Love Me Or Leave Me (11 page)

‘Well, then. In that case, it seems my reputation as a complete bastard has gone before me,’ Rob says dryly, mouth twitching down at the corners. ‘I’m not here to fire hard-working staff because you’re all working flat out on last minute snags.’

Okay, there is just no fecking response to that. So I just stand there, casting around wildly for some change of subject.

‘Well, you’ll be delighted to know I can’t even stay for long, actually,’ he says with a half-smile, like he’s actually enjoying my discomfort. ‘I’m actually en route back to London.’

‘Oh?’ I ask stupidly. ‘You mean, you’re not going to be around here for a few days, at least …?’

‘Not this time, I’m afraid. I’ve been in Milan since yesterday you see, and just happened to have a chink of time between flight connections today, so I arranged to catch my flight back to London from here. I wanted to see for myself just how the place is shaping up.’

‘Well … in that case, let me give you the full tour.’

‘Lead the way.’

You’re in control here, Chloe, don’t forget that
, I tell myself firmly. And yes, so maybe this is a work-in-progress and maybe there’s a pile of tweaks and snags that we’re still working through. Like the coffee tables we ordered still haven’t arrived for the drawing room yet. Plus the fact that the plumbers are still working on the bathroom fittings, in at least three of the en-suites upstairs. And the electricians, who still haven’t quite finished yet, have left so many wires and cross cables strewn across the floor of the dining room, it looks like someone spilt ten plates of spaghetti in there.

I could go on and on, but come on, it’s a brand new hotel and we don’t even open for another two weeks yet! Surely even as notorious a perfectionist as Rob McFayden has to make allowances here? It will all come together in time. Because it just has to. It’s a good, sobering thought, and the more I keep telling myself that, the more I actually believe it.

Wordlessly, like he’s on a very tight schedule, he strides a few paces ahead of me as we make our way from the elegant hallway where Reception is, to the lounge area just on the left. It’s an old drawing room that our interior design team have worked wonders on. They’ve completely converted it from a slightly cold and forbidding Georgian reception room into a relaxed, warm and welcoming space, with a huge open fireplace, bookcases stuffed with leather-bound books and a stunning Louise Kennedy chandelier that never fails to take my breath away. The furniture is fabulous too, sofas covered in gorgeous lavender damask fabric, long cream silk cushions and curtains to match and tastefully chosen paintings dotting the walls. The designers really have thought of everything; even the fabrics have been carefully covered in protective plastic, till the builders finally leave us in peace.

The Lavender Room, as we’ve taken to calling it and I’m bloody proud of what we’ve done here; it’s elegant and graceful, yet so comfortable and inviting too; the kind of place designed to chill out in. Just perfect for the clientele we’re hoping to attract. An awful lot of work went into it, but instead of having a good, thorough nose around, Rob just strides around the perimeter, checks the view from the window, plonks down on one of the sofas, as though testing it for squidginess, and then is straight back up on his feet again. Like he’s seen all he wants to and is anxious to move on. Fast.

‘So,’ I tell him, flailing my arms around like a tour guide, ‘you’ll notice the fireplace in here has been completely restored and the chandelier was specially ordered in from …’

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah. Lovely. Great. Purple walls, whatever.’

‘Eh, actually they’re lavender.’

‘You’ll have to forgive me,’ he says dryly, ‘but then I doubt there’s many guys who’d successfully be able to distinguish between purple and lavender. Okay to keep moving?’

‘Emm … riiight. But, you know there’s still an awful lot in here I’d like to point out to you …’

‘Apologies for this, Chloe,’ he cuts across me, ‘but I haven’t got long till I’ve to get back to the airport, I’m afraid. For the moment at least, this needs to be just an initial whistle-stop tour. So come on, impress me.’

‘Well sure, but don’t you want to know when the painters will finish the skirting boards in here? Or why the …’

‘Do I look like the kind of guy who’s interested in skirting boards?’

There’s just no right answer to that.

‘I haven’t time to be a micromanager,’ he goes on, striding for the door so fast, I nearly have to sprint to keep up. ‘Which is exactly why you’re here, you see. Your job is to worry about all the ins and outs for me. Mine is to oversee it as and when I can, and to bollock everyone out of it, if necessary. And here, so far at least, I can see I don’t have to. So come on, show me the bar now.’

