordon. We aren't in this to break even." She got up and left the office in a Deborah huff.

"I know that." He called after her. Hell, it isn't even her money we're talking about!

Nita came around to the office door and knocked.

He opened the door. "What? Why are you knocking?"

"I didn't want to interrupt your argument."

"We weren't arguing."

"Sounded like an argument."

"We were not arguing. What do you want?"

"The dryer stopped again and I didn't overload it." She closed the door and went off down the patio with her vacuum cleaner.

Gordon marched through to back door and out to the laundry. The dryer door was open and it was empty; on top of the washing machine was a pile of damp linens. "Godammit!" He closed the door and turned on the switch. The dryer began to run. He placed his hand on the exhaust hose and it was hot. He opened the door and stuck his hand inside. It was quite warm. He threw the damp linens in and turned it on again. It worked fine. "Godammit, Nita!"

"What is your problem? People can hear that out on the patio." Deborah stood in the doorway, hands on hips.

"There's nobody on the patio, it's raining." He checked the load again and found it was warm. "She just didn't want to have to finish the laundry."

"You're too soft on her." She closed the door and left him outside.

He jerked open the door and went in after her. "I asked you to speak to her, remember?"

"You should just learn how to deal with her."

He stopped and sputtered before getting his sentences out. "How about you deal with her then, warden? Turn some of that wrath I get regularly on her."

She spun around and glared at him. "If that's how you feel, fine. I've got an appointment; you can do what you want with Nita, fix your own dinner and conduct your mini tour with the delectable, Jeannette Whyst."

"Whoa, wait a sec! What appointment?" He hurried to the door but she was already ramming her umbrella open and stomping out to the parking lot. He closed the door and sighed. Delectable? The phone rang and he answered with a dull mood.

"Oh, bad time?"

Huh? Who's this?"

"Jeannette, I was wondering if we were still on for eight, you said you had to talk to your partner."

He slid into his chair and wet his lips. "Yeah, no, tonight's fine. Deb- my partner won't be here but we discussed it."

"So we're good?"

"If you like what's available."

"I'm sure I will. See you later then."

"Yeah, later."

*****************************

The rain had left the patio a mess and the place looked generally dull and washed out. Puddles still threatened the unwary as darkness settled and the gardens had splashed bits of dirt onto the flagstone fronting them. Some of the stones had cracked over the years and bits of flag were gathering like crumbs along the edges. Gordon grabbed some dry rags from the laundry room and went about the patio wiping down the lounge chairs and tables. It was a task he performed every morning before the guests appeared and sat on the sand dusted furniture.

He pouted over his dinner. Deborah had started to make a casserole of beef and vegetables and he tried to finish it. Bad decision. He didn't do the meat properly first and he didn't know how long to cook it. As it turned out, not long enough. He might as well have eaten it out of the refrigerator. Chunks of leftover Italian bread and a hearty goblet of wine substituted... and then another hearty goblet.

By eight o-clock he was unsure if he really wanted to do a tour—even for Jeannette Whyst. The wine had affected him more than he expected. Deborah hadn't returned and he had no idea what her appointment was if she even had one. It wouldn't be the first time she bunked with one of her girlfriends in town when she was in a pithy mood.