JANUARY 1899
With her hands folded to keep them from shaking, Melinda sat in the upholstered gilt-wood armchair outside Mr. Zimmerman’s office door. She hoped her outward appearance didn’t reflect the inner turmoil she’d experienced since being summoned to the supervisor’s office. At the moment, her stomach jiggled like a bowl of egg whites awaiting the whirl of a Dover eggbeater.
At the creaking of the door, she jumped and glanced over her shoulder. “Do come in, Miss Colson.” Mr. Zimmerman stepped to the side to permit her entrance. He left the door ajar, obviously wanting to avoid any appearance of impropriety. He motioned for her to be seated before he circled the desk and took his place in a swiveling mahogany chair. He sighed as he shuffled through a stack of paper work. Finally he extracted two pieces of paper and placed them on top of the pile.
As usual, he was impeccably groomed. Each end of his mustache tipped at a flawless angle, and the part down the middle of his hair was perfectly straight. Not a wrinkle could be found in his pinstriped suit and matching vest. His white collar and cuffs had been starched to perfection, and his bow tie perched at his neck with aligned precision. One look at the man caused Melinda to rub the scuffed toe of her shoe against the back of her stocking.
His eyeglasses rested on the tip of his beaklike nose. Though she’d never before noticed, everything about Mr. Zimmerman was long and angular, even his fingers. He tapped one of the bony appendages on the piece of paper. “I have a matter of importance to discuss with you, Miss Colson. One that I hope will benefit you as well as the entire membership of the Bridal Veil consortium.”
She waited, uncertain if he expected a reply. The movement in her stomach changed from jiggling to whirring. An image of the biscuits and sausage gravy she’d eaten for breakfast flashed through her mind. She touched her fingers to her mouth and swallowed hard. If she lost her breakfast and stained the Aubusson carpet in Mr. Zimmerman’s office, she would surely faint of embarrassment.
“We are expecting a record number of new guests this season.” He lifted his head and beamed at her. “And there has been no decline in the number of returning guests. It should prove a banner year for us.”
She bobbed her head. “I was pleased to hear your report at the Christmas dinner. I’m sure Mr. Morley and the other investors will be very pleased.” She smiled in return, still not knowing what he wanted.
He folded his hands and rotated his chair back and forth. “As you may know, I work at another resort during the summer months. The Sagamore, located in the Adirondacks in New York. You may be familiar?” His dark eyebrows arched high above his eyes.
“I’ve heard some of the ladies speak of visiting the Adirondacks during the summer months, but I’m not personally familiar with the area.”
Like a preening bird, he inched his neck to new heights. If he’d had plumage instead of his shiny black hair, he likely would have fluttered and spread his feathers into a giant colorful fan. Melinda tightened her lips to keep from smiling at the thought.
“Suffice it to say that the Sagamore is beyond lovely—not that Bridal Veil isn’t one day going to be comparable or surpass some of the other resorts. However, in order to do so, we must make certain our guests are provided every possible amenity.” He picked up a pencil and tapped it on the piece of paper.
“Yes, of course. And I believe everyone has been working very hard toward that end.” Did he think the maids were slacking with their work? Why didn’t he simply tell her why he’d called her into his office? “Has there been some complaint about our efforts?”
“No, quite the contrary. But as I was saying, we need to find additional ways to keep our guests occupied. We need to provide them with new and innovative experiences during their visits.”
Her thoughts raced as she attempted to understand what he was leading to. “I believe the racetrack and the new putting greens will help in that regard, don’t you?”
“Yes, but it’s the women I am considering at this particular moment. While there are some who might enjoy the horse races, I think there are many who will find themselves with additional time—time that will need to be occupied so they don’t become unhappy.” He leaned across the desk and pointed the pencil in Melinda’s direction. “That is where you come in, Miss Colson.”
“Me? How so?” Her heart skipped a beat.
“While I was at the Sagamore, they implemented the position of a ‘leisure activities manager’ to coordinate activities for the women and children during times when their husbands were off hunting or fishing, as well as arrange dances and small parties during the evenings. You, Miss Colson, are the perfect person for that position.”
