A ROMANCE IN CANNES

Chapter 11

“You seem in a bad mood, Danielle,” remarked Edith.

I looked up from my computer, she was across the desk from me, a folder in her hand, watching me.

“I’m not in a bad mood. I’m just trying to figure out the logic of the new maid schedule,” I grumbled.

“Hum, hum. I thought you were already in a bad mood this morning when you arrived.”

“I slept badly,” I replied dryly, thinking I had found the perfect argument.

“You know what I do when I’m in a bad mood?”

She wasn’t one to let go. I suppressed a sigh and forced myself to listen. The sooner she was done, the sooner I could get back to my work.

“I go down to the kitchen and charm the pastry chef to get a little snack to cheer me up. Nothing better than a little sugar to smile again.”

And lose it by stepping on the scale afterwards. I didn’t say it out loud so as not to sound more bitter than I was, but also because Edith was indeed a few pounds overweight. I lingered rather on another part of her remark.

“The pastry chef is your husband, Edith. One, I’m sure he grants you just about anything you want. Secondly, isn’t it weird to suggest to your colleague to go charm your husband?”

She laughs.

“You know, Danielle, there’s another chef here who would give you just about anything, too.”

I gulped. What did she mean by that?

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed? Chef Orsini stares at you at every meeting.”

Okay, of course, I had noticed that he had a certain… interest in me, shall we say. But I put it down more to curiosity. And most importantly, I wouldn’t have thought anyone else would notice.

“You’re making too much of it, Edith. The chef and I are old acquaintances,” I justify myself.

“I know. He told me everything.”

What did he tell her?

“He told me you two were together a few years ago. I don’t know exactly why this is no longer the case, but I know how to recognize a man in love when I see one.”

I nearly choked.

“Edith, I can assure you that Georges Orsoni isn’t in love with me,” I said, shaking my head. “This story goes back quite a few years now, and a lot of water has flowed under the bridge. The proof is, we hadn’t spoken for almost ten years!”

“Who knows? Maybe a flashback…,” she suggested.

“No!” I barked. “There’s nothing between the chef and me!”

My tone left no doubt about it. Or so I hoped. This conversation bored me to no end. It was bad enough having Georges right under my nose, every day, reminding me of my past mistakes. I didn’t need Edith to get it into her head to want to open old wounds.

She held her breath, disturbed by my sudden outburst of anger.

“I’m sorry, Danielle, I didn’t want to get involved in anything that didn’t concern me.”

She seems sincere and I blame myself a bit for getting carried away. I replied more calmly:

“It doesn’t matter, Edith. I know you thought you were doing good, but if we could avoid talking about Chef Orsoni in the future…”

“Lesson learnt,” she smiles.

I returned her smile.

“On the other hand, since you’re single and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named doesn’t interest you, I have my youngest son who’s also alone and…”

“Edith!” I groaned.

“Okay! Okay! I’ll stop!”

I was still deep in the maids’ schedule when there was a knock on the door.

Edith had gone upstairs and, anyway, she didn’t knock before entering. It was both our office for a few more days.

“Come in,” I announced, thinking it was a maid or a housekeeper who wanted to talk to me.

But the person who entered came from a completely different department of the hotel. It was Georges.

“Hi,” he said, closing the door behind him.

I hope Edith hadn’t passed him in the hallway, otherwise, she was going to get ideas again.

“Hello, Georges. How can I help you?”

Anyone would have sensed from the intonation of my voice that I might not be delighted with his visit. He didn’t answer my question but settled into the chair across from me.

“How are you?”

“Well, thank you,” I said a little defensively, having no idea why he was here.

Maybe I should have asked him the same question, out of politeness, but I didn’t want to.

“I was told that you weren’t yourself today?”

I rolled my eyes and felt irritation creeping over me.

“Damn! Edith! She had to make a big deal out of it.”

“It wasn’t Edith who warned me,” he says calmly.

