Author’s Note
This is an excerpt from my forthcoming novel, set in the Deep South and centered around Jane Powers—a schoolteacher unexpectedly tasked with running an inn in historic Natchez, Mississippi. As guests arrive, Jane finds herself learning the art of hospitality on the fly and stumbling through through the day with all the Southern Charm she can muster. Here’s a peek…
Jane had butterflies in her stomach. Cleotha had given her the fastest crash course in the history of the Natchez hospitality industry. She felt that what she didn’t know about innkeeping could be covered by Southern charm—at least, that was what she hoped.
The first couple to arrive were Robert and Janice Friedman, the New Yorkers. Janice walked in with her head on a swivel, sweat visibly glistening on her décolleté.
“My Gawd,” she said, fanning herself with a giant Louis Vuitton straw hat. “I dunno if I can handle this heat. Don’t get me wrawng the City is hot, but this? It’s barely May! May isn’t even summah yet, is it?”
“Welcome to Hitmore House—I mean, Whitmore House! I’m Jane. I’m, um—here to make sure your stay is… pleasant. You and Mr. Friedman—yes?—you’re in the Charlotte Mae Room, that’s our deluxe suite.”
Jane laughed a little too loudly, then immediately winced at her own awkwardness.
“I can—I mean, I’d be happy to carry your bag upstairs, if you’d like. It’s just—this way, right over here—”
Jane reached for the suitcase handle, misjudged the distance, and caught her toe on the corner of the bag, stumbling forward as the suitcase skidded across the floor and fell to its side.
“Oopsy—” she steadied herself on the banister, cheeks flushed, rolling her eyes at her own clumsy display.
She forced a nervous laugh, “All good… lemme grab that for you.”
Janice sauntered to the overstuffed chair in the corner, inspected it, and carefully sat on the edge of the blue seat. “Wait a second, I gotta sit down. Mr Friedman is outside settlin’ up with the driver. I dunno who hired the guy,” she said, still fanning wildly. “He picked us up from the airport… Mr. William, I think he said.” She shrugged and leaned back in the chair. “Anyway, we thought he would be our driver for the duration, but apparently it doesn’t work like that down here.”
Robert walked through the door.
“Oh, there you are—It is so freakin’ hot,” she continued, still fanning. “I hope our room is cooler I think our room is the Charlottes Way room or somethin’… whaddid you call it?” she said in Jane’s general direction.
Jane perked up at the sudden attention. “It’s the Charlotte Mae. You see, the rooms are named after the original owner’s daughters…”
“Charming—Robert, did the valet get all the bags? I think I need a nap—Or a cocktail—Or both. I am so damn hot.”
With a deadpan expression, Robert answered, “The bags are out on the curb. There is no valet. And yes… you are very perceptive. It is hot. Welcome to the Deep South.”
Jane finally got the Friedmans situated in their room. She provided them with the best Southern hospitality she could muster. She gave them great restaurant recommendations—but only the ones with the most extensive bar and wine lists, of course.
It was going well. Thankfully, today required no breakfast. Tomorrow would be a different story. She and Cleotha would be serving up a traditional Southern breakfast, complete with fancy place settings and white tablecloths. That would be the true test. Today, all Jane needed to do was check the guests in and relax.
The next couple to check in was from the northernmost tip of Mississippi—Corinth, to be exact—and apparently, they were regulars. Came down at least once a year to visit family. The Robinsons were just sweet people. No drama. Cleotha even said Ruby made up her own bed when they stayed.
They seemed nice enough… but Jane couldn’t shake the sense that something was just a little off.
Still, they knew the drill. Hardly anything was required of her. Same room as always. Same soft smiles. It was easy. And with each couple that arrived, Jane found herself growing more confident.
The third party to arrive was Malcolm Reed and Danielle Price. By the time they arrived, Jane had it down.
“Welcome to the Whitmore Inn. I’m Jane. Please allow me to show you to your rooms. We have breakfast for guests in the main dining room at 8:30 tomorrow morning. Do you have plans to join us?”
“What do you think?” Malcolm looked at Danielle for confirmation.
“Yeah… it’s a bed and breakfast, right? By the way, I have a few dietary restrictions,” she said, digging in her oversized tote. “I eat clean—nothing processed—nothing.” She finally retrieved a list from her bag and handed it to Jane. “Here’s my list. You need to stick to that. Thanks.” She winked at Jane and spun on her heels, headed toward the stairs.
“Come on, Malcolm—I need to freshen up. Can you hurry, please?”
Malcolm sighed quietly, glanced at Jane, grabbed the suitcases, and slowly headed up the stairs behind her. “I’ll get the rest of the bags in a minute.”
“Oh, Malcolm… I need that small bag.” Rolling her eyes, “How am I supposed to take a shower without my toiletry bag?”
“I will get it in a second,” Malcolm called down from the second-floor landing, his voice flat.
Jane and Cleotha stood watching the couple ascend. Jane looked over and said, “Did you see her wink at me like I was the hired help?”
“Um—Jane, you are the hired help.”
“Oh—yeah… I guess I am.”
“Welcome to my world.” Cleotha turned and headed toward the kitchen.
The last couple to check in was from Jackson—Beau and Emmy Monroe. They arrived late and went straight to their rooms. Jane didn’t even get the chance to impress them with her usual spiel. She asked if they’d be joining for breakfast, but all she got was a somber nod before they started toward the stairs. She watched them go and muttered under her breath, “You’re welcome.”
After the last group came in, the day was done. Jane was proud of herself. She’d made it. She was surprised at how easy it had been. Truthfully, she was starting to enjoy being a quasi-innkeeper—more than she expected.
She decided a quick phone call was in order. The day had gone so well, she wanted to share her little triumph.
“Hey Mike, I was hoping to catch you. I guess I’ll just leave a message… Anyway, today went great. I was really proud of myself. Haven’t heard from you in a few days. Lizzie says hey. We miss you. Call me when you can.”
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