Page 45 of Private Pleasures

“There’s obviously been an error,” the desk clerk said, “and Mr. and Mrs. Buckley checked in a half an hour ago.” He looked uncomfortable.

“That would be my husband and his girlfriend,” Nora replied sweetly. “Well, give me another room, then.”

“I can’t.” The clerk looked agonized now. “We’re full. It’s Parents’ Weekend, madame.”

“I know, and I’m here to visit my son, who is one of the junior varsity soccer stars.” She smiled a dangerous smile. “You have a choice, young man. Either give me another room, or remove my husband and his little playmate from my room.”

“Is there a problem here, Roberts? We’re stacking up with check-ins,” asked an officious man in a dark blazer with a name tag on his lapel that read C. ELDERS, ASSISTANT MANAGER.

Before the poor besieged clerk might answer, Nora said coolly, “The reservation I made has been given to my husband and his girlfriend. Roberts says there are no other rooms. I have my confirmation, and I will wager that no confirmation number was checked when Jeff arrived. I want my room. And I want it now.”

“We can give you a room in the annex, madame. We do keep a few vacant for emergencies,” C. Elders said. He glared at the check-in clerk.

“But I don’t want to be in the annex,” Nora replied, and she gave the man a steely smile. “I want my reservation that is next door to my friends. Put Mr. Buckley and his tartlet in the annex.”

“Madame, we are doing our best,” the assistant manager sputtered.

“I am Mrs. Buckley’s attorney,” Rick broke in, “and I should hate to see this incident become any more public than your inefficiency is making it. Mrs. Buckley will wait in our room while you remove Mr. Buckley and his friend from her room. Is that clear, Mr. Elders?”

“Yes, sir,” the assistant manager said, and then he turned to the hapless check-in clerk. “See to it, Roberts! Immediately!”

Nora and Carla looked at each other and swallowed back their laughter.

“Doncha just love him when he get tough?” Carla said, grinning.

“He’s quite amazing,” Nora agreed. “It’s a whole ‘nother side of Richard Johnson, and I have to say I like it.”

They went upstairs, and Nora listened with a large grin on her face as she heard Jeff bitching when he and Heidi were moved out of the room next door.

“Does this other room have a fireplace?” Jeff demanded to know. “I want to speak with the manager!”

“I’m sorry, sir. The manager isn’t here this weekend, but you can speak with Mr. Elders, his assistant,” the bellhop said.

“I’ve already spoken with that moron,” Jeff almost shouted. “How the hell could this kind of a mix-up occur?”

“I don’t know, sir,” the bellhop said, and they heard the elevator doors closing.

The trio burst into laughter.

“He’ll figure it out soon enough,” Nora said with a chuckle.

Shortly afterwards there came a knock on the door, and Mr. Elders himself was outside it. “I’ve had the bellhop bring up your luggage, Mrs. Buckley. The room has been cleaned, and is ready for you. I apologize for the distress this mix-up has caused you. May I escort you?”

“Thank you,” Nora said quietly. Then she turned to her friends. “What time are we meeting the kids?” she asked.

“Six. Downstairs. We’ve got a reservation in the Colonial Dining Room for dinner,” Carla said.

“I’ll see you there,” Nora told her, and followed the now-unctuous Mr. Elders.

When he had left her Nora looked about the room. It was beautifully done with a tester bed and faux Chippendale furniture. On the table by the fireplace were a small basket of fruit and a box of chocolates. She pulled the card from between an apple and a pear. “Thank you for your patience. C. Elders,” the card read. Nora tossed it into the fire, and picking up the telephone, asked the answering operator, “Do you get The Channel?”

“Yes, madam,” the operator said. “Would you like to order it?”

“Yes. This is Mrs. Buckley in room 320.”

“No problem, Mrs. Buckley. It will be available after

ten p.m.”