Swim to Me by Betsy Carter

Author:Betsy Carter [Carter, Betsy]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: General Fiction, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9781565124929
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 2007-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

What was the name again?”

“Walker. Gail Walker.”

The hotel clerk ran his finger down a list of names as he tapped a pencil against his forehead.

“I’m sorry, but we don’t seem to have any Walkers. Is it possible it could be under another name?”

“I’m here with the CFAA Convention. Maybe it’s under Mandor. Avalon Mandor,” Gail said, trying to sound pleasant.

“Avalon. Interesting name,” he said, twirling the eraser into the side of his cheek.

“Ahh, yes, here we go: Avalon Mandor: one assistant, plus child. Assistant—” He looked up. “Could that be you?”

Gail hadn’t quite thought of herself as an assistant. She had certainly made it sound to Thelma and Delores as if she were equal to Avalon, if not running the CFAA. But the truth was, ever since the cab pulled up to this hotel, pink as Westie’s Play-Doh, with its turrets, pointed arches, and swaggering palm trees, Gail had felt overwhelmed by the size and ritziness of it all. The one time she had gone into New York City to shop at Saks Fifth Avenue, she’d felt as if she were trespassing—that Alexander’s was where she really belonged. This hotel, with the men in their starchy blue uniforms reaching for her bags, calling her ma’am, and wishing her a good stay made her feel the same way—as if everyone was wondering what exactly a woman of her station thought she was doing here. So she allowed that, yes, she could very well be Avalon Mandor’s assistant.

“We have a room for you and the little guy,” he said, looking down at Westie. “This, uh, time of year, particularly with this, uh, convention, we get booked so far in advance. It’s a little, uh, modest, but cozy. And you’ll be only minutes from the beach. Room 101.”

Gail took the key. “Sounds fine,” she said, surprised by the sharpness in her voice. She picked up Westie in one arm, their bags in the other, and said she would make her own way to the room, thank you. The room was half in the basement and half above ground, so that there was a band of light across the top of the window. It was dark and small, and the constant revving sound of the generator made the walls vibrate slightly. A narrow bed was covered with a pale yellow blanket, full of those little nubs of wool that indicate the blanket has been well used. Next to the bed was a fold-up canvas cot. There were no pictures on the wall, just the purple stain of something spilled or thrown. Wine perhaps. And there was a folding metal luggage rack and a scratched wooden bed stand with a gooseneck lamp.

“They’ve certainly put me in my place,” Gail said to Westie, as she searched the wall for a switch that would turn on the gooseneck. Westie sat at the foot of the bed, hugging his stuffed turtle. Tired and hungry, he’d only talked to Otto and Dorph since they’d left Weeki Wachee six hours earlier.

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