“Oh, who?” I wondered.

“I heard the housekeepers talking about it when I came here.”

Great. Knowing that I was the subject of discussion in the hallways didn’t really thrill me. But what I noticed in his sentence was that he hadn’t come to see me originally for this. So he wanted something else.

“And what are you here for, exactly?”

He leaned back in his seat, crossed his arms over his chest, and gave me a small smirk.

“I noticed that you have been carefully avoiding me since you’ve been here.”

“Well, you can see me here. And, as you can see, I’m fine, no offence to the gossiping people in the hallways.”

He laughs softly.

“No, you’re in a bad mood.”

“I was in a really good mood until you walked into this office.”

“I know you, Danielle, it’s not just my presence that irritates you. Even if I must admit that it saddens me that you give me such a welcome.”

This time I saw red.

“One, you don’t know me at all. And two, what did you expect? To throw myself into your arms? No thanks. As I told Edith, that’s all in the past.”

“So, why are you discussing it with Edith?” he said with a victorious look.

“It was you who told her that we had been together!”

“I only told her the truth.”

“And what do you think people will conclude from that? You defended my candidacy and now they know that we slept together! It won’t take long for people to say in the corridors that I got my job by spreading my thighs!”

His smile disappeared and he sat up.

“I hadn’t thought of that, I admit. If people think so, let them talk, they’re fools. You and I know you deserve this job.”

He waits for a second and adds:

“Besides, if I may say so, we didn’t just sleep together. We were a couple and…”

“Please spare me your little speech, I was there too,” I cut him off. “Don’t try to make our relationship mean more to you than it did.”

He looked hurt, and I knew I had gone a bit overboard. I’m sure he was attached to me, but not enough to keep him from leaving without looking back when the time came.

“Danielle, I know I hurt you when I left. That doesn’t mean that…”

I raised my hand, telling him to shut up.

“Not now, not here. I’m not in the mood.”

Far from being upset by my request, he bounces back:

“So you’re finally admitting you’re in a bad mood?”

“Yes, I’m in a bad mood!” I finally exploded. “You're bothering me! You, Edith, my neighbour, my mother, the schedule, it looks like you’ve all ganged up on me!”

Georges widened his eyes and realised that it was better to retreat. He stood up and smoothed the bottom of his kitchen jacket.

“I’ll let you work…”

“Good idea. Get out, and leave me alone,” I suggested.

He scratched the back of his neck and offered:

“I was thinking that we could go for a drink one of these days…”

I glared at him.

“But I’ll talk about it one day when you don’t have that murderous glint in your eyes,” he hastened to add.

“Good idea.”

I plunged my nose back into my computer screen, just to let him know that the conversation was over. It was only when the click characterising the closing of the door sounded that I allowed myself to heave a long sigh.

Half an hour later, there was another knock on the door.

“Yes,” I said in a dry tone.

It opened to let in the slender silhouette of Mr Lecailler, the director. I straightened up in my seat immediately and glanced nervously at the contents of my desk. Apart from a few crumbs from the croissant I had swallowed in the morning that were still lying around, there was nothing compromising.

“Hello, Danielle, how are you?” he asked, sitting down in front of me, in the place that Georges had occupied a little earlier.

“Good thanks.”

I cleared my throat before adding:

“And you?”

Do you ask your boss how he’s doing? My mind was too muddled to remember. I suspected that if he had come this far, it wasn’t simply to hear small talk from me. I’m the kind of person who’s afraid of the boss. It’s like the fear of policemen. I want to play the confident rebel, but when the uniform shows up, I’m in my little shoes and I go straight. In this case, Mr Lecailler didn’t wear a uniform but had powers that frightened me much more than that of imposing a fine.

“Good thanks. But no, I have a problem. Well, I should say, we have a problem.”

If it was we who had a problem, it was better than him alone, right? That meant it was something work-related. Well, it all depended on the nature of the concern, of course. So I held my breath, waiting for the rest.

