“As I told you, I did what I felt was best for the Savoy. You may trust that woman completely, but I do not have that luxury. I am a woman of business, you see.”
He heard the bitterness in her voice, but he was unsure what she expected him to say or how she expected him to feel. “I’m quite busy, Helen. Is there a point to this little visit or not?”
“I heard you’ve been visiting house agents.”
“How do you know that?”
“You called on Smythe, Ellis, and Hall, the house agents Richard and I use.”
“What of it?”
Instead of answering, she reached into her handbag and pulled out a card. She handed it to him without a word.
He glanced at it. “Jessop and Davis, Piccadilly,” he read. “So?”
“I take it you have not seen them yet?”
“No.”
“You should.” She turned away. “I’ve already told Mr. Jessop to expect you.”
He frowned at her retreating back, puzzled. “But what—”
“Good luck, Simon,” she called as she walked away, but then she paused and looked at him over her shoulder. “To both of you.”
With that, she walked out of the hotel, leaving a bemused Simon staring after her. He doubted Helen’s wish to regain his goodwill would ever come to fruition. Her wish for him to have good luck, on the other hand, he’d gladly accept, for he feared that when it came to winning Delia over, he was going to need every scrap of luck he could get.
20
Well,mon chéri,” Ritz said, smiling at Delia as they settled into chairs at a Parisian café in the Place Vendôme, “what do you think?”
“They’ve done so much,” Delia exclaimed, leaning back as a waiter poured coffee for them. “Really, César, I can hardly believe it. When I was here in January, I despaired at the idea of a June opening. I didn’t think we’d ever be ready. I thought surely you’d need more time.”
The dapper little man across from her smiled into his mustache. “Money can always accomplish great things. I say I want to open in June, andcommeça.” He paused to snap his fingers. “It happens.”
“That’s always been your way,” she agreed. “And it shows in this hotel. You’ve done incredible things here. I just know it is going to be the finest hotel in the world.”
“You have been a part of making it so, don’t forget.”
That was true, she supposed, and yet, as she glanced at the hotel across the square, she felt no sense of accomplishment. Curiously, she felt nothing at all.
“Now that you have toured the suites,” he said, breaking into her thoughts, “have you picked which one you wish to make your own?”
She shook her head. “I haven’t, actually.”
“But why not? I told you that you could have your pick.”
“I know, but…”
She paused, Simon’s words from their first meeting echoing through her brain.
Suites are a valuable commodity to the hotel.
As she had done more times than she could count during the past two weeks, she shoved that man out of her mind. “Oh, I don’t know,” she answered with a laugh. “Perhaps it’s because none of this seems quite real. I haven’t yet accepted your offer, you know.”
“But you will.”
Such a complacent reply irked her a little. She was accustomed to Ritz’s arrogance, of course. He wouldn’t have become the most famous hotelier in the world without that particular trait. On the other hand, his arrogance had been part of the reason he’d been so ignominiously dismissed from the Savoy. Richard had said as much, according to Ritz’s own account of his firing.
