Bella read through his suggestions; they seemed obvious now, written in black and white, and she felt a little foolish she hadn’t thought of them herself. New bedding, curtains, rugs for the rooms to knit the theme together. Some original art or sculpture, with a theme. Maybe a band or quartet for the party where she’d make her presentation, to play while the guests milled around. Her cakes (he’d drawn a smiley face next to this entry) and specialist coffees, mini cafetières for each of the rooms.
‘So, like you say, each of the Hotel Club places seems to have something that draws them together. You need to find a theme, then we can create a showroom – something that really shows it off.’
‘Maybe the theme could be Paris?’
He shook his head. ‘Too dull. I mean, maybe if the hotel weren’t in Paris, it would be kind of cute. But they have Paris already.’
‘Yeah, I see what you mean. I’ll have to think.’ She looked at him. ‘Thanks, though. This is great.’
‘It’s nothing, really.’
‘It is to me. I was— just stuck, I guess. Panicked.’
‘It’s nothing you couldn’t have come up with.’
‘Maybe, but not under pressure. Seriously, I owe you big time.’
‘Ah, just buy me another coffee,’ he said, draining his cup.
‘Brad…’ she said.
‘Sorry.’ He held his hands up. ‘I’ll take an enormous cheque too. Or, you know. A snack.’
She went up to the counter and came back shortly with another coffee and a muffin.
‘Will this cover your costs?’ she joked.
He laughed, looking at the chocolate muffin in its dark brown paper. ‘Ah, I think that’ll just about do. Although I usually charge two muffins an hour.’
‘Two muffins an hour!’ she said, slipping into the chair opposite and lifting her own fresh coffee from the tray. ‘Things really are expensive over here.’
The two hours they’d spent together had flown by.
It was only 10a.m. but she already felt lighter than she had, as if she might be able to relax this weekend, safe in the knowledge that she would cope – maybe even thrive – on Monday. She took a bite out of her muffin – it was freshly baked and crumbled deliciously in her mouth. She let out an audible ‘Mmm.’
‘That good?’
‘Yeah, just a bit.’
‘You’re not going to go all Meg Ryan on me?’ He raised an eyebrow.
‘It’s notthatgood.’
There was an awkward moment in which they both pictured the famous scene fromWhen Harry Met Sally.
Then, ‘So what business are you actually in? I know you have premises here? Or offices? But I have no idea what you actually do,’ she said.
He took a sip of his drink, regarding her over the top, then set it down as if suddenly the mug were heavier than it had been before. ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘You got me there.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Ah, nothing.’ His shoulders slumped slightly and he let out a breath, looked at her. ‘Look, I was going to give you the usual bullshit. But I guess we’re all about truth here, right?’
She nodded.
‘The others, they probably said I’m some sort of hotshot CEO, right?’
‘Yeah, something like that.’
