Undone by the Star (7 page)

She should call Marc as soon as she had a chance. The least she could do was to try and fix it, find a way to explain the situation so that he understood how torn she was between him and the hotel.

“Do give Miss Sadler my best,” said George as he stopped to let her out.

“I will,” said Alex. “And, thank you. She’ll appreciate it.”

Hurrying along the hospital corridors towards her grandmother’s room, it was hard to believe scarcely more than twenty-four hours had passed since she’d found her grandmother crumpled on the floor of her suite, her leg twisted, and…Alex dashed the image from her mind. It didn’t bear thinking about.

She knew Grannie was fine; she’d called the nurses’ station at least half-a-dozen times in the last twelve hours, but until she saw for herself, Alex couldn’t settle. An orderly was clattering by with an empty trolley as Alex reached the room. She stuck her head in the open doorway. Grannie was awake, looking tired and pale, but sitting up, surrounded by enough bouquets to fill a flower shop.

“Good morning, Grannie,” said Alex as she approached. “Looks like half the florists in London have been here before me!”

“They must think I’m dead already,” grumbled her grandmother.

“I doubt it.” Alex leaned over and kissed the elderly woman’s cheek. “Not enough lilies for a funeral, Grannie,” Alex teased. “Just a long list of admirers wishing you well.”

Miss Sadler responded with a chuckle, and then gripped her granddaughter’s hand. “All this attention has me convinced. I need to free up my schedule, and enjoy the rest of my life. Maybe even a find myself an older version of your Marc.”

“He’s not
my
Marc, Grannie.”

“Maybe not yet,” her grandmother replied, “but we can spar over that later.” She waved the subject away with her other hand. “As you know, we have more pressing business to talk about…you look very nice, by the way.”

Alex had come prepared. She was wearing what she thought of as her “boardroom” suit, a beautifully tailored, and very feminine, midnight blue. It made her feel confident. Something she was in dire need of at the moment.

“Yesterday’s mishap made it clear.” Eugenie Sadler gave her granddaughter’s hand an affectionate squeeze. “I don’t want you to just fill in for me, Alex. I want for you to take over – to be the face of The Sadler.”

Hearing her grandmother say it out loud almost did Alex in. She didn’t know whether to be thrilled, or terrified, or both. She’d been preparing for this moment since she was a teenager. But now that it had arrived, her heart was divided. Between the dream of a lifetime and the man of her dreams.

Now she would have no time for love….

“I have great faith in you, Alex,” her grandmother was saying. “And if everything goes according to plan, the job is yours for the taking.”

Ignoring the lump in her throat, Alex got to her feet. “I won’t let you down, Grannie. I promise.”

Fresh from the shower with a towel cinched around his waist, Marc grabbed his empty suitcase from the closet, and swung it onto the bed. He’d been here what…a week maybe? Mooning around, hoping to hear from the head concierge like a lovesick schoolboy when he should have been working. Six weeks from production, and he still didn’t have a final script.

Marc unzipped his case and flipped it open. His foray into the lobby this morning, ostensibly to book a meeting room but actually in the hope he would hear something about Alex or Miss Sadler, had been painfully successful. Jeremy had been full of news. Alex was stepping up, and was now in charge of the Sadler. Marc tried not to feel hurt that she had not shared any of this with him. Why should she? It was just a kiss – not a commitment. He looked bleakly around at the elegance of the empty room, realizing that wealth and fame had really lost its appeal. He couldn’t help but imagine how it would feel if Alex were there with him, if the air carried a hint of her scent in every breath he took. For the first time in his life, he was beginning to think about commitment.

Scowling, he shoved the image from his mind. Perhaps he should take lessons from The Sadler’s new CEO – she had her priorities down cold. And, despite the depth of their kiss in the shadows of the mews, he wasn’t one of them. He had wanted to make a fresh start in England, live like a normal person with a normal relationship. He just hadn’t expected normal to include being so thoroughly dumped.

Still fuming over Alex’s sudden change of heart, Marc stormed over to the room’s armoire and tugged at the door. He started with the stack of neatly folded dress shirts, tossing them into his case with a vengeance. Then it was jeans, sweaters and t-shirts and anything else he could lay his hands on. Luckily the phone on the bedside table rang before he could ravage his neatly-hung suits.

