Carolina Heat by Barth Christi

Author:Barth, Christi [Barth, Christi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-06-15T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Even on this stifling June day the doorman was outfitted in a full uniform, from top hat down to the white gloves.

“Welcome to the Jefferson, the finest hotel in the state of Virginia.”

“Really – is it printed on their matchbooks?” Annabelle whispered.

“Wait until we get inside. You’ll see.” Mark put a hand in the small of her back and gave her a slight push through the doorway.

She only made it two steps in the door before dropping her overnight bag. “Mark, this is amazing!”

He hadn’t visited in years, and took a moment to reacquaint himself with the majestic hotel. The grand lobby was bigger than a ballroom, and the décor looked as though time stopped in 1858. Floor to ceiling red velvet curtains tied back with gold fringed swags framed the windows. Gilt columns supported an ornate, stained glass rotunda. He picked up her bag and tugged her down the wide marble staircase.

“They used to keep live alligators in pools here back at the turn of the century. I think all the plants are a much better choice.” Mark led her to a plump, clearly antique peach and gold chair. She sank into its softness while he checked in and reserved a room for Jonathan. He returned quickly and pulled up an equally overstuffed chair.

Annabelle stretched her arms overhead and then crossed them behind her neck. “After driving through some downright depressing parts of the city, I never expected to find anything like this here. I feel like I stepped back in time. And when I did, I suddenly became extremely wealthy.”

“Don’t get used to it. We’re only staying here one night.”

“Wanderlust is paying all my expenses. I don’t want to put you out.”

“Don’t get me wrong—I can afford it. I just don’t want you to expect this kind of treatment from me all the time. Then it wouldn’t be special, would it?”

A woman dressed in period clothing appeared at Annabelle’s elbow and bobbed a curtsey. Her puffy white mobcap shook as she spoke.

“Welcome to afternoon tea. It is my pleasure to serve you today.” She quickly ran through a list of six different teas and returned moments later with individual, steaming pots. The china was so translucent the rose pattern showed through on the inside of the cups. A sugar bowl held actual sugar cubes with cunning little silver tongs to serve, lemon slices wrapped in cheesecloth, and a very elaborate ritual of pouring the tea commenced.

Annabelle gaped at Mark. “Do you go through this every afternoon?”

“Of course. We Southerners are quite set in our traditions.” He winked at her, smug in the knowledge he’d pleased her with this surprise. “Who has time to do this every day? Consider it my attempt to keep you from getting homesick for your New York elegance.”

“Most of New York’s dirty and frankly a pain in the neck. I spend at most ten weeks a year there in my own apartment, which, by the way, could entirely fit within this room. Are you trying to get me riled up again? I thought we were past that.

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