Hotel Vendome (2 page)
His parents had been even less pleased about Miriam than they had been about his working in the hotel business. They had serious doubts that a spoiled, twenty-three-year-old, spectacularly beautiful, internationally known supermodel would make him a good wife. But Hugues loved her profoundly and had no doubts.
As Hugues had expected, it took two years to renovate the hotel. It came in only slightly over budget, and the end result was everything he had hoped.
He and Miriam had been married for six years, and Heloise was four, when the Hotel Vendome opened, and Miriam had obligingly posed for some of their ads. It added a distinctive cachet that the owner was married to Miriam Vale, and male guests in particular always hoped they’d catch a glimpse of her in the lobby or at the bar. What they saw far more frequently than her mother was four-year-old Heloise following after her father, with one of the maids holding her hand, and she enchanted everyone she met. She had gone from being Heloise at the Plaza to being Heloise at the Vendome, and became something of a mascot for the hotel, and was clearly the pride and joy of her father’s life.
Greg Bones, the famous and notoriously badly behaved rock star, was one of the first guests in one of the penthouse suites, and fell in love with the hotel. Hugues was uneasy about it, because Bones was well known for trashing hotel rooms and causing chaos wherever he stayed, but he behaved surprisingly well at the Vendome, much to Hugues’s relief. And they were fully prepared to meet celebrity needs and requests.
On Greg’s second day there, he met Miriam Vale Martin at the bar, surrounded by assistants, magazine editors, stylists, and a famous photographer after a shoot. They had just finished a twelve-page spread for
Vogue
that afternoon, and as soon as they recognized Greg Bones, they invited him to join them. And what happened afterward hadn’t taken long. Miriam spent most of the following night in Greg’s suite with him, while Hugues thought she was out when he was working. The maids were all aware of where she was and what had happened—the room service waiters discovered it when Greg ordered champagne and caviar for them at midnight. And it rapidly became the backstairs talk of the hotel and spread like a forest fire. By the end of the week Hugues had heard about it too. He didn’t know whether to confront her or to hope it would pass.
Hugues, Miriam, and Heloise had their own private apartment one floor below the two penthouse suites, and the hotel security were well aware that Miriam was constantly slipping up the back stairs to join Greg in his suite, whenever Hugues was in his office. It was an extremely awkward situation for Hugues, who didn’t want to ask the famous rock star to leave the hotel. It would cause a public scandal. Instead he begged his wife to come to her senses and behave. He suggested she go away for a few days, to stop the madness of what she was doing. But when Bones checked out, she flew to Los Angeles with him on his private plane. She left Heloise with Hugues and promised she’d be back in a few weeks, and said this was something she had to get out of her system, and begged him to understand. It was a heartbreak and humiliation for Hugues, but he didn’t want to lose his wife. He hoped that if he let her do it, she’d get over her infatuation quickly. She was twenty-nine years old, and he thought she’d come to her senses. He loved her, and they had a child. But it was all over the tabloids by then, and on Page Six of the
New York Post
. It was a crushing humiliation for Hugues, in front of all of his employees and an entire city.
Hugues told Heloise that her mother had to go away to work, which was something that the little girl already understood at four. The story became harder to maintain when Miriam didn’t come home. And three months later, back in London with Greg Bones, Miriam told him she was filing for divorce. It had been the most devastating moment of his life, and although his demeanor with the guests was unchanged, and he was ever smiling and attentive to them, in the three years since, those who knew him well were aware that he had never been the same again. He was far more aloof, serious, deeply hurt, and withdrawn in his private moments, although he put a good face on it for his staff and guests.
Hugues had been the soul of discretion since the divorce. His assistant and some of his department heads were aware of quiet affairs he had had, occasionally with hotel guests or with well-bred or accomplished women around the city. He was one of the most sought-after bachelors in New York, invited to everything, although he rarely accepted. He preferred to keep a low profile, and keep his personal life to himself. And most of the time he was working at the hotel. The hotel came before all else for him, except for his daughter, who came first. He hadn’t had a serious relationship since Miriam left and didn’t want one. He believed that to run a hotel properly, you had to sacrifice your own life. He was always there, keeping an eye on everything, and working incredible hours, most of the time behind the scenes to ensure the smooth running of the hotel.
