They walked up to the front desk. Kate smoothed her skirt, hoping her hair still looked okay. Charles Brassard, the hotel manager, came out to greet them. He looked Kate up and down surreptitiously and gave her an approving look. She had passed! She felt elated. Then Brassard looked at Grant. She could see him wanting to raise an eyebrow, but he was too professional.
“Mademoiselle Thurlow and Monsieur Holbrook, I presume,” he said in French.
“Jones,” Grant replied. “Your hotel is very lovely,” he continued in French. “We just came from Patek. I’ve never been to Geneva, but it is an impeccable city.”
The manager gave him a pleased smile. “Your French is quite good,” he said. “You didn’t learn it in Europe, though?”
“From the West African immigrants in the military.”
“I see. An officer?”
“I’m just enlisted as a sergeant.”
“That’s very impressive for the common soldier, and an American, no less. Someone in my line of work is not often surprised; however, you have surprised me today. If I may personally show you to your rooms?”
“Kate says that this is one of her favorite hotels,” Grant said, continuing their conversation in French as they followed the hotelier to the elevators.
Kate was very impressed. Grant’s French was much more than conversational.
“Yes, we see her and your father here often. Here we are.” They were on the eighth floor. Charles Brassard opened a set of double doors revealing a suite with a sitting room, two bedrooms, and a shared bathroom.
“This particular suite was designed by Karl Lagerfeld when we did our most recent renovation. It is an award-winning design.”
“It’s beautiful!” Kate said. “I haven’t stayed in this room yet. What a treat!”
“We had a cancellation. I thought you might prefer it to the two rooms you booked.”
“Oh yes,” Kate said. She took in the room. The walls were a rich gray Venetian plaster with ornate trim and large floor-to-ceiling windows framed by a silvery brocaded fabric. She crossed over the plush area rugs covering the hardwood floor and into the bathroom. It was covered from floor to ceiling in a white, dark-gray-veined marble. The mirror, the counter, and the tub, it was all out of this striking marble and punctuated by brass accents.
“Isn’t this amazing?” Kate gushed.
“It is… impressive,” Grant replied.
“I will leave you to enjoy the suite,” Brassard told them. “Would you also care to have refreshments sent up?”
“Yes, please. Something light, though. We’re going to go for a walk in a bit.”
“Of course. Right away.”
“Isn’t this perfect?” Kate said, twirling around the room. “It’s like a fairy tale, and this bathroom.” She kicked off her shoes and sprang into the empty tub. “I could live in here.”
“I need my sunglasses,” Grant said, slipping his aviators out of his pocket. “All the brilliant-white marble and the wavy gray lines are making my eyes hurt.”
He handed Kate her sunglasses, and she put them on, the large frames obscuring most of her face as she leaned back in the empty tub. Grant sat on the edge of the stone basin. Kate felt like a little kid and beamed when Grant grinned down at her.
“This is the life.” She sighed. She wiggled her toes for a few moments. Then she sent Grant to open the door when the bellhop brought a tray of food and tea to their suite.
“Serve me in my tub, Sergeant,” Kate said to Grant playfully. He cut up bits of bread and cheese and meats and fed her. She nibbled his fingertips and kissed his hands.
“They have the best food here.” She sighed and sipped her tea. “You were remarkable, by the way. I didn’t know you were fluent in French.”
“I’m not. I know just enough to get in trouble,” he replied.
“Charles Brassard is making a name for himself in the boutique hotel industry,” Kate told Grant. “He knows absolutely everyone. He will tell everybody how impressed he was with Mr. Holbrook’s son. People will talk—in a good way.”
“Help me up,” she said to Grant after they had sat there a few moments more. He easily pulled her out of the enormous tub. “We’re going for a walk. The weather’s nice. It’s not too chilly. Aren’t you going to put on your watch?” she asked him as Grant put his shoes back on.
Grant grimaced. “I can’t.”
