eb93c43e214c621f9157c05b4b6a6878

Chase grinned.“Of course she did.”

And then Grace said,“Papa?”

Now it was Chase’s turn to go all googly-eyed. “Did you hear that? She said ‘Papa!’”

“Yes, she did, didn’t she?” said Odelia, and rocked their sweetheart on her lap. “She’s a clever girl.”

“Oh, my,” said Chase.

And as she and Chase kissed their sweetheart on the chubby cheeks, Max said,“Now that, Dooley, my friend, is true love.”

51. PURRFECT PARIS

CHAPTER 1

The Fritz-Parlton Hotel in the heart of Paris is one of those iconic hotels that are familiar to the weary world traveler, the occasional visitor to the City of Light or the wealthy tycoon looking for the latest in chic and class. The hotel has stood the test of time and has welcomed visitors from across the globe for going on nine decades now, and its luster hasn’t diminished in all those years, nor has its reputation as the epitome of style and hospitality.

Many a celebrity has found within its walls the kind of safe haven they habitually crave, as well as the kind of discretion that is much appreciated. Kings, presidents, movie stars and sports stars are counted amongst its frequent guests, but also regular families. Snobbishness is not part of the hotel’s culture and it caters to one and all, both the famous and the not so famous average Joe and Jane.

On this, a Wednesday morning, the lobby of the Fritz-Parlton was buzzing with life as always, with guests coming and going, and the tastefully opulent lobby the place where it was all happening. Discreetly positioned behind his receptionists was Barnabas Sheffield, the hotel’s longtime manager, under whose capable stewardship this cherished and much-awarded institution had flourished for the past twenty-five years and counting. The Parlton family, who owned the hotel, could rest easy knowing that the jewel in their crown was in excellent hands.

Mr. Sheffield, a bald smallish man with a discreet mustache, stood eyeing the seething mass of humanity with a keen eye. There wasn’t much that eye of his missed, and he now saw that an auspicious meeting was taking place in the center of his very own lobby. For a moment his heart stood still, or as still as it ever could without actually suspending service, for his eagle-eyed vision had spotted no less than four of his favorite actresses in all the world, stars of that treasure of daytime televisionHearts& Roses, only his most favorite TV show ever.

He drew in a quick breath of excitement when he saw that a most fateful reunion was about to take place, for ever sinceHearts& Roses had ceased production ten years before, much to the despair and disappointment of the show’s millions of adoring fans, the rift that had existed between the actresses who had carried the show had been the stuff of legend and tabloids alike.

Amalia Pulpweed, the star of the show, along with her costars Natalie Skinner and Penney Langner, had repeatedly expressed a fervent hope that the show would return to take its rightful place at the top of the ratings. But the fourth member of the four-woman squad that had carried the show to ever greater heights, the always hilarious and adorably irreverent Astra Jacobs, had staunchly thwarted every attempt at a rapprochement and had single-handedly scuppered any chance for the show’s triumphant return.

And so finally Amalia had decided that the only way to move forward was to simply replace Astra with a different actress altogether. A jubilant cry had rung out amongst the fans, and even longtime fan Barnabas, though not a man known for emotional outbursts, had yipped with joy when he discovered that the three women were coming to Paris to film new episodes for the show. But what he hadn’t expected was that Astra Jacobs would also be present. But his eyes weren’t deceiving him: there she was, striding across the lobby, set on a collision course with the trio who had just emerged from the bank of elevators to the right.

And it almost seemed as if a collective hush descended upon the lobby, as people became aware of what was happening. Not unlike two planets colliding, Barnabas wondered with bated breath what the upshot of this fateful meeting would be. Would there be a terrible row breaking out in the heart of his hotel? The kind of catfight rumored to have taken place on the set of the final season?

Unfortunately—or rather, fortunately—nothing of the kind took place that morning. Instead, the three women came to a standstill in the center of the lobby, exchanged a few civilized words with Astra, who stood eyeing them with a regal stance: head held high and her six-foot frame erect and proud, small frosty smiles were affected and then, almost as soon as it had begun, the auspicious meeting was over and the foursome went their separate ways, as they had done at the end of their ten-year undisputed reign of the television ratings.

Barnabas expelled a sigh of relief. He hadn’t even noticed that he’d actually held his breath for as long as the exchange had lasted—only seconds, in fact.