Love Me Or Leave Me (29 page)

Jo shook her head wearily.

‘I appreciate your concern,’ she said tightly, ‘but please bear in mind you’ve only heard one side of the story. Dave’s. Did he tell you the primary reason why we’re here in the first place? What happened between us not so long ago?’

Lucy shook her head, starting to look a bit puzzled now.

‘No, I didn’t think so,’ Jo went on, pouring herself a large, strong coffee. ‘Dave’s an actor, you know. Highly persuasive at getting his side of things across, not so hot on cold, hard facts, I think you’ll find.’

‘It’s not my place to say this, of course,’ said Lucy, ‘but he genuinely seems gutted about losing you.’

‘Then I suggest you go and ask him about what came out in the wash just a few short months ago. And then you can barge in here and start telling me how much my husband loves me.’

‘Jo … please … I’m so sorry if I offended you … I only meant well …’

‘Or maybe you’d like to save all the bother and let me tell you here and now?’

*

Ten minutes later, Lucy said goodbye, too shell-shocked even to apologize any more.

Sweet baby Jesus and the orphans, she thought. And I thought Andrew and I had problems?

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chloe.

‘Chloe, could I have a quick word?’

Barely eight thirty in the morning and if I had a euro for every time someone has said that to me so far today, etc, etc.

I’m in the Yellow Dining Room on the first floor, which is one of my favourites at the hotel; all sun-drenched and airy with the most breathtaking view down onto the Square below. I’m mucking in and generally helping out with service here, plus smoothing over ruffled feathers and making sure no one wants to lodge a complaint after, ahem, the events of the last twelve hours.

Luckily though, most guests are fairly understanding about the fiasco that was last night, with Jayne Ferguson even managing to have a good old giggle about it.

‘You know, I was certain that was my Larry who set off the fire alarm,’ she laughed as I chatted to her over breakfast earlier. ‘Just so he could get to see me in my night attire for the last and final time!’

So far, so good, but you never can tell. Given the fact that everyone under this roof is currently operating on about five hours’ sleep thanks to last night’s mini-drama, would it hardly be any wonder if guests felt like having a good old gripe at me?

‘Chloe?’

And now it’s Dawn who’s caught me this time, my little pet and favourite guest, so I instantly beam down at her and give her my full attention.

‘I just wanted to talk to you … well, about … you know,’ Dawn says, shoving aside a plateful of half-eaten eggs Benedict.

‘I hope you weren’t disturbed too much,’ I smile warmly back down at her, resisting the urge to act like an Irish Mammy and tell her to eat up the rest of her brekkie, like a good girl. ‘But I’m afraid it’s standard procedure though. Once a smoke alarm is sounded, we don’t have any choice but to evacuate the entire building.’

‘No … it was actually
you
I was worried about,’ Dawn says simply, twisting a stray stand of red hair round her fingertips. ‘Such a shitty thing to happen on everyone’s first night – oops! Sorry, didn’t mean to use bad language in a posh place like this.’

‘Don’t you worry,’ I whisper, bending down to her. ‘I said far worse myself last night, believe me.’

‘Can I ask you something?’ she says, in that unflinchingly direct way the girl has. ‘Exactly how much trouble is Kirk in right now?’

And I could be mistaken, but it’s almost like she’s hopeful that the answer will be ‘So much trouble, you wouldn’t believe it.’ And that I’ll tack on for good measure, ‘Don’t you worry, we’ll be packing Kirk’s bags for him, fining him two hundred euro and I’ll personally see to it that he gets a police escort off the premises, just as soon as I’m done in here.’

‘Well, I’m afraid this is a non-smoking hotel,’ is what I actually tell her though, discreetly omitting to mention what it was that he was puffing away on, though I’d say Dawn could hazard a guess. ‘But of course, accidents will happen.’

Subtext: it’s highly unlikely any five-star hotel would ever throw out a paying guest, just because of one slip-up. Providing, of course, he doesn’t try it on again. For a split second, I swear the girl looks a bit disappointed.

‘What a roaring eejit, to go and do something like that,’ she says, twisting a coil of her long red hair round her finger. ‘I mean, how thick do you have to be to realize that a non-smoking hotel means exactly that? And that dope is considered a bit of a no-no in any fancy hotel? Barring you play lead guitar with the E Street Band, that is.’

I don’t answer, mainly because I one hundred per cent agree with her.