I’m just trying to figure out if that was an actual compliment or not, but there’s no time. Two seconds later and we’re on the move to the fabulous bar area, which is also just off Reception, right behind the Lavender Room. It’s old-fashioned in style, completely in keeping with the age of the house, mahogany and wood panelled. Which, with full credit to the design team, is looking remarkably well. Deep, plush green leather sofas are dotted around with a pale green silk fabric covering the walls. It’s going to be stunning, completely breathtaking and yet once again, Rob says nothing, just strides around, taking it all in and nodding every now and then. Jeez, I think. All the money this is costing him and he’s not inspecting it more closely?

Tommy Kennedy, our ridiculously attractive barman is in situ, unloading crates and setting up behind the bar, so I introduce him to Rob.

‘Howaya,’ Tommy grins cheekily as they shake hands, but then Tommy’s just not the type to get remotely fazed by the fact that his boss’s boss has just landed in on top of him.

Tommy is by far the youngest staff member we’ve got round here, just twenty-four, built like a rugby prop forward and with a Kerry accent that makes absolutely everything he says sound adorable. Chris and I interviewed him a few weeks back and hired him on the spot. He’s a fantastic mixologist and it’s always a bonus, as she wisely pointed out, to have a barman who looks like something out of a Gillette ad in any hotel. Particularly one where a whole lot of soon-to-be single women will be floating about.

‘Good to meet you,’ Rob says, ‘you certainly look busy.’

‘Ah sure, all in a day’s work, boy. You know yourself.’

Rob just nods and immediately strides past a fabulously relaxed seating area and throws open double doors that lead to a terrace outside with steps leading down to the garden below. It’s my favourite part of the whole building actually, where I figure either a) smokers can knock themselves out or b) our soon-to-be-divorced guests can take a little breather to chill out in the enclosed, landscaped garden, far away from all talk about lawyers and problems and financial settlements.

At least, that’s the
plan
. Once the garden is finished, that is. But right now, tiny and all as it is, it’s more of a mud bath than actual garden and the landscapers are still working away on it, looking scarily like months and not weeks away from completion.

At that thought, my anxiety levels shoot upwards just as the landscaper calls cheekily up at me, as we step outside and look down at all the work that’s going on. ‘Howaya Chloe!’ he waves. ‘Any chance of a cuppa tea there, love?’

‘Be with you shortly, Jack!’ I smile back, then turn to where Rob is right behind me, arms folded, quick, grey eyes taking in absolutely everything. ‘Well, you’ve got to look after your staff, don’t you?’ I shrug, trying to laugh it off.

‘Certainly do,’ he nods, eyes busily scanning every last little thing.

‘Now okay, I know it’s all looking ages away from being ready in time, but trust me, it will be. Jack’s got it all in hand,’ I say, trying to sound confident about it. ‘Don’t you, Jack?’ I call down to him.

‘Givvus a chance, will you love? Can’t go any faster!’ he yells cheerfully back. ‘And where’s me tea?’

‘You know, I really think it’ll be stunning out here,’ I go on, talking to Rob’s back now as he paces up and down the smoking terrace, as though he’s testing it for length. ‘I mean, we’re in the dead centre of the city right now, and just listen, you can hardly even hear the traffic going by, can you? It’ll be a lovely oasis of peace and tranquillity, wait and see. A place where …’

‘Chloe,’ he says. ‘It’s okay. I get it. Yes, it’s gonna work.’

‘Yes, but don’t you want me to tell you how it’s going to look when it’s finished?’

‘You’re doing it again.’

He’s stopped pacing now and is looking at me intently.

‘Doing what?’

‘Sounding like I’m only here to do a spot check so I can catch you all out and start firing people. Just because there’s a bit of mud in the back garden and a few wires loose?’

‘Emm … well …’

‘You have to remember; I’ve been in this business a long time. I’ve seen countless hotels in the weeks before opening, in a far worse state, believe me. Sometime when I’m not rushing off, remind me to tell you the story of the Ferndale Beach Hotel in Dubai. It’s the whole reason my hair’s as grey as it is, you know.’

I smile at this and start to relax a little.

‘And every hotel without exception was subsequently perfect when they needed to be, just as here will too. So don’t worry. Because I’m certainly not.’

‘Okay, then. If you say so.’

