‘I thought maybe ballet,’ he said tentatively. ‘Sleeping Beauty. The hotels could embody the story somehow. We could have a princess and a prince to greet customers, a small ballet performance after dinner on some evenings.’ He truly had no idea why he had said that. It was madness. ‘It is festive, but it is also different.’ What he did know was it wasn’t really leaning towards blue and silver…
‘Ferne loved Sleeping Beauty,’ Silvie breathed. There was definite reverie now, but still there was control.
‘I know,’ Ethan admitted.
Silvie then seemed to straighten in her seat, adjusting the scarf at her neck and taking him in anew. ‘But I do not think we should be looking at the past.’ She took a breath. ‘I think we should be looking at how to shape the future. The future of the Perfect Paris hotels and your future, Ethan.’
An uncomfortable feeling stirred in his stomach now. Suddenly all those calorific nut products were doing the dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, pirouetting amid the wine and water and the fear about what Silvie was going to say next. What exactly did the emphasis on ‘your’ future mean? Except he did know. Deep down he knew exactly what it meant. It meant what it always meant when it came from a figure in authority. Stupid boy. Idiot. Useless. Good for nothing. You couldn’t change the hand of destiny you had been dealt. And his cards had been marked from the very beginning. Here was the moment when the hotels were going to be stripped from him. And it wasn’t the financial implications of that that bothered him. It was the idea of losing another part of Ferne.
‘I am thinking of stepping back from… things,’ Silvie told him.
‘Things?’ He felt the need to repeat the word to seek some sort clarification.
‘Louis is coming back from America.’
Now Ethan’s hackles were really rising. Louis Durand. Ferne’s older brother. His nemesis. If you were allowed to have a nemesis within the family who had practically raised you. Ethan had never been able to put an actual finger on the reason he had always disliked Louis as much as he had always adored Ferne. Perhaps it was Louis’s entitled attitude and the fact that he was good at pretty much everything. He worked for a big corporation in the US as a head-hunter. Paris and Ferne’s hotels had always been small-time to him, like tiny Monopoly properties on a small-scale board.
‘Is he staying long?’ He couldn’t think of anything better to say, but he hoped he had managed not to weave too much animosity around the four words…
‘Perhaps,’ Silvie replied, pouring herself another glass of wine. ‘It depends.’
‘On what?’
‘On how you feel about working with Louis instead of with me.’
Ethan’s chest tightened. He hated the idea. He hated the idea of the idea. He loathed it! He wanted to stamp all over the idea and set fire to it! Whatever Silvie was about to tell him, he was sure he wasn’t ready to hear it.
‘I am getting old, Ethan,’ Silvie explained, sighing. ‘I am too old to be concerned with profit and loss and accountability. I did not envisage taking this role. I did not foresee losing my daughter and…’
‘I know,’ Ethan said. ‘You were not the only one who lost her.’ Inside his mouth he pushed his front teeth into his tongue until the burn was enough to make him stop.
Silvie sighed again and there was much more weight to this particular sigh. It was a sound of discomfort. It told Ethan that there was a little more to this.
‘I need to be sure, Ethan, for the future of the Perfect Paris chain, for Ferne’s legacy, that the right person is leading the way. Preparing for the future, coming up with new ideas and aspirational themes to ensure we always offer that perfect Parisian experience we are known for, but, also, not to limit ourselves to what has gone before.’ She was looking directly at him now. ‘Do you understand what I am trying to say?’
Yes, he understood. He understood that Silvie was most probably going to gift her shares in Perfect Paris to Louis and put her son in charge of the organisation. Silvie didn’t need him. Didn’t want him. Louis was coming back and Ethan was being asked whether he could take a step back, let Louis in to Perfect Paris, work for him… He was rage-ridden now. He could feel it manifesting, starting to tip the scales heavily towards making a knee-jerk reaction. He had to try and calm. He bit down on his tongue again and when he spoke he tried to make it even and balanced.
‘Louis will take over your shares,’ Ethan said, managing a nonchalant shrug that defied completely how he was really feeling. ‘He will be the CEO and the face of Perfect Paris hotels. Your problem with my lack of forward-thinking will be solved. It will keep things in the Durand family.’
‘Ethan, you are part of the Durand family,’ Silvie insisted as a waitress arrived with their order of shrimps.
Ethan shook his head. ‘Ferne made me feel I was part of the family. You made me feel like I was… a stray you had to put up with to keep your daughter happy.’ He downed his glass of wine. ‘Like the dog that would not fit in the drinks cabinet.’ He shook his head again, this time more forcefully. His cheeks were heating up. He wanted to hit something. He clenched his fists under the tablecloth.
‘Ethan, I… do not know what to say,’ Silvie breathed. Now the older woman was showing some emotion. Now her eyes were blurring with tears. ‘I do not think of you that way. I have never thought of you that way.’
‘You do not have to say any more. I understand what’s going to happen. I think I always knew it was going to happen one day.’ He stood up, buttoning his coat as swiftly as he could. ‘But you should know,’ he began again, ‘the hotels, they belonged to Ferne and a large part of them still belongs to me. And I will not stand by and let her be forgotten. I will not let Louis come over here and turn Perfect Paris into… Las Vegas!’
‘Ethan, please,’ Silvie began. ‘No one would do that. And of course your position will not be undermined, I just thought…’
White-hot anger was bubbling through his veins now as he leaned over the table and addressed his best friend’s mother. ‘You just thought you would remind me of my place,’ he spat. ‘Well, bravo, Silvie. As if I could ever forget!’
‘Ethan,’ Silvie said firmly. ‘That is just not true.’
‘Is it not?’
‘No, of course not. You have always been part of the family and… that is why… there is something else you should know.’ She waited a beat before carrying on. ‘There is another reason Louis is coming home.’
Something in Silvie’s tone now made him hold still, taper the anger for a moment. Whatever it was, it was even more serious than business…
‘I have… made contact with the person who received Ferne’s kidney.’
Now Ethan’s stomach turned upside down and threatened to banish the contents of last night’s drinking session. ‘I… do not want to hear this.’
‘Ethan, this is a good thing that has come from Ferne’s death. A life continuing because of Ferne’s generous heart.’
‘No.’ Ethan said, shaking his head as the lights and the sounds of the arcade all began to spin in his vision. He felt drunk all over again. Dizzy and hot and nauseous. He unfastened a button of his coat.