Chapter 38
38
17 DECEMBER
Noah closes the cover on the manuscript and lets out a long sigh and puts his hand on his heart. ‘What a book. It’s heartbreaking yet hopeful, poetic yet fast paced. And still, I want to cup my head and cry.’
‘I know. The way it ended for them.’ For a book written so long ago, it’s still so relevant, so raw and unflinching, with an overarching theme of finding love after betrayal. Of finding joy and hope in simple things. The story of two women who braved it all for love. And how that love grew despite every obstacle thrown in their path. Then the bittersweet end. I still can’t think of it without bawling myself. ‘Did you get the sense she was talking directly to you, or do I feel that because we’ve grown so close to her reading her private journals?’ I ask.
‘ Oui , I did. She had such a gift. Do you think she really didn’t publish ever again? And only wrote for newspapers and the like?’
‘I’m not sure? Maybe that’s another avenue we’ll have to look into. Lily-Louise being a patron for the arts could have facilitated a deal for her under another name. But part of me feels like she truly did lose her love for writing for others and instead focused on her memoir, writing her side of the story. Her truth.’ My emotions are all roiled up after reading her last manuscript together.
Noah places the notebook on the desk and turns to me. ‘What they went through only cements in me that life is short, and the time to act is now.’
He motions to the space between us that grows smaller as I take a tentative step closer to him, staring into the blue of his eyes and getting lost there.
Quietly, I say, ‘Chloe taught us to act when you have the chance or live with regret.’
He pulls me tight against him. ‘It would be remiss of us to ignore that.’
In the secret library, it feels like there’s magic in the air, so I take Noah’s face and kiss him softly on the lips. He wraps his arms around my waist. It feels like the first chapter of a new book, like the beginning of a love story.
Later that day, I’m singing Christmas carols, feeling very festive indeed when I run into a pinch-faced Manon in the lobby. ‘What’s wrong?’ I ask.
‘He’s here.’
‘Who?’
‘Francois-Xavier.’
I feel colour drain from my face. Why now? Why when I finally open my heart to another man does he reappear? ‘What does he want?’
She shrugs. ‘You, apparently. And he’s not leaving until he sees you. I tried everything to get rid of the fool.’
I rub my temples. ‘OK. Let me give him his marching orders.’
I find him sprawled like he owns the place on the sofa in the guest lounge. ‘ Amour ,’ he says to me in a silky voice. He doesn’t get up but widens his arms as if he thinks I’ll fall into them.
‘I’m not your love, Francois-Xavier. Has Ceecee figured you out already? Before that there was Helga, Renee, Sofia… I could go on.’
‘You absolute pig!’ Manon adds. I squeeze her hand to quieten her.
He sweeps their names away. ‘They lie! I messaged them, but that’s as far as it went.’
‘Is that so? And the thing with Helga? Maybe my eyes deceived me because I swear I saw her naked in our marital bed. I had to burn those sheets, and they were organic bamboo, which I’m still not happy about. And that’s really saying something, the fact I miss those breathable sheets more than I miss you, which is not at all for the record. I’d like you to leave.’
He baulks. ‘Leave? But this place was my dream! My vision.’
I’m almost at a loss for words. ‘You cannot be serious right now, Francois-Xavier.’
Manon stage-whispers, ‘Do you want me to escort him out in a chokehold? Because I will.’
And she would too. He’d have no chance against my jujitsu-proficient cousin. ‘It’s OK, Manon. I’m sure he’s not going to make us use brute force in an effort to get him to leave. But I’ll keep it in mind.’
Francois-Xavier rolls his eyes and I’m sure I hear Manon growl. She’s never liked the guy and is probably hoping she’ll get to throw him down and cut off his air supply. Still, it wouldn’t look good for business, even if we don’t officially open until tomorrow, and don’t have guests booked until the nineteenth. We’d wanted to host a party to celebrate the achievement, but there’s still so many odd jobs that need doing so we’ve shelved that plan for now.
Manon bares her teeth, like she’s a wild animal. It’s all I can do not to laugh. I squeeze her hand once more, but her expression must intimidate Francois-Xavier because he says, ‘Fine, I’ll go but can I at least call you?’
I give him a winning smile. ‘You can call my lawyer, would that help?’