Am I wrong, or could there possibly have been a grain of praise buried in there? I think there might have been, but it’s hard to tell with this guy. And if he only knew what I was thinking right now.

There you are looking at me now, judging me, assessing me, but do you even realize how badly I want this to be a success too? This job is the thing that picked me up off the floor, the whole reason why I didn’t have to lie low in London any more. Believe me no one, not even you, Rob McFayden, wants this to work more than I do.

‘Come on then,’ he says briskly, snapping me out of my thoughts. ‘Quick tour of the Games Room and then onto the top two floors.’

The Games Room, just a short flight of stairs down from Reception, thankfully meets with his approval, but then it’s kind of been designed to be boy heaven. There’s deep leather easy chairs dotted around the place, a full-size snooker table and a giant screen TV, which I’m guessing will be tuned to Sky Sports more often than not. Our lighting designer is planning on dim, low lights in here and I just know it’s going to be something very special.

Rob nods his silent approval, so then I quickly lead him onto the magnificent oak panelled library on the ground floor. It’s utterly breathtaking in here with its high bookcases and comfy armchairs. The atmosphere is peaceful and calming and so quiet which I’m hoping will help ease some of the tension our guests are bound to be going through.

Just a curt, ‘Okay, we’re done here,’ nod from Rob while I’m still waxing lyrical about leather wingback armchairs.

Right then, hint taken. So that much done, I lead him up the restored Georgian staircase (still in the process of being carpeted), which he takes impatiently, two at a time. Next thing, he’s power walking through the bright, airy breakfast room, with its soft yellow wallpaper and rich, deep cashmere rugs in the most luxurious nude colours. So soft and so opulent under my feet, that I actually feel a bit shifty for having the cheek to walk on it with shoes on.

Rob doesn’t seem to notice though, just takes it all in, then he’s straight onto the gorgeous yellow drawing room just behind it and finally up onto another floor to where the relaxation room and bedrooms are. The relaxation room is one of my favourites, mainly because when I described the atmosphere of calm, soothing tranquillity I was after to our design team, they amazingly were able to create it exactly as it had been in my mind’s eye. It’s not all that big a space really, and unlike the rest of the building, it’s quite modern in style, but it has the most gorgeous, massive floor-to-ceiling window, so is often completely bathed in sunlight and overlooks what will be the beautiful gardens.

My ultimate vision here is to have long comfy recliners dotted just in front of the window, where guests can stretch out, relax and just take in the panoramic views down onto the gardens below. God, but wouldn’t I have loved somewhere like this to crawl away to and lock out the world, after Frank – well, you know the rest.

‘Now of course, it’s not quite finished yet,’ I tell Rob, ‘but when it is, just imagine this whole space almost like a health spa, with aromatherapy candles dotted around and …’

‘… And I think we can safely assume it’s a room where ladies will congregate, as opposed to blokes,’ he says, finishing my sentence for me. Then adds with a hint of a smile, ‘But then I suppose the lads will doubtless monopolize the Games Room, so fair’s fair.’

And two minutes later, we’re up another floor to the bedrooms, just a dozen in total. Wordlessly, he takes it all in, stopping only to check the flat screen TV’s are all working or to make sure the sinks in the bathrooms are all in immaculate nick.

Finally, we’re back downstairs at Reception again and now he’s calling a taxi to take him back to the airport. Exactly forty-five minutes, I calculate. That’s precisely how long he’s spent in here. A lightning quick march around the kitchen downstairs, a brief hello to his HR woman, who sits bolt upright and smiles tersely when she sees him, and now he’s ready to go.

‘Good,’ Rob says, as I walk, or more accurately race after him to the main door and we step outside together into the warm summer sunshine. ‘Good work.’

‘Well, we’re getting there.’

‘You know something, Chloe?’ he says, turning to face me full-on now as, right on cue, a cab obediently pulls up outside.

‘Yes?’

‘I’m an intuitive kind of guy. Gut instinct. That’s how I tend to operate. Have done so all my life. I knew from the minute I heard about the divorce hotel concept that it could work anywhere and I just know that this is going to fly for us.’

‘I certainly hope you’re right!’ is all I can say back.

‘Just remember, this is your big chance, Chloe,’ he says, eyes really drilling into mine now. ‘But I know you won’t let me down.’