‘Oui.’ I gaze around the spacious room. ‘A literary sanctuary.’
‘Uh, but what about the bar idea?’
‘It can be both. Look at the size of this room with those big picture windows with a pretty view out to the busy street and the gates of Jardin du Luxembourg. The realtor suggested a theme and I think we’ve just discovered it!’
‘We have?’
I clap my hands together. ‘We’ll make this place a haven for book lovers! We can provide a wide range of literature to suit every taste…’ My mind spins with ideas to add bookish elements throughout the hotel itself.
Manon considers it before saying, ‘It’s not exactly Paris-centric though, is it? Isn’t that what guests want? The full Parisian experience?’
‘Well…’ I tap my chin, considering it. ‘We’ll make the hotel an ode to Paris, highlighting books set here. We’ll be spoilt for choice as we build our library. From classic tomes, romances, memoirs, travel guides; the list is endless. So many Christmas books are set in Paris!’
Manon’s expression is animated as she comprehends the vision. ‘And not just French authors. It’ll be a nod to all the literary greats who made France their home! Instead of room numbers, the suites could be named after authors. The library too. What about “The F Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald Library”? His bookTender is the Nightis set in the French Riviera.’
I consider it. ‘Or we could name it after Zelda? Forget Scott.’ I smile, loving the idea. Zelda was a writer too, but that’s often overlooked in the history books. I take my phone from my pocket and google Zelda’s name, looking for details about her. ‘What about a direct quote from the woman herself made fromone of those warm gauzy neon light word signs: “Nobody has ever measured, not even poets, how much the human heart can hold.”’
Manon’s eyes sparkle. ‘Magnifique.’
‘We can stock her book for guests, memoirs written about her too. Hang photographs of her. Make this space an ode to Zelda and the jazz age. Although… maybe we should feature a French writer for the library rather than an American? If this room is to be ourpièce de résistance,it should be Paris-centric like you suggested.’ I bite down on a smile, excited by the prospect of making this room a showstopper and having a theme we can carry throughout the hotel.
Manon nods. ‘Oui, a French-born author is best to give the library the flair we’re after.’
And just like that we’ve hit on an idea that’s sure to appeal. ‘We’re bibliophiles who often shut the door on the outside world to sink into a book that transports us away from reality and the mundanity of real life. Paris is a popular tourist hotspot, but bookworms, like us, also enjoy time to relax and read on holidays. After a long, manic day taking in the sights of Paris, our book-loving guests will return with aching feet and can enjoy perusing the many novels on display around the hotel before sprawling on a chaise in front of a roaring fire, or reading in the comfort of their suites, blocking out the noise and the chaos of the city for a few hours. We can offer charcuterie and dessert boards. Bottles of wine. Each suite will have a coffee station for those who prefer coffee, tea, and hot chocolate. For our Christmas soft launch, we’ll offer gingerbread coffee, pumpkin-spiced lattes. Mulled wine and eggnog in the library. I want them to feel like this place is a cosy retreat. They can escape into fictional worlds with all the creature comforts they desire.’
‘Can I be a guest instead of your helper? I want to sink into my suite with a good book, a glass of wine and a dessert board.’
I laugh and shake my head as I try and keep up with the ideas flashing in my mind. ‘We can hang bookish artwork that we print ourselves. Make bookmarks. Find literary mugs for the coffee stations. Reading pillows for Kindles. Bamboo bath caddies to rest books and wine. Annotation sets. We can wrap books in butcher paper and feature “Blind date with a book”. The list is endless, and most of those things are inexpensive but will really highlight the literary aspect of the hotel.’
‘Uh-huh. And you’re just doing the place up to sell.’ Manon’s voice is laced with sarcasm, but even she seems swept away by the idea of what the hotelcouldbecome. How can she not get carried away by the dream of designing a space for word nerds, like us? While Manon and I are bookworms, we read different genres. My cousin prefers gritty true crime or terrifying horror stories, and when she’s had her fill of those she switches back to classics, whereas I enjoy a comforting romance, memoirs, or a historical saga. A classic or two every now and then.
