As they drove toward Paris, she didn’t feel shaky, she felt brave, and was glad she had taken the trip. She loved Paris, and didn’t want to give it up for him. He didn’t own it, nor did Sasha. They had each other now. That was enough.
The Louis XVI had kept most of their employees on partial salary during the renovation. Only the more recent hires had been let go entirely and some of the long-term employees were paid in full and waited to return when the hotel reopened. The doorman recognized Gabrielle immediately, and greeted her warmly, lifting his cap as she smiled. He took charge of her luggage, and she went through the revolving door, and headed to the front desk.
She noticed immediately that at first glance, the hotel had changed very little. The signature pieces of art and furniture were seemingly unchanged and placed in the same locations. A new carpet had been woven with the exact same design as the old one, but here and there she saw shiny new marble, and more modern-looking vitrines for the jewelry.
The red uniforms of the bellboys were the same as they had been for decades but were all new, as were the fresh-faced boys wearing them, many of them too young to shave and barely more than teenagers. And the lineup of faces at the reception desk was all brand new too. She recognized no one, which surprised her a little. She thought she’d see one or two of the old guard, although she knew that M. Lavalle had died, and his assistant and the head housekeeper had retired. What she saw instead was a nervous-looking balding man in his forties who looked flustered. She introduced herself, and he did the same, and said he was Olivier Bateau, the new manager. He welcomed her, but wasn’t impressed by how she was dressed. He was used to the outer trappings of more ostentatious, less discreet guests, and pawned her off on his assistant, Yvonne Philippe, immediately, and said Miss Philippe would take her to her room. It was the first major change, since Louis Lavalle had always personally escorted them to their suite. But she wondered if it was because she was no longer married to Arthur, and attributed it to that more than anything else.
Gabrielle was tired after the overnight flight, and Yvonne was quiet and respectful as they walked through the lobby so familiar to Gabrielle. She noticed small changes all along the way, but no major ones. They had done the remodeling well and as much as possible they’d kept things close to the original version that everyone loved. The elevator was all marble and mirror now, and looked less Old World but reassuringly modern and efficient, although they still had a liveried man to run it, which wasn’t needed. Yvonne explained the new high-tech features available in every room now, and admitted quietly that they were still “working out a few details” with the Internet and phones, but expected everything to be working smoothly within a day or two. Gabrielle was planning to stay for a week.
Gabrielle held her breath as Yvonne unlocked the room with a new electronic key system, and when the door to the suite opened as though by magic. At first glance, everything looked the same. She could see that all the fabrics were new, but the furniture and the color scheme remained unchanged in a soft pale sky blue. There were satins and brocades everywhere, and the new curtains were magnificent, better than the old ones. They had replaced the Aubusson carpet with another one, but the effect was as handsome as it had been before. On closer inspection, there were some new pieces of furniture in the room, all antiques, and a new mirrored mini bar. The carved white marble mantelpiece that she and Arthur had loved was still there. The bathrooms in the suite, two full ones and a powder room, were stunningly modern now and very grand, but with an antique feel to them. Yvonne explained all the technology in the room then, and showed her how to work everything on an iPad, including the curtains.
It was the best remodel Gabrielle had ever seen, rather like her own. She had considered a facelift when Arthur left her, and fortunately the plastic surgeon she consulted talked her out of it and said she didn’t need it. Instead he suggested some injections, filler, some subtle changes, and an electrical treatment to “surprise” her face back to youth. The results had been very successful. She didn’t look different or as though she had had work done. The changes were very subtle and made her look rested and healthy and highlighted her features. It made her look more beautiful, and took a full decade off her age in her appearance. She smiled, thinking that she and the hotel had been subtly rejuvenated, without doing anything too invasive or destructive. Her daughters hadn’t even noticed the changes to her face until months after she’d had them. But with Arthur’s new wife being nineteen years younger than she was, she felt so old that she wanted to do something, and was glad she had. It had been the beginning of her starting to lead a new life on her own. And this was the second big step, coming to Paris by herself.
She gave Yvonne a handsome tip, and her bags arrived in the suite before the assistant manager left. Yvonne had noticed how surprised Gabrielle looked when Olivier didn’t take her to her room, which Yvonne thought was a mistake, but Gabrielle had been very pleasant to her, and was too polite to object to what was actually a step down in how she was treated at the hotel. The new manager didn’t know any better, which Yvonne thought was a concern, but Gabrielle didn’t make an issue of it.
A few minutes later Gabrielle was alone in the suite with a pyramid of macarons prepared by the chef, a plate of strawberries, a bowl of fruit, a massive box of the best chocolates, a huge bouquet of pink roses, and a bottle of their favorite champagne chilling, Dom Pérignon, which they preferred to Cristal, their standard offering to important Americans.
Gabrielle sat down in a chair and looked around the suite. It hadn’t changed significantly, but everything else in her life had, and she had. Arthur was gone now, in the arms of his new wife. Gabrielle had lived the life of a recluse for the past few years, although she had promised her therapist that she would try to get out more, and this trip was a major step. It was amazing to think how her life had changed in four years, during the hotel renovation. Her daughters had grown up, one had left home and the other was in college. They had started their own lives, so she was truly alone now, as never before. And being in Paris, in the room where she and Arthur had been so happy so many times over the years, seemed to underline it as nothing else could have. It brought tears to her eyes as she stood up and looked out the window at the rooftops of the Faubourg Saint-Honoré. Well-constructed double windows kept the noise out and a new air-conditioning system, also operated from the iPad, had been added. She knew that she just had to go forward now. She was sad for a minute, but was well aware that that wouldn’t change anything, and she didn’t want to give depression a chance to take hold.
She glanced at her watch, and decided to walk through the Biennale, see which galleries were represented, and to check out their booths anonymously, strolling through the elaborate exhibition at the Grand Palais. Some vendors spent as much as a million dollars on their booths, and she wanted to see them. She opened the champagne and poured herself a glass, helped herself to a macaron from the pyramid of them on the silver tray, and tried not to think about Arthur. He was no longer part of her life, and didn’t deserve to be. She was in Paris, at her favorite hotel, and both she and the hotel had changed for the better. It was all she allowed herself to think about, as she washed her face and brushed her long dark hair. She had her life ahead of her, and she was going to make it a good life, whatever it took. She headed toward the lobby ten minutes later, on the way to the Biennale, and she was smiling. She was happy to be there.