“A leisure activities manager?” Melinda’s hand went to her mouth to suppress a squeal of pure pleasure. Such a position would mean she’d have a permanent home on the island. She wouldn’t have to be away from Evan.
“What would such a job entail, and why do you think I would be perfect for the position, Mr. Zimmerman?” Her stomach churned as she thought of Mrs. Mifflin’s warning. What if her former employers arrived and created a terrible scene. The humiliation would be horrid.
“You possess the education, poise, and natural beauty to interact with the guests in a way that will put them at ease. I’m aware of your background, Miss Colson. The first year you accompanied Mrs. Mifflin, she told me of the tragic death of your parents and how she’d offered you a position after learning of their financial woes. Of course, that isn’t what’s important at the moment. Right now, it is of great value that you are better educated than many of the ladies, and that you know how to conduct yourself in society.”
Melinda held up her hand. She needed to stop this discussion before it went any further. “You need to know that I didn’t leave my employment with the Mifflins under the best of circumstances. I was worried about . . . I needed to know that . . . Well, what I’m trying to say is that if I accept this position, I think Mr. and Mrs. Mifflin will be extremely unhappy.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “You don’t need to worry about Dorothea and Cyrus Mifflin. Mr. Morley has resolved that situation in its entirety, and they will not object.”
“But how did you—”
“There is very little we don’t know about our employees, Miss Colson. Especially those we consider valuable to the operation of Bridal Veil. When I saw how well you worked at the menial labor tasks, I knew you would be perfect. Suffice it to say, the matter is resolved, and the Mifflins wish you well in this new endeavor.”
“Oh, I don’t know what to say.” She couldn’t keep from smiling. “That’s good news indeed, but I’m still uncertain about the position and if I am qualified.”
“You are more than qualified. You’ll have an office here in the clubhouse, and you will arrange and coordinate plans and appointments for guests to rent paddleboats, go horseback riding, play tennis, or participate in polo matches. For activities that require horses, you will coordinate with Garrison O’Sullivan or his staff. In addition, we want you to work with the chefs to plan special teas, birthday parties, bridal parties—the list goes on. Part of the position will be for you to come up with some unique ideas of entertainment for our guests.”
Now that she knew the Mifflins wouldn’t object and she’d heard some of the requirements, Melinda’s excitement mounted. “Perhaps some of the guests would enjoy special river cruises or scavenger hunts. Or even a masquerade or costume ball.”
Mr. Zimmerman jotted down her comments. “I knew you would be the perfect choice. I like all of those ideas, Miss Colson. We’re going to be expanding the putting greens so that guests can enjoy a full golf course. Evan and Harland are going to be quite busy during the season.”
She wanted to say they’d already been quite busy during the off-season but decided she’d best remain silent. Not only would Evan be expected to oversee construction of the new golf course, but once the guests arrived, he’d be required to take the men out on hunts and conduct all of his previous tasks, all for the same pay. Somehow, it didn’t seem right. As far as Melinda was concerned, this meant only one thing: Evan would have less time for her during the coming months. She tried to cheer herself with the thought that if she accepted this new position, she would be busy, as well.
“I’m planning to have your office in the alcove off the main entry by the grand staircase.”
She gasped in surprise. “My own office?”
“Indeed. This will make you readily accessible to the guests. I’ve already arranged for a small desk and a chair that will fit nicely. You’ll need appointment books, ledgers, and a variety of other supplies. You’ll receive a budget and an account so that items may be purchased for teas and so forth.” He leaned forward. “Of course, those costs will then be charged to the guests, but we can go over those matters as you begin to book events.”
She listened carefully to his talk of budgets, ledgers, and supplies, but there had been no mention of her wages. Surely he would increase her pay. She had no idea how the supervisor might react if she mentioned money, but if she planned to accept the position, she should know the pay. And she should exhibit the ability to speak up about such things, shouldn’t she? “You haven’t mentioned the wages for this new position, Mr. Zimmerman. I assume that I’ll receive more than my current wages.”