‘Iamgoing to sell.And I’m hoping the literary theme is enough to make that sale happen so I can get back to my normal night owl writerly life, where the only thing I have to worry about isfictionalbroken hearts. They’re so much easier to mend.’
We continue our tour into the dining room. It’s as bold as the other areas with a brown, green and yellow colour scheme, but the mahogany furniture is sturdy and in good repair. ‘Paint and new drapes in here. Not much really, aside from a deep clean.’ The closer I look the more my enthusiasm grows. It’s not as bad as it first appeared. The kitchen itself is practical and updated, all stainless-steel functionality. The inspection report cleared all electrics and appliances so that’s one less thing to worry about.
‘Are you going to run this as a restaurant?’
‘Oui. I suppose we’ll have to interview for a chef, since I have no experience with the restaurant side of things, and let’sbe honest, I’m not going to be all that cheerful for a sevena.m. breakfast service.’
I write better at night and, if I’m in the zone, I don’t stop until the early hours of the morning. I’m hoping that zest, that passion, for what I do soon returns. ‘As we discussed before, I like the idea of offering simple fare too, like charcuterie and dessert boards for guests who want to graze while they read. For the opening, we can offer festive Christmas platters with fruit mince pies,Bûche de Noël,chocolate truffles,baked camembert and baguette. Simple stuff that you and I can prepare that won’t have us in a tizzy.’
‘Stop, you’re making me hungry.’
We leave the first floor and head upstairs to the suites. There are eighteen rooms in total. Twelve on the second floor and six on the third floor, which, according to the website, are slightly bigger, catering to larger groups or families.
‘Is it just me or does it feel kind of eerie wandering around a closed hotel?’ Manon asks. ‘I’d have thought the backpackers would be blaring their music, knocking back cheap wine and congregating here somewhere.’
‘Not that you’re into stereotyping or anything, Manon. Perhaps they’re working or out sightseeing?’ I expected we’d run into them too. I’ve spoken on the phone a few times with one of them named Juliette, when she had concerns about a broken window from a late-night reveller. But aside from that I don’t know a lot about them, only that the previous owner trusted them implicitly and I felt comfortable knowing the hotel wasn’t entirely abandoned while we sorted out who got what in the divorce.
With the gloomy lighting and piles of junk, it is a touch eerie in the hotel, but that will all be fixed when we commence work and brighten the place up with fresh paint and clean windows. ‘We should enjoy the quiet while it lasts, I suppose.’
Soon enough, these halls will be filled with the sound of suitcases being trundled along, the chitchat of guests as they plan their Parisian days. It’s so strange to think of myself in this situation, having been tucked away in the quiet, writing for so long, where the only daily concerns I usually deal with is my word count and how to thread my stories together to provide satisfying endings. This new me, hotelier, seems so wildly foreign, but I remind myself it’s not forever.
I open the door to the first of the suites on the second floor. The dusty drapes and grimy windows stop most of the natural light entering the space, making the room dim and uninviting, but that’s easily fixed. Most repairs seem cosmetic, but, really, how would I know? Paint, drapes and bedding. Crockery and a kettle and pod machine for the coffee stations. While the furniture is old, it’s durable. ‘We can get away with painting some of this furniture and updating the chest of drawers with new handles and hardware we can find at flea markets.’ There’s a lot we can do with little money if we’re inventive enough. ‘I’m most nervous about the bathrooms. If they need a full renovation, we’re doomed.’
According to the inspection report, the bathrooms were functional and up to code but dated and would need modification in the future. I hope that means the verydistantfuture and that we can make some tweaks to dress them up a bit without having to remodel them entirely.
‘Plumber I am not.’ Manon crosses her fingers as if hoping we’re not going to be met with a disaster.