‘ Anais .’
‘ Au revoir .’
He saunters out slowly, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. ‘You should tell Ceecee what he’s up to,’ Manon says.
‘If he’s here, that means Ceecee dumped him.’
‘ Oui , that’s probably true. What do you think his end game is?’
I shiver. ‘He’ll hope he can slot back into my life until a better offer comes along.’
Manon goes to the window. ‘ Merde , he’s gone into Noah’s bar.’
My chest tightens. ‘You don’t think Noah will mention anything about suite nineteen, do you?’
Manon screws up her face. ‘He wouldn’t tell anyone; besides, he doesn’t know that’s your ex-husband, so I can’t see how anything about you, or the hotel, would come up at all.’
I’ll have to be careful. If he’s sniffing around and hears anything about the secret suites I’ll never get rid of him, and worse, he might try and get the hotel back. He’s got a free legal team on his side and I don’t have anything left to fight him with. ‘True. Let’s leave him to drown his sorrows. I’m sure he’ll be sitting at the bar, phone in hand, trying to find the next woman to fleece.’
Worry shines in Manon’s eyes. ‘I hope he doesn’t come back, but I’ve got a feeling he will. Look at this place. Most of the hard work has been done and he’ll imagine he can slide right in as hotelier.’
‘Over my dead body.’
‘ Non . Over his.’
I laugh. ‘OK, I’m going to write. I’m on a roll and I don’t want to let him steal my good mood away.’
Manon narrows her eyes. ‘I noticed you were floating around, singing carols at the top of your lungs, flushed complexion. What’s that about?’
‘The joy of Christmas!’
‘Or is it the possibility of ending your bout of celibacy?’
‘ Manon! ’
‘Well? The signs are all there. You’re living in a daydream and your passion for writing about love has returned with a vengeance. What happened with Noah in suite nineteen today? You were gone for the longest time.’ She makes a bawdy gesture, which I duly ignore.
‘Not that it’s any of your business, but we kissed.’
She lets out a screech.
‘Shush! We don’t want Francois-Xavier to hear that and come running!’
‘Tell me everything or I’ll scream again.’
It’s my turn to narrow my eyes. The old Manon doesn’t do boy talk. Doesn’t do lengthy chats about anything so messy as feelings. ‘You want the details? That’s not like you.’
She grins. ‘Isn’t it the worst being in love and then hoping that everyone around feels the same ridiculous giddiness? I hope I settle down soon. These feelings are intense and quite the distraction.’
I smile. ‘It’s nice seeing you so happy.’
‘ Oui, I guess. But what about you, will you open your heart to Noah?’
‘Now you sound like a true heroine from a romance novel, Manon.’
‘ Kill me. ’
‘I will not.’
‘Stop avoiding the question.’
I let out a long sigh. ‘I like Noah. I did from the very first moment we met and then he spoke and the rage-fuelled me took over. But I was hurt and now I’m not. Things are clearer. I can look at him and not mentally write a scene where I strangle him.’
‘You mentally wrote that?’
‘Many times. Not just him. Any man.’
‘Heartbreak is intense, I’m guessing.’
‘Heartbreak and humiliation. What a combination. Noah is a good man and I have strong feelings for him, but we’ll have to see how it pans out. Is dating the neighbour such a good idea?’
Manon clutches her head as if she’s frustrated. ‘There you go, obsessing over things that are of no consequence.’
‘How can I not think ahead like that? What if…’
‘What if you stopped all the chatter in your overworked brain and listened to your heart? What does it say?’
‘My heart would say that, looking out at the sea of people all over the world, how lucky am I to have found a man like Noah? A man of substance. A man who will keep me on my toes. Who won’t agree with me just for the sake of it, but will still put my best interests first. Even when I tell him I don’t want him cleaning my windows.’
She grins. ‘He’s got a real thing about windows, hasn’t he?’
‘The man likes order in a disorderly world.’
‘ Mon Dieu, there’s two of you.’
‘And then there’s you, who expects me to clean up in your wake.’
‘ Oui, but I paint the high bits and the low bits, so that’s only fair.’
‘ Touché .’
In my suite, I sit at my desk with the wobbly leg and stretch my fingers. I have fourteen more days until my manuscript is due and I vow to make it on time.