Things were bound to pick up, Jenna assured herself as she walked across the parking lot from Aunt Edie’s house, where she and her daughter, Sabrina, also lived, to the motel office.

There was plenty to do on a Monday. Catch up on paperwork, post some new pictures on Instagram, add a new Aunt Edie culinary creation to the Facebook page. Blog about the great weather they were having down at the beach. It’s still sunny. Come one, come all.

She’d just gotten into the office when Coral pulled up in her dad’s truck. Coral was only working part-time. Very part-time. More like barely any time since they didn’t have any reservations. She was a sweet girl, nineteen and trying to earn money for college. Jenna wished she could offer Coral more hours, but it looked like they were stuck limping along until summer.

“Hi,” she greeted the girl. “This is a surprise. I didn’t expect you in today.”

“I know.” Coral bit her lip.

Uh-oh. “What’s up?” As if Jenna couldn’t guess.

“I’m giving my two weeks’ notice. I’m sorry,” she added, looking as if she’d just confessed to shop-lifting. “It’s just that, well, I need to be making more money.”

Didn’t they all? “I understand,” Jenna said. “I wish we had more work for you.”

“Me, too.”

“I’ll be happy to give you a good reference.”

“Oh, you don’t have to. I already have a job.”

“You do? Where?”

Coral’s cheeks turned red as a stoplight. “The Oyster Inn.”

Which was booked solid pretty much all year long. Jenna nodded and forced a smile, told herself not to be jealous of Patricia Whiteside’s success. The woman had been in business in Moonlight Harbor forever, and she’d worked hard. She’d gone slightly more upscale with her establishment. The Oyster Inn was as charming as its owner. It boasted a small restaurant and a boutique shop, in addition to great views, and catered to visitors who wanted to enjoy a stay in someplace more high-end.

“Well, good. I’m glad,” she said. For Coral, anyway. For herself, not so much.

“I wouldn’t have left, really. But…”

“I know,” Jenna said. “I get it. No worries, okay?”

Coral bit down on her lip again, nodded and then bolted out of the office.

Jenna watched her go and sighed. Oh, well. The glass was still half full, right? Now she didn’t have to pay someone to clean the rooms. She could probably get by without anyone until spring and that would save money.

Darn it all, she didn’t want to save money. She wanted to make money.

The phone rang. Someone making a reservation! She picked it up and sang a cheerful, “You’ve reached the Driftwood Inn where it’s beach time all the time.” (Her own clever slogan!) “This is Jenna. How may I help you?”

“We have a reservation for this weekend,” said a female voice. “Smithers?”

Maybe they wanted to reserve another room. Extend their stay. Ms. Smithers could be calling for any number of reasons. Please don’t let it be…