He chuckled and rubbed his hands together. “I knew I’d selected the right person for this position. Before I brought you in here, I argued with myself about whether you’d have the courage to speak up and ask about your pay.”
“And what did you decide?”
“I decided you would ask about the pay before you accepted the position.” He grinned and his thin face wrinkled like a dried apple. “And though you’ve expressed interest in the job, I didn’t fail to note that you’ve not yet accepted my offer.” He inhaled a deep breath. “We will triple your current wages for the first month. If your performance is as good as we all expect, your pay will be further increased and you will be moved to a small apartment of your own. The board of investors will decide the amount of your wages, which will be based on the job you do.”
“In that case, I accept the position, Mr. Zimmerman.” Triple her current wages was more than Melinda had anticipated. She’d be making as much as when she’d been employed by the Mifflins. Of course, she wouldn’t have the extra benefits such as hand-me-down clothing—and clothing would be an important part of her position. Then again, if she wore a uniform of some sort, she wouldn’t be required to concern herself with clothing. “What about my attire? Will I wear a uniform of sorts, or am I expected to wear dresses that will integrate well with the guests?”
Mr. Zimmerman tugged one end of his mustache. “I hadn’t given that any particular thought. I believe we could have a seamstress over in Biscayne create skirts and shirtwaists that would be appropriate for days in the office. When you are directing more formal functions for the ladies, it might be preferable to wear something more formal.” He peered over his wire-rimmed glasses. “Would that be a possibility?”
“I do have some dresses I’ve refashioned, ones that previously belonged to Mrs. Mifflin. If you think it would be appropriate, I could wear those gowns when necessary.” Melinda hoped she wouldn’t be required to wear one of the gowns in Mrs. Mifflin’s presence, for the older woman would likely make embarrassing comments in front of the other guests.
“To be honest, I’m not certain I’m qualified to make this decision. I’ll speak to Mr. Morley and he’ll seek advice from his wife. For the present, I believe you should plan on the skirts and shirtwaists. When you go to Biscayne, you can make arrangements with a seamstress, and have her bill sent here to my attention.” The clock in the hallway chimed, and Mr. Zimmerman pushed up from his desk. “Why don’t we take a look at the space for your office. That way you’ll have a better idea of anything you might need to purchase.”
Melinda and Mr. Zimmerman strode toward the front of the hotel. Melinda hadn’t previously taken much note of the small alcove, but the supervisor was correct. It provided the perfect spot for an office. She would be immediately accessible to guests when they entered or prepared to depart the hotel. The location would prove beneficial to her as well as to the guests.
Her back was turned when Emma approached and stepped to her side. “Is there something amiss? Did the first-floor maid forget to clean the alcove?”
Mr. Zimmerman shook his head. “Everything is fine, Emma. Miss Colson is inspecting her new office. She’s accepted a position as our leisure activities manager, so that means you’ll need to hire another maid.”
Melinda met Emma’s surprised expression. “I have a permanent job, right here.”
Emma rested her fist on one hip and grinned. “Well, glad I am to hear ya’ve hired this lass for something better than cleaning rooms. Ya’ve made a good choice, for sure.” Emma tapped the side of her head with a finger. “Melinda’s got lots of brains, she does, and she’ll do a good job for ya.”
The supervisor patted Emma’s shoulder and chuckled. “I’m sure the investors will be pleased to hear you approve, Emma.”
“Oh, go on with ya, Mr. Zimmerman. We both know they don’t care what I think, but sometimes even the likes of me knows when things is being done right.” She waved toward Mr. Zimmerman’s office. “I was coming by to tell ya that I’m going over to Biscayne this afternoon and to see if there was anything you’d be needin’.”
“Nothing I can think of at the moment. But Miss Colson has quite a list of things to purchase, so she might want to accompany you.” He turned toward Melinda. “What do you say, Miss Colson? Are you ready to begin purchasing the items you’ll need for your new position?”