“Well, this morning, the occupant of 522 told me that his watch has disappeared.”

“I guess it’s not a Flik Flak?”

Christophe Lecailler stared at me and blinked twice. Okay, he hadn’t understood the meaning of my remark. That’ll teach me to open my mouth when it’s not necessary.

“It’s a children’s watch brand,” I specified.

“Not really, no, it’s a watch of some value.”

“So I suppose you want me to ask the chambermaid assigned to his room to ask her if she knows where it is?”

If a customer complained about the disappearance of an object, as a matter of principle, I didn’t immediately imagine that someone from the team could steal it. Moreover, Mr Lecailler hadn’t implied that it had been stolen. Sometimes customers even accuse the staff of stealing an object that they later found.

“Of course, we’ll have to ask the maid. But, you see, Danielle, I have another concern, and that is room 401 has also just reported his watch missing.”

“Two valuable watches that went on the same day is a lot indeed,” I pointed out.

He nodded.

“I can look at the schedule, but it’s unlikely that the same maid was assigned to both places. It’s neither on the same floor nor in the same wing of the building. But there are many other people who could have entered the room.”

A housekeeper, a cleaner, a room service employee, a porter… The choices were many.

“I’m bringing you up to date, not for you to launch an internal investigation, but just to ask you to keep an eye out. You just arrived, and I haven’t had a chance to have this kind of discussion with you, because I think you’re smart enough to come to this conclusion yourself, but hotel policy is to practice zero tolerance. So if you hear or see anything that could be of use to us, I’m counting on you to tell me.”

“Absolutely.”

“And, of course, I expect the utmost discretion from you. Now is not the time for the whole hotel to know about this affair. You know how it is. The staff knows it, then it’s the customers, and in two days we’re making headlines. We don’t need this kind of publicity, especially on the eve of the high season.”

“I completely understand, sir.”

“Perfect, so we’re on the same wavelength.”

He stood up, telling me that the discussion was over. I did the same to accompany him. But when he reaches the door, he turns to me.

“Could you do something for me?” he asked.

“Of course, sir.”

“I would like to organise a farewell party for Edith but, honestly, I don’t have time to deal with it. Could you maybe manage it? I thought we could use the Azure lounge for the occasion but, other than that, I didn’t give it too much thought.”

“Yes, noted. Any date ideas?”

“Check it out with my secretary and the personnel office.”

“Good. And for the gift? Any ideas?”

He looked at me, panicked. So, I suggest:

“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry. I’m going to do my little investigation.”

He suddenly looked much more relaxed.

“Thanks, Danielle. I’m sure it’ll be perfect if you’re the one taking care of it.”

He greeted me and left.

Was I dreaming, or did he just pay me a compliment? This idea made me smile again.

I didn’t have time to sit down when someone knocked on the door again. I opened it, thinking it might still be the manager, and came face to face with a bellhop. He had a small white cardboard box in his hands. He handed it to me saying:

“The chef asked me to give this to you.”

I thanked him and closed the door behind him. I sat at my desk and lifted the lid of the box. At the bottom was a lemon tartlet. The dough was as golden as you could have wished and the cream that covered it made me want to plunge my fingers into it without further ado. A note accompanies the dessert.

At the time, it was your favourite. Without meringue, with a zest of lime. I hope this one puts a smile on your face. G

I stared at his words for a moment. He remembered… I was touched by the attention, but I also felt like my heart was sinking. I didn’t quite know what reaction I should have to all of this. Should I be upset? Happy? I thought I had turned the page a long time ago. However, seeing him almost every day confirmed to me that this was perhaps not quite the case. And him, in all this, what exactly did he want? To be forgiven?

I decided after a while that it wasn’t the time to ask myself all these questions. I had work to do, and a delicious tart just waiting for me to devour. Finally, my day didn’t end too badly. I got a compliment from my manager, and I was finally eating lemon pie!