CHAPTER NINE: THE HOTEL WITHOUT A LESSON
The Seabrook Hotel stood beside a divided highway, its glass entrance framed by artificial palms and a banner promising a new era of lakeside luxury.
There was no lake in sight.
Nina parked across the street on Sunday morning, after calling the hotel manager and arranging a meeting in a public lobby.
She had no intention of entering a private training event or provoking Gavin.
She wanted to establish whether the hotel knew its pool had been advertised for lifeguard assessment.
The manager, Audrey Vale, met her beside a display of miniature shampoo bottles.
Audrey looked at Nina’s photograph of the course announcement and rubbed her forehead.
“They rented a conference room,” she said.
“Not the pool?”
“Our pool is closed while the ventilation system is replaced.
”
“Did they ask about water access?”
“They asked whether the photographs on our website were current.”
“What did you tell them?”
“That the new pool area would not open until August.”
Nina followed her toward a glass wall overlooking the covered hotel courtyard.
Behind temporary barriers, workers carried paint buckets past a drained rectangle of blue tile.
At the far end of the lobby stood a registration desk with Harborline’s logo.
A dozen teenagers and young adults were signing in.
Some carried towels.
Others wore swimsuits beneath street clothes.
A mother was arguing with a man in a white Harborline shirt.
“My daughter traveled two hours for a swimming examination,” she said.
“Where is the pool?”
The man pointed toward a conference room.
“We’ll explain the updated evaluation format inside.
”
Nina recognized him from a promotional photograph.
His name was Leon Briggs, one of Harborline’s contracted instructors.
She waited until he was free and introduced herself.
Leon looked from her face to the photograph on her phone.
“I know who you are,” he said.
“Then you know I didn’t authorize my pool for your tests.”
“I was told the site changed because of a safety issue.”
“And what were you told to assess here?”
He glanced toward the conference room.
“Knowledge and emergency response procedures.”
“In a hotel without an operating pool?”
“The practical component is being waived.”
“Who authorized that waiver?”
Leon did not answer.
A candidate with a green towel draped over her shoulders approached them.
“Does this mean I don’t have to swim?” she asked.
Leon started to speak.
Nina held up her hand.
“I’m not with this company,” she said to the candidate.
“You should ask your instructor which recognized certification program allows the assessment he is offering.”
The girl looked at Leon.
“Which one?”
Leon straightened his collar.
“That’s a matter for administration.”
The girl stepped away and called her father.
Nina watched the registration line shorten as people began reading the printed materials more closely.
A uniformed security employee came over to ask whether Nina had permission to conduct business in the lobby.
Audrey answered before Nina could.
“She’s my guest,” she said.
“She is asking about a booking that advertised hotel facilities the guests cannot use.”
Gavin appeared from the conference room carrying a wireless microphone.
He saw Nina and stopped so suddenly that the microphone bumped against his chest.
“You’re trespassing on our session,” he said.
“I’m speaking with the hotel manager in the lobby.”
“You are interfering with contractual training.”
Audrey folded her arms.
“Mr. Rusk, your contract is for the Oak Conference Room and standard audiovisual equipment.”
“That’s correct.”
“Your advertisement says candidates will complete an in-water skills assessment here.”
Gavin smiled thinly.
“That description refers to the curriculum as a whole.”
“Your candidates were told to bring swimsuits,” Audrey replied.
“They may use them elsewhere.”
Nina looked at the people gathering around the registration desk.
Owen Price stood near the back, wearing the same red whistle he had brought to her kitchen.
He was holding his certificate in a transparent folder.
Denise stood beside him.
“We came because they told us he could finish the part he missed,” she said.
Gavin turned toward her.
“Mrs. Price, please don’t be confused by outside parties.”
“Show my son the pool,” Denise said.
“The practical assessment will be completed through an approved alternative methodology.”
“What alternative?” Owen asked.
Gavin hesitated.
Nina noticed that everyone nearby was listening.
“Mr. Rusk,” she said, “you can answer him without addressing me.”
Gavin looked at Leon.
Leon stared at the floor.
Then the girl with the green towel spoke from beside the elevators.
“I paid for a water-rescue class,” she said.
“I can watch videos at home.”
Her father stepped forward.
“Are refunds available?”
Gavin raised the microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please join me inside so I can explain our educational pathway.”
Nobody moved at first.
Audrey took the microphone gently from his hand.
“We need to resolve the facility advertisement before your session continues,” she said.
Gavin’s face hardened.
“You’ll hear from our lawyers.”
“You can contact our booking department,” Audrey replied.
“Right now I’m making sure nobody enters a restricted construction area looking for a swimming pool.”
Nina watched the girl fold her green towel into a small square.
A certificate could be printed within seconds.
The moment when somebody refused to pretend it represented experience took considerably more courage.