Melinda grabbed hold of Emma’s arm and shifted from foot to foot. “Oh yes. That would be wonderful. And thank you, Mr. Zimmerman. I appreciate your confidence, and I promise I won’t disappoint you.” She continued to hold on to Emma, her fingers squeezing into the flesh of the older woman’s arm.
Emma let out a yelp and tugged her arm. “Turn me loose before you leave bruises on me arm, lass.”
“Oh, I’m sorry—I’m so excited.” Melinda clasped a palm to her bodice. “I’ll be frugal with my choices while shopping, and I’ll continue to think of new ideas.”
Mr. Zimmerman rocked on his heels, obviously pleased with her enthusiasm. “No need to be overly concerned about your budget. Purchase whatever is needed—and ask the seamstress to rush on your clothing.”
Melinda hurried after Emma but stopped and turned before she’d crossed the foyer. “When am I to begin, Mr. Zimmerman?”
“Why, tomorrow morning, Miss Colson. Our first guests registered yesterday, and our numbers will increase each day. Until the seamstress completes your clothing, you may wear your own attire. Whatever you deem suitable. I trust your judgment. Oh, and perhaps you should purchase some new shoes.”
Melinda looked down at the scuffed leather that peeked out from beneath her hem. “I promise you, I will.”
Melinda could barely contain her delight. For a brief moment, she considered skipping across the shiny Minton tile. Though she found it impossible to hide her bright smile, she squared her shoulders like a lady and held her head high. If she began skipping, Mr. Zimmerman might reconsider his choice.
Emma and Melinda had descended the outer stairs to the clubhouse when Melinda spotted Evan with a man she’d never before seen. Excited, she waved to him, but he turned away. Surprised, she quickened her pace and headed toward the men, but Emma grabbed her arm. “I wouldn’t be interrupting Evan right now. That’s Mr. Hubbard, our first guest of the season. I heard Evan and Harland chattin’ this mornin’, and these are some kind of important talks. Mr. Hubbard is here as a guest, but it’s business he’s handlin’, as well.”
Melinda understood she must heed Emma’s advice. To interrupt Evan during business wouldn’t be proper. She longed to tell him her news, but it would need to wait until later. “What kind of business? Do you know?”
Emma locked arms and leaned closer. “One of the maids overheard them talkin’ in the main parlor afore they went outside. She says they were talkin’ about the golf course needin’ to be completed before the middle of March and that they hired some special fella that’s to meet with Evan up in Savannah.”
Melinda gasped. “In Savannah? When?”
“Daisy says he’s leavin’ tomorrow.”
“For how long?” Melinda knew Daisy quite well. Much like the Mifflins’ maid, Sally, Daisy enjoyed listening in on any conversation and repeating every word she heard. It mattered little whether it was the hired help, fishermen, or guests. She thought any snippet of conversation worth a listen—and worth repeating, too. No doubt she’d stationed herself outside the main parlor and listened to the entire conversation. Though she didn’t approve of Daisy’s behavior, Melinda wanted to know all the maid had discovered.
Emma shrugged. “She didn’t say, but she did tell me there was talk that the golf course had to be bigger and better than the one on Jekyl Island because of some very special event in March.”
“I don’t see how that’s going to be possible,” Melinda said. “And what event could be so important that they’d have to complete the golf course? There are enough activities that I’d think the men could get by with just the putting greens for another season.”
“You know how these rich folks can be. What they want, they want—and they want it right now.”
Melinda did know. In fact, the words stung her a bit. Once again, she could see how her disgruntled attitude mirrored that of her former employers. She drew a deep breath and tried to dismiss any thoughts of unfairness this new demand would create.
Still, it didn’t seem possible that after all Evan had done to prepare for the season, he’d now be expected to have a golf course ready by mid-March. If he was going to be at the beck and call of guests and board members every minute of every day, maybe securing Harland’s job wasn’t going to be so wonderful. Maybe they needed to discuss an adjustment to their plans.