Read Online Drop Dead Divas by Virginia Brown - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Virginia Brown
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three-digit level. June had already seen an unseasonable scorcher or two. If it kept up, by July 4 th Marshall County would be a red sand desert with no green grass in sight. Except for Bitty’s lawn. She has automatic sprinklers.
Rayna's house, the Delta Inn, is a lovely nineteenth century hotel that had fallen into disrepair at one time. As so many buildings and homes, it was scheduled to be torn down and replaced by weeds and forlorn footings, but Rayna and Rob had taken a liking to it and saved it from the wrecking ball. The lobby of the inn still has lots of marble and ornate fireplace mantles, which I’m sure the salvage company still regrets not getting their hands on. Stuff like that sells at flea markets, antique fairs, and on the Internet for incredible prices.
They are slowly refurbishing the interior, and Rayna uses the lobby as her artist’s studio since it has plenty of natural light. It has a unique domed skylight on the roof, and floor to ceiling windows on the north, east, and west sides. Potted tropical plants grow to enormous size, and you can usually find a cat or two sleeping under a gigantic leaf as big as a beach umbrella. The former baggage room makes a discreet cattery, complete with litter trays, food bowls, and small dishes with running water. Rob and Rayna have no children, so the animals receive the benefit of their time and attention.
Behind the lobby is an industrial size kitchen with all the amenities. Rayna cooks gourmet meals when she isn’t busy painting and selling canvases of a wide variety of subjects. A lot of the paintings feature her animals or garden and sell quite well locally and at small gallery showings. She really is a woman of many talents.
“How many of the upstairs rooms do you have done?” Bitty asked when we were all sitting at what used to be the check-in counter but is now a breakfast bar of sorts.
“Just two. Rob has been so busy lately investigating insurance claims, and when he isn’t doing that, he’s busy bailing somebody out of jail. So it’s been difficult to put much time into renovation. We’ll get it done one day.”
“Are you going to do like the Madewells and rent out rooms?”
Rayna shuddered. “Lord, no! Can you imagine me in my painter’s smock trying to change beds for new guests? It’d be a mess.”
“True.” Bitty readjusted Chen Ling in the baby sling she wore across her chest as a constant accessory. I suppose that’s why the slings are always in matching colors and suitably fancied up. “I didn’t mean it when I told Trina that I’ve thought about renting out rooms at Six Chimney’s, you know,” said Bitty as if telling us something we didn’t already know. “I just said that to make her feel comfortable.”
“Have you heard from her since she tore out of your house like a cat with its tail on fire?” asked Rayna.
“Not even a phone call, much less a written note. Really. People have no manners these days, have you noticed? No one observes the social graces anymore.”
“Good god,” I said. “Count yourself lucky she didn’t take home the silver as she left. You’d be amazed at the things people do in hotels.”
“I had forgotten you used to work in the hospitality industry, Trinket.” Rayna poured me another glass of lemonade. She makes the old-fashioned kind of lemonade with juicy lemon slices crushed in sugar and ice, and fresh mint added to give it a zing. Her garden is overflowing with different kinds of mint and herbs. Rayna has a green thumb, too. As I said before, a woman of many talents. “I suppose there were a lot of things taken when the guests left. Towels, soap, things like that?”
“If we didn’t nail the paintings to the wall, they would be missing. Towels, lamps, shower curtains, silverware, dishes—once a guest took the toilet seat. Don’t ask me how he got it off. He must have checked in a tool box inside his luggage.”
“Was that at The Peabody?” Bitty asked. “It must have
Rayna's house, the Delta Inn, is a lovely nineteenth century hotel that had fallen into disrepair at one time. As so many buildings and homes, it was scheduled to be torn down and replaced by weeds and forlorn footings, but Rayna and Rob had taken a liking to it and saved it from the wrecking ball. The lobby of the inn still has lots of marble and ornate fireplace mantles, which I’m sure the salvage company still regrets not getting their hands on. Stuff like that sells at flea markets, antique fairs, and on the Internet for incredible prices.
They are slowly refurbishing the interior, and Rayna uses the lobby as her artist’s studio since it has plenty of natural light. It has a unique domed skylight on the roof, and floor to ceiling windows on the north, east, and west sides. Potted tropical plants grow to enormous size, and you can usually find a cat or two sleeping under a gigantic leaf as big as a beach umbrella. The former baggage room makes a discreet cattery, complete with litter trays, food bowls, and small dishes with running water. Rob and Rayna have no children, so the animals receive the benefit of their time and attention.
Behind the lobby is an industrial size kitchen with all the amenities. Rayna cooks gourmet meals when she isn’t busy painting and selling canvases of a wide variety of subjects. A lot of the paintings feature her animals or garden and sell quite well locally and at small gallery showings. She really is a woman of many talents.
“How many of the upstairs rooms do you have done?” Bitty asked when we were all sitting at what used to be the check-in counter but is now a breakfast bar of sorts.
“Just two. Rob has been so busy lately investigating insurance claims, and when he isn’t doing that, he’s busy bailing somebody out of jail. So it’s been difficult to put much time into renovation. We’ll get it done one day.”
“Are you going to do like the Madewells and rent out rooms?”
Rayna shuddered. “Lord, no! Can you imagine me in my painter’s smock trying to change beds for new guests? It’d be a mess.”
“True.” Bitty readjusted Chen Ling in the baby sling she wore across her chest as a constant accessory. I suppose that’s why the slings are always in matching colors and suitably fancied up. “I didn’t mean it when I told Trina that I’ve thought about renting out rooms at Six Chimney’s, you know,” said Bitty as if telling us something we didn’t already know. “I just said that to make her feel comfortable.”
“Have you heard from her since she tore out of your house like a cat with its tail on fire?” asked Rayna.
“Not even a phone call, much less a written note. Really. People have no manners these days, have you noticed? No one observes the social graces anymore.”
“Good god,” I said. “Count yourself lucky she didn’t take home the silver as she left. You’d be amazed at the things people do in hotels.”
“I had forgotten you used to work in the hospitality industry, Trinket.” Rayna poured me another glass of lemonade. She makes the old-fashioned kind of lemonade with juicy lemon slices crushed in sugar and ice, and fresh mint added to give it a zing. Her garden is overflowing with different kinds of mint and herbs. Rayna has a green thumb, too. As I said before, a woman of many talents. “I suppose there were a lot of things taken when the guests left. Towels, soap, things like that?”
“If we didn’t nail the paintings to the wall, they would be missing. Towels, lamps, shower curtains, silverware, dishes—once a guest took the toilet seat. Don’t ask me how he got it off. He must have checked in a tool box inside his luggage.”
“Was that at The Peabody?” Bitty asked. “It must have
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