“Yes?” Marc said curtly into the phone. “Fine. Put him through.” His manager. He’d stepped up his calls the last few days, likely worried about the expected drop in Marc’s income, and therefore, his.

“Pete. What can I do for you?” Now that was a mistake. Marc wandered into the suite’s sitting room in search of a glass of water while the man droned on about the box office figures from Marc’s last film. A half-empty water bottle sat on a silver tray next to the half-empty bottle of scotch. A reminder of yesterday, which only added to his bad temper. Marc put the handset on speaker phone and set it on the table.

“Your agent seems to think you can do better…he’s pushing for another action series before you
semi-retire
, quote, unquote…,” said Pete.

Marc picked up the no-longer-sparkling water and drained the bottle, catching a glimpse of himself in the floor-length mirror. Clean, but unshaven. He tightened the towel around his waist as he spoke. “Good for him…he’s done well by me in the past, but I’ve made it clear enough that my career is taking a different direction.”

“Would you like me to…?” Pete sounded anxious.

“No. That’s my responsibility. Yours is to make sure that I can work in peace.”

“But….”

“No buts, no starlets, and no publicity.” Marc scooped up the handset and took it off speaker phone. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready to resurface.” He ended the call, lobbing the phone onto the empty chair.

His gaze roved restlessly around the suite, remembering the day he’d arrived. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. The delectable Miss Kirkwood had been furious with him when she realized he wasn’t there to fix the toilet. Stabbing her finger at him as she reamed him out, not knowing who he was. And him, totally mesmerized by her flashing eyes, her passion, and her indignation.

Enough. Another hour and he’d be dressed, packed and gone.

Her head held high, Miss Alexis Kirkwood entered The Sadler Hotel through the front door as its new CEO.

The first thing she saw was Jeremy leaping to his feet.

She waggled her fingers for his eyes only as she walked by the concierge desk, but once she saw that everyone had stopped what they were doing to greet her, she had to fight back the tears. An official announcement would come later, but the staff had already been apprised, and knew that despite Miss Sadler’s expected recovery, she was handing the reins to her granddaughter. Alex’s suit confirmed it. Now all she had to do to prove her worth was to make it through reception without faltering. She almost lost it when she caught a glimpse of Kate grinning like a maniac in the distance. And by the time she reached the hallway to the hotel’s executive offices, Alex found she was shaking like a leaf.

Not from fear, she’d been heir-apparent for several years, but from the sheer enormity of the task before her. The Sadler was one of the few remaining family-owned establishments in London and the bigger fish would be circling as soon as they heard the news. The hotel’s reputation and its location made it a very tempting acquisition. Any hint of weakness and they would pounce.

A reassuring murmur reached her from accounting and special services – an oasis of calm in what was bound to be a hectic day. Alex walked the last few steps to the hotel’s inner sanctum, bypassed the outer office where the administrative secretary, Clare MacKay, normally sat, pushed open the heavy oak door, and entered The Sadler’s executive office. Once inside, the familiar scent of old leather, polished wood, and family ephemera rose to greet her. She crossed the thick carpet, ran her fingers along the rich patina of the desk and sat down behind it.

It was a bittersweet moment. But the time for reflection would come later. Along with all the other “laters” like sorting out her feelings for Marc. Alex got to her feet. There was business to be done.

She approached the far wall and after the lightest of touches, an entire panel, portrait and all, swung open to reveal the executive safe. Using the key pad, Alex entered the seven-digit combination. The lock clicked open. With mixed emotions, Alex withdrew the envelope containing the powers of attorney, and the authorization papers that her grandmother had signed knowing this day would come.

Closing the safe, Alex returned to her desk and removed the documents.

Everything appeared to be in order. Clare would know what to do. And a moment later, the secretary appeared, entering with coffee and croissants on a silver tray. “Oh!” She paused mid-step. “Excuse me, Alexis…I mean Miss Kirkwood…I should have been here.”

“It’s Alex,” she interrupted firmly. “And no, you shouldn’t have.”

