Private Relations by Nancy Warren Page B

to anyone.”
    “So it seems.”
    “The airhead gene raises its head again.”
    “I can’t get hold of Piper to confirm.”
    “She’s in the Hamptons. With Trace.”
    “Ah. Cell phone turned off.”
    “Yep.”
    “So, we’re on our own.”
    “All right. This is not a disaster,” she reminded them both, sitting up straighter and pushing her glass out of the way. The word disaster played like a drumbeat against the inside of her skull. Disaster, disaster, disaster.
    Kit racked her brain to remember what the woman’s fantasy was. She remembered that she and Piper had laughed. The woman had wanted to be a princess for oneweekend. Piper thought every woman who stayed at Hush should feel like a princess. It was a nice marketing hook. “Are any of the suites free?”
    “The Vera Wang and the Oscar de la Renta.”
    “Okay. Put her in the Oscar. It’s more princessy. What’s she like?”
    There was a short pause. “She’s unusual.”
    “Unusual in a good way? Like eccentric? Or unusual like somebody needs to go back on their meds?”
    “Um. Kind of both. She’s a stand-up comedienne. If you get my drift. I really think you need to get back here.”
    “All right. I’m sorry about this Janice, and thanks. I’ll get her a host and we’ll make this work. Don’t worry.”
    Don’t worry indeed. Why hadn’t she gone into accounting like her dad had suggested?
    She closed her phone and found Peter regarding her with a not-quite-disguised smirk. “Trouble?”
    “Right here in River City. I’ve got a stand-up comedienne looking for a good time. Her letter had the wrong dates on it and she somehow got Piper involved who made a mess of the booking.” She shook her head. “Piper’s brilliant, but she’s not a good detail person.”
    “I can imagine.”
    “Yeah. We never let her near the bookings.”
    “So, you’ve got a stand-up comic standing at Hush reception as we speak?”
    Kit nodded. “And you know she’s got to be looking for fresh material for her next gig.”
    “Don’t you check these winners out before you choose them?”
    She stared at him. “Obviously not. Look, can you go feed the ducks or something while I make some calls?I’m sorry about this, but I’ve got to get a host for this woman, and fast.”
    She shook a warning finger at him. “And not one word about how that seems to be an epidemic. I am on to you.”
    He raised both hands in a peace gesture. “I wasn’t going to say anything. Let me know if I can help.”
    “Unless you know the next Jerry Seinfeld, and he’s single and lives in New York, then no.”
    Already she was scrolling through her stored numbers. The good news was that most of the people she’d already approached about being hosts or hostesses were in the entertainment business.
    Roger was already organized for next week. Roger was a big teddy bear of a guy who’d been a bouncer and had briefly tried pro wrestling before settling in to work as a character actor. He’d had bit parts in Law & Order , CSI: NY and a couple of feature films. When he was waiting for the next part, he did a lot of partying. Roger had a great sense of humor. He’d seemed perfect. She called him and got his roommate. Apparently he was definitely partying this weekend.
    In L.A.
    It felt as if history was repeating itself as she went through exactly what she’d been through the day before, only this time it was male recorded voices telling her they weren’t available, out of town, leave a message, blah, blah, blah. She left a couple of messages, but there wasn’t time.
    She was going to have to break her own rules and use one of the hotel staff to fill in—at least they had cute guys on call all weekend. It didn’t feel right, though, and the last thing she wanted was to end up part of a standup routine that started, “Let me tell you about this doorman at Hush. Let’s just say he didn’t knock when he entered.”
    She started packing up the remains of the picnic without even