‘But … how about you?’ Dawn persists knowingly. ‘Will Kirk’s antics land you in it?’

Actually a very good question. When Rob the Bossman unexpectedly landed in on us last night, there was barely time for he and I to exchange two syllables. Instead he seemed to guess at a glance exactly what was happening and just started to help me and the rest of the staff to escort guests safely back to their rooms. Not a word passed between us otherwise, apart from him briefly grabbing my elbow, steering me towards a taxi and saying, ‘We’ll talk properly tomorrow. Too late right now. Go home and try to get some rest.’

Rest? Yeah, right. Instead I just lay awake in my old bedroom back at my parents’ house thinking, when this weekend is all over, my arse is so fired. Let’s face it, your boss unexpectedly landing in on top of you in the middle of a fire evacuation is never good news. The mental image of twenty-four guests, shivering in nighties and PJ’s in Fitzwilliam Square in the middle of the night, just as a taxi pulls up and Rob McFayden hops out, is going to take a long, long time to dislodge.

For the moment though, here I am in the dining room, coffee pot frozen in my hand while Dawn is still looking expectantly up at me, so I make an effort to act all relaxed and just smile back. ‘Never mind about me,’ I say. ‘You’ve got a busy day ahead, don’t you?’

‘Don’t start,’ she groans, rolling her eyes. Not that I blame the poor kid either. Apart from a conflict resolution session this morning, the bulk of today is all about division of property and joint assets. We’ve booked estate agents, property valuation experts and even an expert on pensions to liaise with each of our couples throughout the day. And it’s gonna be a long ’un.

There’s a brief, fleeting moment where Dawn and I each look at each other, each silently thinking ‘good luck with yours, love. But I don’t think I’d swap places with you for a million quid.’

And then suddenly I’m called away. Rob’s waiting at Reception, one of the wait staff whispers discreetly in my ear, he asked for you the very second he arrived. Was he brandishing a P45 ‘welcome to dole-land’ form with him, I can’t help but wonder?

I take a deep breath and keep repeating the one thing that’s been running through my head all morning. Smoke alarms have a habit of going off and after all, how much trouble would I be in if I
hadn’t
chosen to follow procedure and evacuate? Palms still sweating a fair bit though, I have to say.

Rob is standing by the door by the time I get to Reception, as ever, dressed down in chinos and a light blue shirt. He sees me coming, holds open the main entrance door for me and immediately says, ‘Hi there. You okay?’

‘Yes, Rob. Thanks,’ I answer tersely.

Shite. Am I to be shown the door this fast? I mean … isn’t that illegal, for starters?

‘Good. Come on then. Let’s go. After you.’

‘
Leave?
You want me to leave the hotel?’ I ask him, dumfounded. ‘Because I just can’t! I’ve a meeting in like, half an hour and then it’s all hands on deck for the early lunch sitting –’

‘Oh now, surely you can spare me a few minutes,’ Rob says, looking me straight in the eye, really taking me in, head to toe. ‘By the look of you, I’d say a bit of fresh air wouldn’t go amiss.’

Why does he want me out of the building, I think, my blood pressure suddenly rocketing. To haul me over the coals? Away from the hotel, where I might cause a scene in front of all our guests?

We’re standing right at the bottom of the steps in front of the hotel now and I’m just wondering exactly where he was planning to go anyway, when he suddenly takes a sharp left and says, ‘This way.’

‘Where to?’

‘Well, to get some breakfast, for a start. I’m starving and I’d hazard a guess you haven’t eaten either.’

I don’t argue. I’ve been at the hotel since first light and even then, I only managed to grab a coffee on the run. No time. Throw that in with the fact I’m operating on about four hours’ sleep and I suddenly realize I’m ravenous.

Next thing, Rob and I are power walking side by side to Café Sol on Baggot Street, just around the corner. He politely asks me what I’d like, takes care of all the ordering and two minutes later, we’re back out in the warm sunshine, laden down with takeout cappuccinos, a cream cheese bagel for him and a passion fruit granola for me.

Wordlessly, Rob leads the way back up to Fitzwilliam Square, but then surprises me by steering clear of Hope Street and heading into the square itself. Next thing he plonks down on a secluded park bench, just inside the gates, which faces out over an immaculately maintained rose garden.

‘Here okay for you?’ he asks, stretching long legs out in front of him.

‘Emm … yeah, if you like.’

