He stopped in front of the window overlooking the lake and crossed the room. He picked up on the third ring. “Hello, Christopher Lewis speaking.”
“Mr. Lewis, there is a woman downstairs claiming to own the Inn and requesting the Gardenia Suite.”
Christopher smiled. He appreciated the tone of outrage in the concierge, Mr. Brixen’s, voice and could picture Ashley waltzing in through the door, making quite the entrance. She’d done exactly as he asked. So why did he have a strange tingle along his spine like he wouldn’t approve of the result?Because she’s never really followed any of my plans without her own spin.He cleared his throat. “Where did she go?”
“She walked straight to the restaurant, sir. Should I have someone run after her and kick her out?”
A knock pounded on the door.
“No, thank you, Mr. Brixen. Please see that the room is ready for her, and I will take care of the situation.” He hung up the phone and sat behind his desk. He interlaced his hands on the desktop, assuming a position of cool confidence and intractable power. “Enter.”
Pierre Leduc strolled into the room, leaving the door ajar behind him.
“Pierre? Is everything all right?” Christopher asked. It was unlike the man to leave his post. Ever.
“She’s back.” Pierre sputtered and took several steps into the room, twisting his hands together. “She’s sitting in the restaurant.”
“It’s really her?” Christopher tried to instill his voice with as much wonder and surprise as he thought others expected. The truth was, he didn’t overly concern himself with outside opinions. He felt like the husband on a crime show being interrogated by the police. They would analyze his reaction for guilt or innocence ad nauseam for the entire sixty-minute program. He owed everyone a show.
Pierre nodded.
At least Christopher convinced one person. Besides himself. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of his heartbeat skipping. “Very well,” he said. He pulled open a drawer and found the folder he’d spent last night compiling. He pushed away from his desk, and gripping the portfolio in his hands, strode toward the center of his office and waved to the door. “Please lead the way, Pierre.”
The maître d’ turned and looked slightly more confident than he had upon arrival.
Besides a few cleaning staff, Pierre was one of the last people who remembered Ashley. Everyone had heard of the epic fights between Xavier and his only child. Only a few employees remained who had witnessed the rows.
If Pierre expected a big, elaborate show of force from Christopher, the maître d’ would be disappointed. He would officially start the way he meant to go on. Giving her a chance, for show, while working behind the scenes to ensure a settlement everyone could live with.
He knew she wouldn’t be happy with it. But neither would he if he was honest. He never wanted to be in a situation where one of them won at the other’s expense. But Xavier took that choice away from them.
He followed the maître d’ down the guest stairs and corridors.
Pierre turned toward him at the base of the stairs in the lobby. “Do you think she’ll really attempt a takeover?”
Christopher smiled, adjusting his grip on the documents he prepared for her job. “Doubtful.”
He nodded at the staff and strode through the lobby and into the restaurant. Her light laugh danced in the air, bouncing off the crystals in the chandeliers and mixing with the clinking of utensils in a symphony of pleasure. He hung along the walnut paneled walls, skirting the perimeter of the room.
Everyone else hung on her words.
She’d amassed quite the gathering in the center of the room.
Servers and guests turned toward her or stood nearby.
With broad hand gestures and energetic facial expressions, she told some sort of lively story. She was charming. It was hard to turn away from her under normal circumstances. When she was on her best behavior, she was the most captivating person in the room. He ground together his molars.
He forgot about that. If he’d expected her to be off her game after he rescued her, he’d underestimated who he was dealing with. He worked hard to develop his go-to small talk starters, filling a notebook in his desk with ideas. Greeting guests didn’t come naturally, but he attempted to improve his people skills and practiced for hours. She started on top. With a sincerity to her cleverness, she was witty and warm, never condescending or off-putting. How? He’d analyzed her for years and never learned her secrets.
“Sir?” Pierre whispered at his side.
“Not here. Let her know her suite will be ready, and I’ll stop by later. Please tell Mr. Brixen?”
Pierre nodded and backed away.
Christopher gave himself one last look at her in her element. And then he continued along the perimeter until he reached the glass door leading to the porch and saw himself out. He made his way to inspect the lighthouse and look for clues. He’d almost welcome a ghost today. Rather an apparition to confront than the ghosts plaguing him from inside his head.
He didn’t get to simper and smile and order room service. He had a business to run. Unlike his wife, he had control. And he wouldn’t forget it.
