by Ashe Barker
“I… You waited.”
“Of course.”
“I did not expect you to still be here. I thought, when you did not come in the shower with me, that perhaps you did not want…”
He loved the way her face flushed, such a pretty pink. Aaron walked over to her and looped an arm across her shoulders, pulling her to him. He dropped a quick kiss on her lips.
“I did want, but you’ve had enough for tonight. You must be feeling the effects.”
Her face colored even more, but he noted she didn’t deny it. Instead, she smiled, and glanced around the room for her things.
“Oh, you picked up my clothes. Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re welcome. And when you’re dressed, what are your plans for the rest of the night?”
“I do not have plans, Sir.”
“Not in a hurry to be away, then?”
“No, Sir. I am not at work tomorrow.”
“Good. In that case, will you join me for a drink?”
Her brow wrinkled in puzzlement, though, rather than annoyance. Then her face brightened and she smiled at him, the first proper, brilliant smile he had seen since he’d first laid eyes on her downstairs. It lit up her entire face.
“Yes, Sir, I would love that.”
Chapter Three
Now
“That’ll be four pounds thirty-five, miss.”
“What?”
“Four pounds thirty-five.” The taxi driver twisted in his seat to peer at her over his shoulder. Eugenie glanced out of the window, astonished to realize they were back, parked outside the county council headquarters in Morpeth—and the driver wanted to be paid. She scrabbled in her bag for her purse and handed him a five-pound note. He fumbled about, pretending to look for change, obviously hoping she’d tell him to keep it. No such luck. She intended to claim the fare back, so she wanted her change and a receipt too. She waited for him to hand it over—however reluctantly—then she got out of the cab.
Eugenie checked her watch—twenty past five. She might just catch her boss before he left for the day. She could fill him in on the deal she’d struck at the airport, bask in his praise for a bit then rush off home to fill out her application. It occurred to her that it might be considered disloyal to be looking for another job when this one was going so well, but she quashed that notion. Everyone was entitled to their dreams and this Paris opportunity looked to be a dream worth chasing.
And the closing date was in just two days, so she needed to crack on with it.
* * * *
Back in her smart apartment in Newcastle, Eugenie fired up her laptop to download the job details and application form. From the look of it, the whole lot could be done online, which pleased her. It made things easier, simpler. And it was quick. Time was not on her side, but she could meet that deadline if she got on with it.
As she read the full details, she became even more hungry for the job at the Totally Five Star Paris. She drooled over the slideshow tour of the hotel, the public function suites, which she supposed would be her terrain, as well as the private guest accommodation. Even the staff apartments were pleasant and ultra-modern.
And, above all, this was Paris. Beautiful, vibrant, exciting, sensuous Paris, the city Eugenie had loved when she’d lived there briefly. Desire for this gnawed at her stomach. She studied the person specification, tried to frame her somewhat meager experience around it. She convinced herself she could manage this and had actually done most of the things they seemed to expect. Her track record included the breadth of experience required. It was just that Eugenie hadn’t been at it for long. There would be other, more experienced applicants. Self-doubt would get her nowhere, though. What she might lack in experience, Eugenie could more than make up for in enthusiasm.
Before starting to complete the form, Eugenie did some more research. She checked out guest feedback and trade press, Totally Five Star’s own marketing and financial announcements. To have any real hope of success it would be vital to get under the skin of this company, work out how it ticked, its culture, the values that drove it. Eugenie would need to convince the interview panel that she was just the person they were looking for, and to do that, she needed to understand them. Her strategy now was a simple one—immerse herself in the language of the high-end hotel industry, absorbing the passion evinced by Totally Five Star for offering the very finest, the most luxurious environment for their discerning clientele. This hotel was expensive, but it was the best. Absolutely. It was that simple. So Eugenie had to be the best, too.
She spent the first evening on her research, making notes, bookmarking web pages, assimilating all she could about the prestigious hotel chain that she so badly wanted to infiltrate. She felt like a fraud at some points, was sure they’d see through her finely honed prose and know her for the jumped-up little wannabe she really was. Then she pulled herself up short, delivered the talking to she needed.
She was a genuine applicant and truly believed she could do this job and do it well. She was keen, intelligent. She could learn and would give it her all. The Totally Five Star Paris would have no cause for complaint if she could just convince them to give her a chance. The first hurdle was to get as far as an interview, so her application had to shine to ensure she got in front of them. Eugenie pored over the essential requirements listed in the person specification and double-checked her notes to make sure she had something to say on all of them, some evidence to offer that might help to demonstrate that she was exactly the person they were looking for.
The following day—Saturday—was devoted to filling in the online forms. And even setting aside her desire to impress, Eugenie felt as she read it all back that she had done herself justice. There was nothing more to say that might boost her chances. There had been no opportunity yet to talk to her boss about a reference, but she felt he’d be fine. She closed her eyes and pressed send.