A month after her divorce from Hugues was final, Miriam married Greg Bones, and they had been married now for two years and had just had a baby girl six months before. Heloise had only seen her mother a few times since she left. Heloise was sad about it. And Hugues was angry at Miriam. She was too busy in her new life, too obsessed with Greg, and now their child, to tend to their daughter or even see her. Heloise and Hugues had become relics of her past. It left Hugues no other choice but to be both mother and father to their child. He never commented on it to Heloise, but he considered it a painful circumstance for them both.
At the hotel Heloise was constantly surrounded by doting surrogate mothers, at the concierge desk, in room service, the maids, the florist, the hairdresser, and the girls who worked in the spa.
Everyone
loved Heloise. They were no substitute for a real mother, but at least she had a happy life, adored her father, and at seven she was the princess of the Hotel Vendome. Their regular guests knew her, and once in a while brought her little gifts, and thanks to her father’s attention to her education and manners, she was both adorable and extremely polite. She wore pretty little smocked dresses, and the hairdresser did her long red hair in braids with ribbons every day before she went to school at the Lycee Francais nearby. Her father walked her to school every morning before he started work. Her mother called her once every month or two, if she remembered.
Hugues was at the front desk in the evening, as he often was when he had time away from other tasks, surveying the scene in the lobby, and greeting guests discreetly. He always knew exactly who was staying at the hotel. He checked the reservation ledgers daily, was aware of who was there, when they arrived, and when they’d be departing. And there was the familiar aura of calm in the lobby as guests were checking in. Mrs. Van Damme, a well-known aristocratic dowager, had just come in from her evening walk with her Pekingese, and Hugues walked her slowly to the elevator as he chatted with her. She had moved into one of the largest suites in the hotel the year before, and brought some of her own furniture with her, and some very important works of art. She had a son in Boston who seldom visited her, and she was extremely fond of Hugues, and Heloise had become the granddaughter she’d never had, having only grandsons, including one the same age as Heloise. She often spoke to Heloise in French, since Heloise went to the Lycee Francais, and Heloise loved to join her on her walks with her dog. They would walk slowly, and Mrs. Van Damme would tell her stories of when she was a little girl. Heloise adored her.
“Where’s Heloise?” Mrs. Van Damme asked with a warm smile, as the elevator man waited for them, and Hugues chatted with her for a few minutes. He always made time for the guests. No matter how busy he was, he never looked it.
“Doing her homework upstairs, I hope.” And if not, they both knew she was probably roaming the hotel, visiting her friends. She loved pushing the maids’ carts, and distributing the lotions and shampoos, and they always gave her spares.
“If you see her, tell her to come and have tea with me when she’s finished,” Mrs. Van Damme said with a smile. Heloise often did that, and they shared tea sandwiches of cucumber or egg salad, and eclairs from room service. They had a British chef, originally from Claridge’s, who was in charge of only their high tea, which was the best in the city, even though their main chef was French, and had been personally recruited by Hugues too. He had his hand in every aspect of the hotel, whether “front of the house” or back. It was all part of what made the Hotel Vendome so special. The staff was trained to provide personalized attention, and it started with Hugues.
“Thank you very much, Madame Van Damme,” Hugues said politely, smiling at her, as the elevator door closed. After that he walked back through the lobby, thought of his daughter, and hoped she was doing her homework, as he had said. He had other things on his mind, although he looked so totally unruffled that no one would have suspected the chaos that was going on in the basement of the hotel at that moment. They had had several calls from guests, since they had had to shut off the water to most of the floors half an hour before. They explained that they were doing some minor repairs, and the hotel operators and desk clerks were assuring anyone who called that they expected to have the water back on within the hour. But the truth was that a pipe had burst in the basement, every engineer and plumber in the hotel was working on it, and minutes before, outside plumbers had been called.
