Hotel Vendome

“I know, I know,” he said, looking exhausted, and ten minutes later the first of the two decorators arrived. Her credentials were excellent. She had decorated some of the most important homes in New York, a hotel in San Francisco, two in Chicago, and one in New York, and all were of similar size and feeling as the Vendome. Hugues discussed the project with her for a few minutes and was instantly bored. She talked about fabrics, textures, window treatments, and paint tones in a way that put him to sleep. She was in her mid to late fifties, had a fleet of people working for her, and could easily have done the job, but nothing she said excited him. He had Jennifer take her upstairs to look at the four suites, and when she came back, she said he had to throw everything out. It was all dated and passe and yesterday’s news. She wanted to give the suites a whole new look. What she said sounded too extreme to him, and he suspected that the bill she would present would be too. He asked her to give him an estimate, understanding that the fabrics and furniture he chose would be a variable, but he wanted a range, and told her he’d get back to her after that. But nothing about his meeting with her had inspired him to give her the job. And he looked bored when Jennifer walked back in.

“I have a feeling she could wind up costing you a fortune,” Jennifer commented, and Hugues agreed.

“She wore me out just listening to her. If her decorating is as boring as she is, the suites will look worse than they do now,” and they didn’t look bad. Jennifer agreed with him, and twenty minutes later she escorted the second woman in. She was younger than the first one, looked quiet and conservative, and had a briefcase full of sketches, swatches, and suggestions for him. She had already looked at some of the suites online and had some interesting ideas that, much to his surprise, he actually liked. And she gave the project some energy and life.

Her name was Natalie Peterson, and she was best known for doing important homes in Southampton and Palm Beach, and a few in New York City, and she had done one small, elegant hotel in Washington, D.C. She was thirty-nine years old, so her list of accomplishments wasn’t as long as the previous woman’s, but she had won several awards for her design work. She was impressive in her presentation and delivery, and he liked her enthusiasm. She seemed vital and alive, and she had a twinkle in her eye.

“What made you want to undertake this project?” she asked him, which was an interesting question. “What’s your underlying goal? Keeping the hotel up to date, enhancing its reputation, charging more for the suites than you do now?”

“Keeping my daughter happy because she wants me to do it, and if I don’t start it before she comes home for Christmas, she’ll have my head.” Natalie laughed at the honest answer and smiled at him across the desk.

“She sounds like a young lady with a lot of influence on her father,” she said wisely.

“Absolutely. She’s been the woman in my life since she was four years old.” From what he said, Natalie wondered if he was widowed or divorced.

“She’s away at college?”

He nodded with a proud expression. “She’s at the Ecole Hoteliere, the school for hotelry in Lausanne. She just started a week ago. I was opposed to it, even though I went there myself.”

“You don’t like the school?” Natalie asked with interest. She was curious about him. He looked like a serious, successful man, and he was obviously crazy about his child.

“I don’t like having her so far away. And I didn’t want her in the hotel business, but she’s very determined. It’s going to be a long two years, waiting for her to come home, unless she does her internship in hospitality experience here at home. I can’t wait to have her back,” he said honestly with a wistful expression that touched her heart. He seemed very vulnerable when he said it. She had read his bio, and knew his experience and that he had just turned fifty-two. He looked younger than his years and was in great shape. “Do you have children?” he asked her then, and she smiled.

“No, I don’t. I’ve never been married. I’ve been too busy building my business, and now it feels a little late for that. And I won’t be home with sick kids or dealing with teenage crises instead of doing your job.” He laughed at what she said, and she seemed comfortable with who she was. “Your daughter seems like a good person to keep happy. Why don’t we start work on one of the suites and see how it goes? We might even get it finished before she comes home for Christmas, if we get decent delivery dates on the fabrics. And I like the furniture you have. I’d like to incorporate it in the new designs.”