Four days passed, and apart from the automated acknowledgement she’d received within seconds of submitting her application, Eugenie had heard nothing from Totally Five Star. She checked her personal email several times a day. Surely even if they’d decided she was just too young, too raw, they’d do her the courtesy of saying so.
Another two days passed and it was almost the weekend again. HR departments in international hotel chains didn’t work on weekends. Did they? If she heard nothing by close of business on Friday, she’d be left stewing all weekend. Still, the ball was not in her court. She could do nothing but wait. As well as crossing her fingers, toes and anything else she could find.
She emerged from the shower on Saturday morning to hear her mobile trilling. It rang off before she could reach it. Probably someone from work looking for an extra to make up the numbers for a tennis match, or maybe a drink later on. She left the phone in her bag and went to get dressed.
It rang again minutes later, and this time Eugenie got to it in time. As she tapped the ‘accept’ icon, she noted that she had three missed calls. Someone must be desperate for her company. Or maybe it was just one of those firms offering to reclaim her payment protection insurance for her— Christ, those calls got on her nerves.
“Hello, Eugenie d’André speaking.”
“Good morning, Miss d’André. I hope I am not disturbing you. I apologize for calling on a weekend. Is this a convenient time?”
The soft female voice spoke in English but Eugenie was not sure if she detected a faint accent. She struggled to know, as English was not her first language either, and accents were difficult to pinpoint. “No, that is quite all right. How can I help you?”
“My name is Madeleine Lambert. I work with the recruitment and selection team at Totally Five Star. You applied to us recently for a position at our Paris hotel.”
Eugenie sat down, hard. Her mouth went dry. With her brain on autopilot, she made the polite responses. “Yes, yes, I did. No, this is quite convenient. Do continue. Please.”
“We were very impressed by the information you provided for us. The i
nterview panel would love to meet you. Would you be available to come to Paris next week? We hope to hold the interviews on Wednesday. I realize this is short notice, but the hotel manager is about to go on three weeks’ leave and we would very much like to make the appointment before she goes.”
“What? Yes, Wednesday. Yes, I can be there…” Eugenie was frantically trying to recall what was in her diary for the coming days. Had she any important meetings she just couldn’t miss? Would she be able reschedule?
“We will interview in the afternoon, but, of course, if you need overnight accommodation, we will be happy to provide that. You are currently in—the north of England, I think?”
“Yes, I live in Newcastle. In Northumberland.” Eugenie did a quick reckoning in her head. A train to London then on to the Channel Tunnel in Kent, followed by the journey across to France. No way could she be sure of arriving in time for an afternoon interview, she would need to travel the day before. “Thank you. I would appreciate a room on Tuesday night, please. Of course, I would be happy to pay—”
“No, that won’t be necessary. We are happy to meet your expenses. Travel too, naturally. If you could make the arrangements to suit you and let my office know, we will ensure that you are reimbursed. I will send you an email confirming all this, but given the short timescale, I felt it was important to discuss with you, make sure you could attend next week.”
“Yes, of course. Thank you.”
“The interview panel would like to see you at three-thirty in the afternoon on Wednesday. The formal interview will take perhaps one hour, and three members of the senior management team in Paris will be present. They would like you to make a ten-minute presentation to them outlining your top three priorities for the first year in the post—should you be the successful candidate. A laptop and projector will be available if you require them. The interview will be conducted in French and in English, as fluency in both languages is a requirement for this post. Will that pose any problems for you, Miss d’André?”
“No, none. That all sounds fine.” Eugenie hoped her voice was not shaking, despite the fact that her head was reeling. A presentation to prepare, travel arrangements to be made, her boss to be told, her diary to reshuffle. Christ, she needed to get cracking.
“I will email conformation in the next thirty minutes or so, but may I just wish you all the best for a pleasant trip. And, of course, my best wishes for next week. It has been a pleasure speaking to you today, Miss D’andré.”
“And to you, Madame Lambert. Merci.”
“Merci, et au ‘revoir.”
The call ended, and Eugenie sat motionless for several seconds, absorbing this latest development.
An interview! They wanted to meet her. They actually liked the sound of her and wanted to meet her. She’d done it. Or at least, so far so good.
The rest of the weekend passed in a blur of activity. Eugenie went online to book her Eurostar ticket for Tuesday. She would be arriving in Paris in the late afternoon, and would have an opportunity to relax and drink in the atmosphere of the Totally Five Star, perhaps experience it as a guest would. She intended to make good use of the chance. Her research had been copious and detailed, but there was no substitute for firsthand experience.
She also treated herself to a new outfit, a smart but sensually understated silk suit in a deep shade of blue. The calf-length skirt was flattering but very proper, and the jacket almost military in style. She offset the slightly austere look with a loose and flowing pale lemon blouse. She posed in front of her mirror on Sunday evening, and thought she’d managed to strike just the note of sophistication that she wanted—feminine but businesslike, efficient but without seeming too prim. Yes, she would do.
