“You can’t say the hotel roof isn’t big enough.”
“No,” he agreed. “You could easily seat a hundred people up there.”
“But…?” she prompted when he fell silent.
He didn’t reply. Instead, he walked to the other end of the clearing, sipping his sherry, considering the idea. “It would certainly be a unique setting,” he said as she joined him.
“Exactly. No hotel in London has a banquet room like this.”
“That’s probably because of the difficulties.”
“Such as?”
“The logistics, for one thing. It’s a long way from the kitchens to the rooftop, remember. The waiters will have to go up and down seven flights of stairs, serving seven courses of food to a very large group of people. How will you manage that without the food getting cold?”
“The waiters can use the service lifts and the wheeled restaurant carts to bring up the food. I’ve already borrowed one of the waiters and tested the timing. Believe it or not, it takes no longer to deliver food to the roof than it does to take it to the Pinafore Room. Service won’t be a problem.”
He looked around again and shook his head, bemused. “You want to do all this just to ensure that your friend has a place to hold her wedding dinner? A bit over the top, isn’t it?”
“I’m not only thinking of Kay, although she was the impetus for my idea. If we had another large banquet room, we would certainly make good use of it. And besides,” she continued in a rush as if afraid he’d argue that point, “we are talking about the Savoy. As I told you during our first meeting, being over the top is what we’re known for.”
“You’re not the only one to tell me that. The staff reminds me daily that the merely mundane and practical is not up to Savoy standards.”
“Having trouble getting everyone to embrace your oh-so-sensible changes, are you?” she murmured, giving him a look of feigned surprise over the rim of her wineglass.
“The changes are sensible, Delia. More importantly, they arenecessary. Because of that, the staff’s opinion on the matter cannot be my primary concern.”
“No,” she allowed, “but you can’t blame them for being worried about their future. How many of their jobs will you decide are unnecessary before the investors can make an acceptable profit?”
He took a moment to reply, appreciating the fine line he was walking. “I can’t make any blanket promises,” he said at last, “but I don’t plan on dismissing anyone else except for just cause.”
Her radiant smile was his reward. “Do I have your permission to pass that information on to everyone?”
“Would my lack of permission stop you?” he countered wryly.
Her smile faded to a serious expression. “If you swore me to secrecy, I wouldn’t tell. I hope, however, that I can reassure them?”
“Of course. But,” he added with a sigh, thinking of Ritz, “I’m not sure how much good it will do.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Thankfully, Hardwicke’s voice interrupted before he could reply.
“My lady, dinner is served.”
They returned to the table, but if Simon thought the distraction of dinner would enable him to sidestep the issue, he was mistaken, for they had barely sat down before she resumed the subject.
“If you’re having trouble with the staff,” she said as the footman set their soup in front of them and took their sherry glasses, “perhaps I can help.”
That offer brought to mind the Duke of Westbourne’s advice from a week ago.
If you can get her on your side, she can be of great assistance to you.
Sadly, he wasn’t sure how much help the duke’s advice could be. His biggest problem was Ritz, and in that battle, he knew quite well which side Delia would come down on. And besides, until her innocence or guilt was determined and this whole fraud business decidedonce and for all, he could not afford to trust her an inch. “Do you truly want to help?” he asked.
“Of course! I’ll help you any way I can.” She gave him an impish grin. “As long as you let me put a hothouse on the roof.”
He laughed at that. He couldn’t help it. “God, woman, you are relentless. Do you never take no for an answer?”
