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“You may clear the table,” she tells him.

“Would you like the dessert menu?” he asks us after the plates have been taken away and he’s used a tiny little dustpan and brush to wipe away any crumbs from the tablecloth.

“No. I’ll take the bill.” She smiles at me, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’ve kept you long enough. Theo said you had work to do this afternoon. I’ll have my driver take you straight back.”

“Thank you.”

The waiter returns with the bill. We both reach for it. But she gently slides it toward herself, and signs it without even looking at the total. “My treat,” she tells me. “I believe I have you to thank for my son coming to our Christmas party.”

For a moment she sounds genuine. Maybe the trip to Norfolk won’t be so bad after all.

At least when I’m there I’ll have Theo to provide some kind of human shield for me.

14

THEO

I glance at my phone, half expecting to see an SOS call from Georgia. I should never have let my mother drag her off for lunch.

I swear I’m getting a headache.

“Sorry I’m late.” Saskia Mills walks in. She’s our PR person, working for the top agency in London, and she was the one I called the other night when Mateo informed me a journalist had been in the hotel asking questions.

About my father. About me. Whether there are any cashflow issues. Enough to raise alarm bells and have me calling Saskia and our other board members to see if they’d been contacted.

They hadn’t.

“No problem. What have you got for me?” I ask her.

“Not much.” She wrinkles her nose. “Whoever’s asking questions is keeping their head well below the parapet. I’ve called my contacts on all the national newspapers, and the usual current affairs shows and nothing has come up.” She frowns. “I don’t like that one bit.” She clears her throat and takes a sip of her coffee. We’re in the meeting room on the top floor of her office building. It’s easier to talk candidly here than at the hotel.

“So you have no idea what it’s about?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “Tell me exactly what the journalist asked again.”

I lean forward, thinking back to my conversation with Mateo. “It was two nights ago. A young woman, he said. Asked if I was at the hotel, or my father, and when Mateo said we weren’t, she started asking about how often we showed our face on site. Whether my father was an integral part of the running of the hotel, that kind of thing.”

“And Mateo said nothing?”

“Of course.” I nod. “He’s very discreet. But she also tried with a couple of the reception staff. They swear they said nothing.”

“But you don’t trust them as much.” Saskia lets out a breath. “Okay, so let’s think about this another way. Is there any kind of scandal you think they may know about?”

“What kind of scandal?” I frown.

“I don’t know. Are you dating somebody you shouldn’t be? Is your father? Any money problems at the hotel?”

I blink. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

I swallow. “I spoke to my father. I asked him this. He was categorical in his denial.” Because of course that’s the first thing I did. My father isn’t exactly a loyal man. We all know he’s had affairs. My mother does, too. She just pretends they don’t exist. “He promised me there’s nothing going on.”

“Okay.” Saskia smiles. “Well that’s good at least. And the business? It’s all going well?”

“We could be doing better, but that’s hospitality.” I shrug. “We’re liquid. We’re making some changes for the better. There’s nothing of concern.”

She nods. “Okay. Well all I can do is keep my ear to the ground. And have you do the same.” Our eyes meet. “And maybe ask your father again.”