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Nicolas had agreed to take the girls out for a few hours on Saturday, although he said he was going to Brittany that night to help Pascale settle in, and he was going to stay there for a few days. He told her he had rented a small furnished apartment in Paris that week. He didn’t sound enthused about it, but she was relieved that he had taken her seriously and was moving forward. Her life felt more on track now too. She had told him she had an important meeting with a prospective new client, and he was willing to accommodate her.
Nadia arrived ten minutes early for the appointment and stood outside the impressive stone building with tall ornate glass and metal doors that required a code to enter. She peered into the courtyard and saw a security guard, a parking attendant, and a guardian, all properly dressed in black suits, and giant marble urns with palm trees at the entrance to the courtyard. Gregory Holland drove up as she was looking in, used a remote control, and the heavy doors opened and he drove in. She followed his car in on foot, and he unfolded his long limbs out of the car, then turned it over to the parking attendant. It was extremely rare to have that kind of personnel in a residential building in Paris, unlike New York or L.A., where it was commonplace.
She noticed as soon as she walked into the courtyard that there was a beautifully proportioned private home nestled there. Gregory said good morning to Nadia and walked toward it.
“That’s it? The house?” She looked surprised. She had only seen a house tucked away like that once before. It was like a magical surprise behind the doors of the building around it. They were on the front steps by then, and he took the key out of his pocket.
“The building is all large floor-through apartments. The house is really more of a home. There’s a swimming pool, a wine cellar, a gym, and a movie theater in the basement, most of which I won’t have time to use, except for the gym and pool. It’s kind of a giant bachelor pad. It has a master suite on the top floor, one guest room on the floor below, and a study, which I’ll use a lot. The reception rooms are on the main floor. I really lucked out,” he said, as he opened the front door. “It’s just what I need, and totally protected in this courtyard, with a great deal of security in the building, and surveillance cameras everywhere. I put some of my art in storage before I came here, but the building is so safe, I’m shipping it over.” She had looked him up on the internet after their meeting, and it said he was an important collector of contemporary art, but it hadn’t listed the artists. She realized as she followed Gregory into the house that a plum had fallen into her lap.
The main floor of the house had a vast entrance hall which fed into a huge living room, dining room, and state-of-the-art kitchen, with a view of an enclosed garden. He could easily give a cocktail party for two hundred people there, or a dinner for twenty or thirty. As he had described, up a sweeping marble staircase was a beautiful guest suite, and an office for himself, and the master suite on the top floor with a dressing room and an enormous round bathtub. The way the house had been renovated had a sleek, stark, almost masculine style, which suited him. It didn’t have all the little feminine touches that a woman might have liked, or that the house may have had before the renovation. He was right. It was the perfect bachelor pad, and a dream house for any man. It was made for him, and what Nadia sensed about his style from what she could see and what experience had taught her about people and homes. Although there were always some surprises, which was what she liked about her business.
“So what do you think?” he asked her after they had toured the entire house, even the wine cellar and the gym.
“I think you have found an absolute gem. I’ve heard about these courtyard homes but only seen one, and it was small and dark. The renovation here was brilliantly done,” and there were skylights in several key places, “it’s a truly beautiful home.”
“Originally, I wanted something smaller. But five years is a long time, and I would miss my art, so I’m having it sent out now. The house lends itself perfectly to the kind of art I collect. It has all the space I need, will be great to entertain in, and I have a guest room if I need it. It wouldn’t have had enough closets for either of my wives,” but there were two good walk-in closets for him, which was more than he required. Nadia liked the strong, masculine, clean feeling to it. There were no little fussy details or precious spaces that annoyed most men, except if they were trying to please their wives. Since he’d spoken of his two wives and marriages with a certain sarcastic irony, he didn’t seem to her like a candidate for marriage, and she had the strong sense that he expected to live there alone and wasn’t unhappy about it.
Everything about him personified to her American businessman at the top of his field. He was more than just a bank president, he was an investment expert, and clearly had done well with his own.
“So what do you think?” he asked her again. He got straight to the point on every subject. After living her whole adult life in Europe, she wasn’t used to men like him. Even her wealthiest and most important European clients had a softer edge to them than Gregory. And yet she found his whole demeanor fascinating. He was like a brilliantly constructed missile, designed to hit the most minute target with infinite precision. She could tell he didn’t like wasting time and wanted everything handled rapidly and immediately. And she liked how direct he was. Clients like him were a pleasure to work with. “What’s your vision?” he asked, and the way he said it made her feel that he expected a full-on presentation of what to do, twenty minutes after she had walked into the house with him. He was presenting her with a major challenge. She would have to work fast, deliver the goods, meet every deadline, and come up with creative solutions that appealed to him. She suspected that she’d never had a client quite as tough or clear, and who had set the bar as high for her. It was stressful, but also very exciting, and she wanted to satisfy him and prove to him and herself that she could.
“I’d like a little more time to think about it.” She smiled at him. “But off the top of my head, with these vast open spaces on the main floor, I’m thinking white, maybe some charcoal gray, black—but not too much—a dark, intimate dining room with modern silver gleaming. Either some striking sculptures, even enormous ones, and possibly one in the garden, or some fabulous piece of carved Chinese jade, contrasting old and new,” which she knew would cost a fortune. “We could go brighter, but the white would lighten it all up. Browns in the study if you’re comfortable with that, various shades of chocolate or hunter green, since you mentioned it. A silver blue-gray in the bedroom, which would be restful. We can work with some textures to give it relief and a great piece of art. We can go neutral in the guest room, beige or gray, whatever you prefer, maybe a gray flannel. We can look for a fabulous rug for the main floor, or have one made. I have some very good resources in India. We’re talking six months, or at worst a year. And I’d like to see the artwork you’re bringing over, because in some cases, we should be guided by them.” She was squinting as she said it, imagining it, and he looked at her with growing interest and frank admiration.