I keep any further opinions to myself. ‘OK, well, be safe. Have fun.’
31
8 DECEMBER
I spend the day buzzing around the hotel, completing one chore before moving on to the next. There are so many items on our to-do list but they’re easily achieved if I just keep my energy levels up and eye on the prize – partially opening by 18 December, which is ten short days away. We still haven’t decorated the tree, or the lobby. It’s been all hands on deck trying to get the place painted. The words written. And the mystery of suite nineteen has been on my mind, but time slips away so fast here at the hotel.
JP meets me in the lobby for a walkaround. He points out a few jobs they’ve got left to complete. Really, it’s just smaller finicky work, patching up scuffed skirting boards, removing the last of the clutter and junk from the suites and the shared spaces. ‘We’re slightly ahead of schedule,’ he says. ‘So most of our crew are going to move on to the next project. I’ll stay here with just a few of my staff to get the last of it done.’
‘Are you confident we can take bookings now? We have a guaranteed completion date?’
He nods. ‘December eighteenth, but, like I said, I’ll stick around and fix the cornicing, the smaller detailed jobs, but I’llbe quiet so I don’t disturb guests. Then I can quote you for the remaining work, but nothing there is urgent, unless you choose to renovate more suites.’
I let out a whoop. While the hotel is coming along nicely, there’s still scaffolding in hallways and tradespeople everywhere; there’s plastic covering our coffee station trolleys, and there are boxes of books stacked in a corner of the guest lounge.
‘Merci,JP.’ I swipe at sudden tears. With only ten days to go, it brings this stark reality into focus. We are going to make it! Not only has JP and his team completed their work to a high degree of quality, but they’ve also done it fast and made me fall in love with what this place will become. A sanctuary for bibliophiles, a haven for Francophiles. A cosy, welcoming hotel for those who want to stay in one of the best locations in Paris.
We finish our walkaround, noting a few extra jobs that need to be completed, and JP goes off to have a team meeting with his crew.
I note the time and head to the guest lounge area and find Manon there already, wearing a black pant suit. I give her a slow up and down and she laughs. ‘Oui, back to the real me.’
‘How did dinner with the parents go?’
Manon uses a screwdriver to tighten up a brass handle onto a navy-blue bedside table. ‘Well, I dressed in your elegant but extremely dull ensemble.’
‘Stop, I can’t handle all these compliments.’ Switching the silver handles out makes all the difference; the bedsides now have a regal air to them. Well, regal if you knew how bad they looked before paint and flea market-find brass handles.
‘Hismamanis one of those tactile types. She grabbed hold of my hands as soon as I walked through the door, squeezed and hugged. It was… a lot, but I liked it. I suppose, as much as I can like all of that touching.’
‘Hismamansounds really lovely and welcoming.’
‘And she blurted, “Why are you dressed so pretentiously like that?”’
I bristle. ‘Wow, Manon. My clothing isn’t that bad!’
‘Non,she didn’t mean it like that. She follows me on Instagram and wondered why I went from wearing all black to arriving in white cashmere. She told me I should never change who I am, especially for their sake.’
I lift a brow. ‘I did say all that to you as well.’
‘Oui, but you’re not the one I’m trying to impress.’
As always, I’m slightly bamboozled by my cousin. ‘OK.’
Manon’s eyes shine with happiness. ‘We had a great night. Hismamanis hilarious, cheeky and silly and not at all like I imagined she’d be. After dinner we went to the Fete de Noël and had so much fun playing the sideshow games. I’m going to fit in just fine in that family.’
‘I knew you would. Everyone loves you, Manon, and if they don’t then there’s something wrong with them.’
‘Merci.’ She accepts the compliment as if it’s fact, which draws a small smile from me. Oh, to have Manon’s confidence in life. ‘I’m sorry to say, there was a slight accident and your cashmere coat came off a little worse for wear.’
I groan. ‘Red wine?’
She drops her head in mock shame. ‘Oui. This is why black is the safest option for me.’
‘Gah. Did you soak it?’
‘Uh-huh.’ She surveys her nails.
‘You did not. Where is it?’