Hugues looked calm as he reassured everyone with a smile. Seeing him, one could only assume that he had everything in control. He mentioned the water shutoff lightly to each guest who checked in. He told them that water service would be restored imminently, and asked if room service could send anything to their room. He didn’t say it, but there would be no charge for it, of course, to make up for the lack of water and the inconvenience. He had preferred to stay in the lobby himself so arriving guests had a sense that all was in order. All he could hope was that the burst pipe could be located and repaired quickly. They were hoping that room service wouldn’t be forced to close; the main kitchen was already swimming in six inches of water, and everyone they could spare had been sent to the basement to help. There was no sign of any of it in the lobby. He was planning to go downstairs himself in a few minutes to check the situation again. And from what he was being told, the flood in the basement was getting worse. Despite all their renovations, it was after all an old hotel.
As Hugues greeted a Spanish aristocrat and his wife, just arriving from Europe, the scene in the basement was one of utter chaos. No one observing the calm appearance of elegance in the lobby could have suspected what a mess it was downstairs.
In the basement men were shouting, the water was rising, and a torrent of water burst from a wall, as engineers in brown uniforms waded through the flood, and were soaked from head to foot. Four plumbers were working on it, and all six of the hotel’s engineers had been called back into work. Mike, the head engineer, was close to where the torrent was coming from, and working like a demon to try and locate the source. He had a belt around his waist with a series of wrenches hanging from it, and as he tried one after another, a small voice behind him told him to try the biggest one. He turned in surprise as he heard the familiar voice over the ruckus, and saw Heloise standing there, watching him with interest. She was up to her knees in water, wearing a red bikini and a yellow slicker, and she pointed to the biggest wrench on his belt.
“I think you have to use the big one, Mike,” she said calmly, standing very close to him, with her big green eyes and bright red hair still in neat braids. He could see that her feet were bare beneath the water.
“Okay,” he acknowledged, “but I want you to go stand over there. I don’t want you to get hurt.” She nodded very seriously and then smiled at him. She had freckles and was missing both her front teeth.
“It’s okay, Mike, I can swim,” she reassured him.
“I hope you won’t have to,” he said, grabbing the biggest wrench from his belt, which he had been about to use anyway. Whatever went on in the hotel, Heloise was always there to see it. And she particularly loved hanging out with the engineers. He pointed to where she should stand, and she obediently went to higher ground and chatted with some of the kitchen staff who had come out to see what they could do to help. And with that the outside plumbers arrived and waded into the rising water to join the others. A number of the bellmen came down to carry bottles of expensive wine out of the wine cellars, and the kitchen staff joined them to help.
Half an hour later, after intense work by both the engineers and outside plumbers, the leak was located, the right valves were turned off, and the plumbers were working on the repair. Heloise waded back in to see Mike then, patted his shoulder, and told him he had done a really great job. He laughed as he looked down at her, picked her up, walked her back to the sous chefs in their tall white hats, white jackets, and checked pants standing just outside the kitchen, and set her down.
“If you get hurt, young lady, your father will kill me. I want you to stay here.” He knew the directive was useless. Heloise never stayed in one place for long.
“There’s nothing for me to do here,” she complained. “Room service is too busy. I’m not supposed to disturb them.” She knew not to get in their way during peak hours.
By then the desk was getting frantic calls. People who wanted to get dressed for the evening were discovering they had no water to bathe or shower with, and anyone calling room service was told that they were extremely busy, and all orders were delayed, but the hotel was offering free wine or drinks. Hugues knew that an event like this could seriously damage the reputation of a hotel, unless handled with grace and poise. He called all of their most important guests himself to apologize and asked the catering manager to send a complimentary bottle of Cristal to each of their rooms, and he was fully prepared to discount the rate for every room affected, for that night. He knew that it would cost him, but it would cost him far more not to. Problems could occur in any hotel, but how they were handled made all the difference between a second-rate hotel and a first-class hotel like the Vendome, which was what they called a “palace” in Europe. So far no one was truly furious at them, people were just annoyed, and happy with the free wine and champagne. How they ultimately felt about the inconvenience would depend on how fast it was going to take the plumbers and engineers to make the repairs. They had to do the best they could that night, and in the ensuing days they would have to make more extensive efforts to replace the broken pipe. Right now, all they needed was water for the hotel, to get service back to normal.