Chapter 13 #2
She had him move several paintings to the left or the right, raise and lower them until his arms and back were aching, and she looked up at him with a smile and told him they were perfect.
He came down a ladder after hanging one of the paintings as she was looking up at the lights, and he stopped next to where she was standing and couldn’t resist a moment longer.
He bent down and kissed her so tenderly his lips felt like silk on hers, and kissing him back seemed like the most natural thing in the world.
They kissed for a long time and she didn’t want him to stop, and they gently pulled away, and he looked at her, as surprised as she was.
Neither of them expected it to happen, and neither of them could stop it once it did.
“I thought we were friends,” she said in a husky voice, as they stood looking at each other.
“I thought so too,” he said softly. “I was wrong.” She shook her head then, and he stood as close to her as he dared and wanted to kiss her again.
“You’ve helped me with so many things in the last six months.
I couldn’t have gotten through it without you.
You gave me the courage to do all this.” He pointed to the hotel around him.
“It’s all you, Xavier, you did it. I didn’t.”
“You fueled me, you healed me.”
“You did the same for me. I was a mess when I got here in January. You got me through it. But I can’t do this,” she said sadly.
“Because of Malcolm?” he asked her.
“Because of you. I don’t want to interfere with your decision about your marriage. That’s not right. It’s too messy if I get involved. You need to figure it out for yourself, whether you want that marriage or not.” He’d been thinking “not” lately, and was almost sure of it.
“It’s not a marriage,” he said, but he knew she was right.
“There are three people involved in it now. You don’t need four if I’m in it too,” she said firmly.
“Can we still be friends while I figure it out?” he asked, worried, and she smiled.
“Of course!” They finished hanging an hour later and didn’t kiss again, but he was longing to kiss her and hold her and feel her lips on his.
He drove her home, but neither of them could forget the kiss, and what it meant to both of them.
She couldn’t remember another kiss like it in her entire life.
She turned back to look at him as she let herself into the house.
He was watching her and looked so sad she wanted to run back and take him in her arms, but she didn’t.
She walked inside and softly closed the door behind her. He almost cried as he watched her.
—
The opening of the Empress Eugénie Hotel was a week later, and it was spectacular.
Almost every celebrity who’d been invited had come, and the international press was there en masse.
Xavier had used all his old connections to get them to come, and hadn’t lost his touch.
They had a black tie launch for VIPs the night before the public opening.
The hotel looked exquisite and the food was exceptional.
The décor, the lighting, the service, the suites, the view from the terrace, every detail had been thought of and fine-tuned to perfection.
The gardens had been sculpted exquisitely by an army of gardeners, the head of whom had previously worked at Versailles and now lived in Biarritz.
The fireworks show at midnight was breathtaking.
Sabrina had worn a simple black strapless dress and looked elegant, beautiful, and professional.
She manned the gallery all night to make sure that the new manager and assistant handled it well, and between the three of them, they sold every piece on the walls, and would have to rehang the gallery in record time the day after the opening, so as not to lose customers.
Every piece of the well-oiled machinery functioned perfectly, beyond expectation.
The reviews were fabulous, and Pascal and Xavier opened a thousand-euro bottle of Bordeaux and drank it together.
Their crazy, outlandish, against-all-odds little local venture was the dark horse of the century and won every race hands down.
“Let’s do it again,” Pascal said to Xavier, and meant it, and Xavier was tempted to try.
Either he had found his niche at last, or it had been one lucky shot and he’d be crazy to try again.
But he had actually enjoyed it, and Pascal was honest to a fault, trusted him, and let him take it as far as they could.
Some reviews said it was the finest hotel in Europe, others said in France.
Either way, it was a dream come true for both of them, and Sabrina was so happy for them.
Xavier came by the gallery to see Sabrina after his bottle of Bordeaux with Pascal, and he was slightly drunk.
He twirled her around the gallery when she told him they were sold out.
Everyone wanted a souvenir of the evening, no matter what the price, and all the big spenders had come.
There were details that Xavier wanted to adjust and improve, but he was now half owner of one of the finest hotels in the world.
Xavier stayed at the hotel until six a.m., watched the sun come up from the main terrace, and let one of the security men drive him home, where he slept until noon. Then he drove to the airport. He had business to take care of in Paris. And nothing was going to stop him now.