“I was just grabbing water.”
“Have a mimosa,” Birdie says. “Also, I do bite, just not too hard.”
I sit because my curiosity is piqued. I’ve been warned about these women by several people, and I’d like to know just how dangerous they are.
Lucille flips to a fresh page in her notebook and writes something without looking up. Gale slides a mimosa across the table, and I take it because saying no would be rude.
“How are you enjoying your stay so far?” Gale asks, holding eye contact like she already knows the answer and wants to see if I’ll tell the truth.
“It’s been great. Exactly what I needed after working so much. The B&B is starting to feel like home.”
“And there’s no place like it,” Gale adds, patting my hand and squeezing it. “What is it you do, sweetheart? Most people can’t afford two whole months on the beach.”
The dining room is so silent, I’m almost convinced I can hear my heart thumping. Birdie’s pen scratches across the crossword, and in the distance, I can hear the clank of Wendy’s keyboard drifting from the lobby. I take a moment to sip the mimosa.
“I work in consulting,” I finally say. It’s not a complete lie, but not the truth either. “Took some time off between contracts because I haven’t had a vacation in seven years.”
The words come out too easy, like they always do. I’ve said versions of this exact line a hundred times at different dinners and fundraisers when I don’t want to talk about what I actually do. I can’t admit to the Bees that I’m the CEO of one of the most successful financial firms in the world. Guilt takes over because these women are genuinely interested in my life. And Gale’s granddaughter—who I very much like spending time with—is on the other side of the wall, listening to every damn word I say.
“Must be very lucrative consulting work,” Gale says.
“Yes, but at what cost?” I ask her.
“Only you can answer that,” Gale tells me. “Eventually, when you’re old, like us, you realize living and experience are more important than anything else. What’s the point of having everything you want if there is no one to share it with?”
Our eyes meet, and I give her a nod. “Great advice.”
Birdie fills in another answer on her crossword. “Do you have any kids?”
Gale swats her arm. “Don’t betoonosy.”
“Not yet. Hopefully eventually.”
“Really?” Gale is suddenly intrigued. “How many do you want?”
“Four.At least.”
A crash comes from the lobby, pulling all of our attention away.
Seconds later, Wendy comes into view, her cheeks red. “Sorry! Clumsy me knocked the stool over while reaching for the stapler,” she says.
It’s a lie, one I see through so easily. I lick my lips, trying not to smile.
The Bees hold a silent conversation in a language I can’t speak. I finish the mimosa and set the glass down.
“Refill?” Birdie asks.
“No thanks. I appreciate it.”
Rose joins them at the table, and I use the distraction to excuse myself.
“Enjoy your morning, ladies. Thanks for the invite.”
“You too, sweetheart. Join us anytime you’d like. We’re here all the time,” Gale says with a wink.
I move through the lobby as Wendy taps numbers into a calculator. She doesn’t look up when I pass. “I’ll be up after lunch to change your sheets,” she says, but not too loud.
“I’m about to head out and go for a walk before it gets too hot. End of day will be better for room service,” I say, walking to the front door.
