A ROMANCE IN CANNES

Chapter 7

With the meeting over, I quickly grab my notebook and pen and got up, ready to sprint for the exit. But that was without counting on Edith. First, she blocked my way and took her time gathering her things. Second, I couldn’t really leave without her since I was supposed to follow her around all day.

“Danielle, can I talk to you for a minute?” Georges asked.

Before I could even answer, Edith did it for me.

“Take a moment to chat with the chef. You’ll then find me in the laundry room. It’s great that you’re friends!”

He’s not my friend.

“Thank you, Edith,” Georges said with a smile from ear to ear.

For my part, I wanted to land him a right, just to knock out one of his perfectly aligned teeth.

Once the occupants of the room had all left, he began:

“I take it you didn’t expect to see me here?”

“Well done, did you figure that out on your own?”

My tone was sharper than I would have liked but, at the same time, I was on edge. I had come here with the idea of changing my life, of starting from scratch. And now I find myself facing the one who reminded me of my mistakes of almost a decade ago. A part of my life that I had tried to forget. Was it too much to ask for a fresh start?

I was irritated by this idea, but more by myself. I should have laughed at finding him here, facing me in a chair. But the fact that he could still have a hold on how I felt annoyed me deeply.

“I saw that you couldn’t concentrate on the meeting. Besides, I believe that I’m not the only one to have realised this. You accepted the director’s request without flinching. If you hadn’t been flustered, you would have at least pretended to protest.”

I had no effective idea of what I had committed myself to. But I certainly wasn’t going to tell him.

“It’s my first day, I wasn’t going to play the rebel from the first meeting.”

“Will you calm down over time?” he laughs.

I had to find out if there were boxing classes in my neighbourhood.

There was no way the conversation would slip into remembering the good old days mode; I had to change the subject. Something stirred in my mind. I remembered the words of Hugo Ricard, my former manager.

“Did you back my candidacy?”

He leaned against the wall behind him and crossed his arms over his chest.

“The director told us, in a meeting like this, when we were talking about Edith’s replacement, that in addition to the external candidates, there was one internal and another from someone in the group. It slipped at one point that the person applying from another Western hotel worked in Gordes. I immediately thought it was you. I asked him and he confirmed my suspicion. I then told him that it would be stupid not to hire you.”

I wondered. How had he known that I worked at the Bastide in Gordes? The last time we spoke, I was a housekeeper in another hotel, in the Luberon of course, but which had no connection with this one.

“And, like that, he ruled out all the other applicants because you asked him to? Did you marry the Western heiress?” I sneered.

“Your CV speaks for itself; all I did was give him a little nudge to encourage the director in his choice.”

“And how do you know, first of all, that I’m cut out for this position?”

He stared at me and replied without hesitation:

“You were already very good at your job when you were a simple housekeeper at the time. And I followed your career a bit. I know you were very popular where you were before. The proof is that there are few general housekeepers of your age; don’t tell me you’re not sure. You’re good at what you do and you know it.”

Yes, but I’d rather die than admit it out loud in front of him.

I knew that I didn’t have to ask myself about my ability to do this job. What exasperated me was that he could say that I was the woman for the job when we hadn’t exchanged a word for almost ten years. Eight, to be exact. And knowing that he was the one who had placed a good word in my favour, and who had possibly won me the job, left a bitter taste in the back of my throat. I didn’t want him to think I owed him my job. This job as a general housekeeper at Western Palace I had earned thanks to my work. Now, I felt like he was stealing part of my victory.

“How come I didn’t know you were the chef here?”

A slight smile formed on his lips. I could almost believe that he had asked to hide the information, so I only realised once here. Which would have been horrible.

“The former chef will leave after the holidays. I’ve been here since November, just to make the transition. The director and Catherine have decided to launch the spring advertising campaign on the new menu and my arrival, in a few days, to boost reservations for the season.”

He shrugged.

“I don’t understand these marketing plans, I just manage my kitchens. If it amuses them to put my picture on posters or the hotel’s website, I don’t care, as long as the restaurants are full and the customers are satisfied.”

“Are you going to make me believe that you’ve put your ego in the closet?” I said without trying to hide the sarcasm in my voice.

Georges, like many chefs, was not unusual in this regard. The proof was embroidered in three colours on the collar of his jacket.

If his career wasn’t his number one priority, he would have stayed...

“My ego, I don’t know. In any case, I didn’t try to hide the situation from you, the proof. I even tried to send you an email so that we could discuss it. You never called me back, by the way.”

“I deleted it.” 

I immediately regret this response. I had just given him the advantage. That of knowing that he still had the means to touch me. He raises an eyebrow and pulls away from the wall.

“Why?”

“I had neither the time nor the inclination.”

From the grin he put on, I knew he didn’t believe a word of it.

“Pity. But hey, no need to call each other anymore, since we’ll have the pleasure of seeing each other every day.”

I wasn’t sure if pleasure was the word I would have used.

“On this subject, Edith is waiting for me. Allow me to cut short this charming reunion.”

I headed for the door; I needed to get away from him ASAP, and going to work was the best thing to do. I put my hand on the handle, ready to walk out without giving him another look when he said:

“I have changed, Danielle.”

I turned to him, he hadn’t moved. He was still standing on the other side of the room, the meeting table between us, his eyes fixed on me.

“Much better for you. I have also changed. I’m no longer the naive little Danielle you knew.”

“I don’t doubt it. The very fact that you’re here proves it to me. The Danielle at the time didn’t want to leave her family.”

“The Danielle at the time like that of today has values, and turning her back on those she loves isn’t one of them.”

“I haven’t turned my back on you.”

No, you didn’t love me. Not enough, at least. That’s the whole difference.

I didn’t want to have this discussion. Not now, this was neither the place nor the time.

“Edith is waiting for me,” I recalled as I opened the door.

I heard him say something to me, but I ignored it. I rushed down the hall as if I was being chased. I was, in truth. By a ghost from the past that I never expected to see again. And I cursed myself for the hold he still had on me. I wasn’t naive; even though time had passed, I knew that there was still a small part of me that thought about him. About what we had been through, and what I thought we could have been. But I had relegated it to a hidden place that I rarely allowed myself to open. But now, seeing him again, they resurfaced, the good and the bad. And I wasn’t sure I was ready to face them.