‘I just figured we’d have a bit more privacy,’ he goes on, clocking the puzzled look on my face as I ease down onto the bench beside him. ‘Thing is Chloe, at the hotel, you’re being pulled in about fifty different directions all at once. At least here, I get to talk to you. I mean, talk properly. Hope you don’t mind?’

‘Emm, no, not at all,’ I say, handing over his bagel and cappuccino. ‘But just so you know, we’ve kitchen staff not twenty feet from us who could have rustled you up a brekkie worthy of a Michelin star. For free.’

‘I’m sure they would. But then we wouldn’t really get to chat without interruption, would we?’

Subtle way of bringing up last night. So I jump in at the deep end and go for it. What the feck, nothing to lose.

‘Thing is Rob … well, you know I really can’t apologize enough for …’

‘For what?’ He’s looking right at me now, like I’m a few sandwiches short of a picnic.

‘Put it this way. There’s never a good time for the hotel owner to arrive unexpectedly. Particularly when you’ve lined up most of your guests shivering in pyjamas in the middle of the street, when it’s well past midnight.’

‘I guess I timed my arrival pretty badly, huh?’ he says, mouth twisted down into just the hint of a grin.

I do a quick double take, but no, I wasn’t mistaken, there was definite grinning action going on here. Which has to be a good thing, I think, my mind accelerating. Doesn’t it?

‘It’s never good news when your boss witnesses a fire evacuation, no,’ I say, looking right back at him, trying to gauge exactly what he’s thinking. He’s tanned, I notice for the first time. And a bit stubbly, like he just hauled himself out of bed and came straight here. Smells nice though. Citrusy. Makes me suddenly aware that I’m probably stinking of bacon and sausage from overseeing breakfast earlier.

‘Come on, Chloe,’ Rob says, smiling properly now. And this time, there’s no mistaking it. That’s a proper, ear-to-ear grin. Takes years off him too, almost making him look boyish.

‘Do you honestly think in all my years I’ve never seen a fire drill before?’ he goes on. ‘Rotten luck that it happened on our first night, of all nights, but when some tosser decides to light up in his room, then that’s what we gotta deal with.’

‘You mean … you didn’t bring me out here to bawl me out of it, then?’

‘Why would I do that? Just for doing your job? For prioritizing safety?’

‘Well, you know …’

‘Believe me,’ he says, whipping the bagel out of its bag and hungrily wolfing down a mouthful. ‘I’m long enough in this game to know a well-functioning hotel when I see one. And I genuinely think you’re doing a terrific job here. Don’t you worry, you’d know all about it if that weren’t the case.’

‘Then … why did you want to talk to me in private?’

‘Ah yes,’ he says, pausing for a bit because his mouth’s completely full. ‘Remember when I spoke to you yesterday evening?’

Ehh, exactly which phone call would that be, I want to ask him, mainly because the guy rang me about a dozen times yesterday. But instead I just nod and take a tiny sip of the cappuccino that’s starting to burn my hand off by now.

‘As it happens, when I called you last night, I’d just got back to London from our site in Milan,’ he goes on in between mouthfuls. Italy; explains the tan, I think. ‘Anyway, I was worried. I could clearly hear a lot of raised voices in the background. It was always my intention to get over here this weekend anyway, so I jumped on a flight and hightailed it here as fast as I could.’

Ahh, that. A pause while Rob just looks at me coolly, calmly awaiting further elaboration.

‘Yee-ess,’ I tell him straight up. ‘Well, let me put it this way: out of a dozen couples staying here, the vast majority seem to get on perfectly well. They’re all here to get this done and dusted as quickly as they can. They’re being perfectly civilized and mannerly towards each other about the whole thing, and they’re making my life so easy. But … the thing is …’

‘Go on,’ he says. He’s stopped eating now, I notice, and the grey eyes are looking over at me expectantly.

Tell him the truth, Chloe. He’s going to find out anyway and after all, it’s better coming from you.

‘Well … I’ve got three couples here that are maybe not dealing with the whole process quite as well as I would have hoped.’

‘Tell me more.’

So I do. I tell him all about Dawn and Kirk and how I thought I’d almost have to throw a bucket of cold water over the pair of them yesterday evening, they were bickering that much. Weirdly though, instead of asking me why I hadn’t pre-screened them a bit more carefully, he seems far more interested in the ins and outs of their relationship.