Monday saw her presenting herself at her boss’ office explaining that she needed three days off. She had to tell him why and was delighted by his response. He hoped she didn’t get it and he would find her difficult if not impossible to replace, but he wished her all the luck in the world. And, of course, she could rely on him to come up with the goods as far as a reference was concerned.
She spent Monday evening working on her presentation and decided not to avail herself of the IT facilities on offer. In her view, those just complicated things and she wanted their attention on her, not on any fancy graphics. She set out her points, made brief notes that she could rely on to prompt her through the ten-minute slot and decided to trust to her natural instincts. She was a good communicator and could do this.
* * * *
At six-thirteen on the Tuesday, Eugenie exited a taxi in the dropping off bay at the main entrance to Totally Five Star Paris. She shoved three ten-euro notes at the driver, who seemed content with that. He wished her a pleasant stay in Paris and hurtled back out into the teeming traffic.
Eugenie reached for her overnight bag, only to have it taken from her by the quiet but insistent butler who had swept down the front steps with majestic grace to greet her. He gestured for her to follow him, issuing the standard, practiced words of welcome as he ushered her into the spacious, cool reception area. A long, gleaming counter ran the length of one wall and uniformed staff milled in the lobby. As soon as the butler escorted her through the plate glass doors, a young woman headed in their direction, a friendly smile plastered across her face.
“Good afternoon, you wish to check in, oui?”
“Oui. Je suis Eugenie d’André. Je suis ici pour une entrevue d’emploi.”
“Ah, yes, I have the information. Please, follow me.”
Eugenie trailed after the vibrant receptionist, who disappeared behind the long desk to rummage beneath it for a sheaf of papers. She found what she was after and laid the documents on the shining counter.
“I will need your passport, if you please, Mademoiselle d’André.”
“Of course.” Eugenie handed it over and waited patiently while the necessary formalities were dealt with. It took a few minutes, but soon she was on her way up to the eighth floor where a suite had been reserved for her.
The porter, who insisted on carrying her bag and pressing all the elevator controls, explained that the hotel had four award-winning restaurants and food and refreshments would be available twenty-four hours a day. She would find menus in her room. There was a spa she could use, a lounge bar where she could enjoy live entertainment, a movie theater for the use of guests, a fully stocked library and, of course, two swimming pools, one indoor and one on the rooftop. Eugenie had read up on the hotel before she’d set out and was fairly familiar with the amenities offered but still listened with care as the porter waxed eloquent about the casino and the gym. His pride in this establishment was obvious, and Eugenie wondered if all the staff felt similarly engaged and committed. If so, this was a good sign, hinting at skilled leadership and enlightened management. More than ever, she wanted to make her future here.
As the porter guided her along the hallway on her floor, her sandals sinking into the plush carpeting, he informed her that hotel transport was available to take her wherever she might like to go, whether she wished to explore the city, or to shop perhaps. Or maybe she would prefer to make use of the hairdressing salon, or enjoy a manicure? Or, if it would be more convenient, the hairdresser or a masseuse would come to her room. The usual housekeeping services were available, complimentary drinks were provided in her suite and the flowers would be changed daily.
As they entered her suite, muted classical music greeted her, which the porter explained she could turn off via a concealed console. Or she could make other selections if her tastes ran to something raunchier. A whole system of home entertainment was provided, including a plasma screen television that seemed to take up most of one wall, and naturally Wi-Fi was available throughout the hotel. As if this were not enough, she would find facilities to charge any electrical items she might have with her.
As he bustled about the room, opening windows and stacking her bag on the neat trolley provided, he assured her that Totally Five Star hoped to anticipate any needs she
might have. Even so, if there was anything at all that she needed and could not find, she was just to phone down to reception who would be delighted to oblige.
Eugenie thanked him and held out a ten-euro note. He offered her a respectful bow and declined, inviting her instead to leave any gratuity she felt might be appropriate when she checked out. The staff who had served her would share it. He wished her a very pleasant and comfortable stay then slipped back out into the corridor.
Eugenie sank onto the bed, somewhat in awe at her surroundings. She’d known this place was smart, upmarket, the best of the best. But she’d assumed it all applied primarily to the physical environment, the superbly appointed rooms, the elegant architecture, the graceful pieces of French art displayed in the public areas. And, of course, to the Michelin-starred excellence of the food they would serve, as well as the quality of the entertainment to be enjoyed here. She was impressed to learn that Totally Five Star excellence extended to her personal needs and comfort too. It included the understated but efficient welcome, the speedy transition through reception, her questions answered before she even thought of them.
Eugenie lay back and stared at the ceiling, her head a pleasant jumble. She was here. She was really here. This was actually happening. Now all she had to do was make it last.
Chapter Four
Eugenie spent the next few minutes unpacking her bag, not an arduous task given she’d only brought a couple of outfits with her. By this time tomorrow, she’d be checking out. But she wanted her interview outfit to be fresh and uncrumpled, so she hung it carefully on the front of the wardrobe before setting off to explore the suite.