The older woman visibly relaxed and moved forward to set the tray on the corner of the desk. “Alex, I am so glad you are here. Your grandmother…,” Clare faltered noticing the papers Alex had spread out in front of her. “It’s to be official then, is it?”

“I’m afraid so. Grannie is fine, but she’s made her decision.” Alex smiled ruefully. “Personally, I think she wants to be around to make sure we do everything right. Emphasis on ‘we’…you will stay on, won’t you Clare?”

“I would like that very much.”

“As would everyone at The Sadler.” Alex glanced down a moment to hide the relief she knew would be crossing her face. The older woman had been her grandmother’s aide-de-camp for years and would know more about the hotel than the records showed.

Clare cleared her throat and pointed to the legal documents Alex had removed from the safe. “Shall I?”

“Please.” That was all Alex needed to say. Clare would track down her parents, harangue her brother, and cajole Hector Denomme, her grandmother’s elderly cousin, out of his library. Once the papers were signed and witnessed, the transition would be complete.

“Senior staff?”

“Two-thirty in the boardroom, please,” replied Alex, “with the usual refreshments…and a bottle of the special claret from the cellars to mark the occasion.” Her grandfather had returned from France at the end of the war with several cases of Bordeaux. She had only ever tasted the wine once, when a glass had been raised at his funeral.

Alex felt a tear roll down her cheek. It had all been too much, too soon. Grannie’s fall, her own entanglement with Marc Daniels, and now this.

Clare handed her a tissue and took one for herself. “Tears make you strong,” she assured her new boss as she dabbed her own eyes. “Miss Sadler couldn’t have chosen better.”

Alex sniffed. “I know,” she said.

The two women exchanged a glance, then a smile, and the moment passed.

Alone once more, Alex poured herself a cup of coffee from the carafe Clare had provided, and reached for the stack of files on the side of her desk. Work would keep her mind occupied.

And there was a lot of it. There were days, possibly weeks, of delayed meetings to be rescheduled, events to be attended, staffing decisions to be made. A quick look left Alex with the distinct feeling that Clare had been quietly taking care of business on Grannie’s behalf.

“Oh, Grannie,” Alex whispered. “Why didn’t you say something?”

She knew the answer, of course. The rules were the rules. You worked your way up to the top, and once you got there, you stayed. But too much burden had lain on those frail old shoulders.

On impulse, Alex reached for the phone to call her grandmother’s hospital room, just as Clare appeared in the doorway. “The assistant manager would like a word…,” she said, tipping her head slightly to let Alex know that Cyril was already nipping at her heels. Regretfully, Alex replaced the handset in its cradle – no one would understand the pressure she felt better than her grandmother. It would have to wait until she returned to the hospital later in the day. “Please, send him in.”

Alex rose from her chair and came around to the front of her desk. “Cyril,” she said, “It’s good to see you.” He might be fussy, even a bit quirky, but they’d worked together for years and she was genuinely pleased to see a familiar face. “What can I do for you?” She offered him a seat next to the sofa and then took the armchair opposite.

“The junior staff wanted me to extend their congratulations to you, and to offer their best wishes to Miss Sadler.”

“Thank you. You’ll be able to tell her yourself in a few days.”

Cyril beamed. “That’s wonderful news.” He paused, then cleared his throat. “You may not know this, but Miss Sadler always wanted to be personally informed if any of our more…important guests had a change in plans. Sudden arrivals, departures…that sort of thing.” He was watching her carefully as he spoke.

“And do I want to continue the practice?” Alex answered slowly.

Cyril nodded. “Precisely.”

Why did she have a sinking feeling that Cyril thought he was treading on thin ice? It wasn’t as though he hadn’t done this before; everybody knew Grannie’s version of the internet was to have a vast network reporting directly to her. It was one of the reasons The Sadler ran so smoothly.

Which meant her relationship with Marc Daniels, as short-lived as it had been, was old news. They would know he had been at the hospital…that he had sent flowers to her grandmother…and it would not surprise her if they knew about the kiss he and Alex had shared in the mews. Remembering the depth of their embrace, Alex felt her pulse beat faster. She forced herself to relax. “I’d hate to be the last to know,” she managed.

“Mr. Daniels is checking out,” Cyril blurted. “He called down for his bill not fifteen minutes ago.”