“My éclairs will not kill you, Madame,” he said playfully.
Melanie was really enjoying the interaction with Philippe and couldn’t wait for next time.
* * *
Melanie flopped into bed, more exhausted than she’d been in a long time.
But it was good exhaustion. Not stress-related, and not from being verbally abused. Her new work colleagues were all lovely. Especially Philippe.
She realized after she’d left work they’d met before. Very briefly at the wedding.
He must think her terrible, to not remember having met him. They hadn’t spoke, but he’d been introduced at the wedding dinner, to everyone there.
How could she forget? Perhaps he’d forgotten also?
Okay, so it was over a year ago, and the day was jam-packed, but how did you forget a man like that?
He was very handsome, and that accent… it was delicious. Like the man himself.
Melanie mentally slapped herself. What on earth was wrong with her?
It was dog-tiredness – it had to be. Philippe was a colleague, and she’d do well to remember that. Besides, she’d been cured of men. Jefferson had seen to that.
She closed her eyes and was soon asleep.
Chapter Three
Melanie stretched herself awake.
She’d had the best sleep she’d had for ages. Not having to endure the horrible stress of day-long abuse had already made a difference.
She knew her bank job had taken its toll but hadn’t realized how much until now. She’d been walking around zombie-like before, tossing and turning every night worrying about the abuse she’d cop the next day at work.
Friday and Saturday nights were the only time she slept well, knowing she didn’t have to work the next day.
She slid around and sat at the side of the bed, stretched again, then headed for the shower. She couldn’t wait to get to work again - a thought she hadn’t had for some time.
She arrived half an hour early, putting her bag in her locker. She looped the lanyard around her neck and headed to the break room where she sat down, preparing herself for the day ahead.
“Good morning, Melanie.” Philippe leaned in and placed a coffee on the table in front of her and sitting opposite. “I saw you arrive,” he said to her wordless query.
“If you have some time today, can you let me know? We have a wedding booked, and we need to coordinate on it.”
“Oh?”
“No one told you.” It was a statement, not a question. “You will be managing all major events as part of your position. Is that a problem?”
“No, not at all. Cassie did mention events, but not weddings specifically. Let me check my schedule for today and I’ll get back to you. Avoiding meal-times of course.”
“Thank you, I appreciate that,” he said. “Because meal-times are chahut – bedlam.” He grinned then quickly left the room.
Mel finished her coffee, then headed to the front desk ready to greet the new guests arriving today.
Cassie had mentioned there were a lot of high-profile guests. Many were drawn by the fact they could say they’d stayed in a genuine nineteenth century inn. She looked around. It certainly had appeal.
She glanced outside to see a shiny black limousine pull up. The valet was there, quick as a flash, helping their newly arrived guests.
As they entered, the valet organized their luggage. Mel took a deep breath. She didn’t want to stuff this up.
“Welcome Prince Abdul,” she said, doing a little curtsy. “I’m Melanie Chalmers, and I’ll be looking after you during your stay.”
“Please, stop with the formalities,” he said, outstretching his hand. “I am Abdul. You can drop the Prince bit, he said grinning. “It is very nice to meet you, Miss Chalmers.”
“Melanie, please.”
She led him to the front desk, personally organizing his room keys, and that of his entourage, then walked him to the elevator and escorted him to his room.
The Prince had the Executive Suite, and she ensured everything was as it should be before leaving him. She stopped in the doorway before closing the door.
“Can I send up some refreshments? You’ve traveled a long way.”
He nodded his head. “That would be appreciated. Thank you.”
Mel closed the door behind her and leaned against the wall with relief. She had got through it and hadn’t stuffed it up.
She grinned. Maybe she would get through an entire week of no stuff-ups.
She made her way to the kitchen. “Do you have anything fit for a Prince?” she asked Philippe.
He stared at her blandly. “Do you mean fit for a King?”
“Actually, it’s for Prince Abdul in the Executive Suite. An elaborate morning tea would be lovely.”
He grinned. “I know. I was just teasing you.”
He rolled a tray toward her and opened a silver cover. “Voila.” He clicked his fingers and laughed. “I am well prepared. Let me organize the beverages and we shall depart.”
Now it was her turn to stare. “You didn’t think we could have a lowly attendant serve the prince, did you?”
His cheeky grin told her he was playing with her. “Sierra and I always did this together. So now it’s you and me.”
They made their way up to the Executive Suite, where Mel knocked lightly on the door. “It’s Melanie Chalmers,” she said gently.
He opened the door wide to allow the room service tray entrance. “Ah, Chef Philippe. So nice to see you again.”
Mel let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.
“Tell me,” he asked. “Did Sierra have her baby yet?”
They spent the next few minutes chatting about Cody, then left Prince Abdul in peace with his refreshments.
Another hurdle over and done with. Mel hoped she got through with flying colors.
* * *
They sat side by side in Philippe’s office, which was conveniently off the kitchen. “The wedding is this weekend.”
Melanie swallowed. She had less than a week to organize a wedding?
Philippe gently touched her arm. “It is no problem,” he said in that enticing accent she’d come to love. “We’ve known about it for some months. Today, you and I, we are confirming the details. Because you are new, I wanted to go over everything with you.”
She nodded hoping he knew what he was doing, because right now, she had no idea.
“The wedding reception will be held in the reception hall, which is where all such events are held.” He rifled through a bundle of papers and pulled out two pages which he placed on the table. “This is the menu we’re using, already approved by the bride and groom.”
Mel studied the menu. It was top notch.
“You need to meet with the happy couple in the next day or two and confirm all the details.”
She glanced around the tiny office. Her glance fell on a photograph of a woman with a baby. She wondered who they were. He didn’t wear a wedding band. His sister perhaps?
Her handed her another sheet of paper. “This is a tentative staff roster for the day – you’ll need to go over it and confirm with the staff rostered they are still available.”
Mel worried her bottom lip. Could she really pull this off?
Philippe gazed into her eyes. “You can do this, I promesse – promise.” His hand gently touched her shoulder, and he stood, effectively ending their meeting. “Let me know if you need any help. Most of the work is already done, so this one is not so hard. But the next one…” He let his words hang in the air.
“The next one?” Mel’s heart thudded. She so couldn’t do this.
“Three weeks later. Last weekend in May.” His expression dared her to fold. “We shall start work on that one as soon as we have this one organized.”
He packed up the rest of the papers and attached them to his clipboard, placing it on the wall. “We have a retirement party in between, but it is nothing.” He waved his hands about. “Very easy to
organize. You’ll see.”
Would she have taken this job if she knew about the wedding organization? More than likely.
“It will get easier,” he said. “When you’ve done a few, it will be second nature.”
“Done a few?” What had she let herself in for?
“We have at least two weddings every month.” Philippe said it as though it was no big deal. “It’s usually a package deal – the wedding reception and the Bridal Suite. There are usually also room bookings from some of the guests.”
“Oh.”
“It’s generally very, shall we say…busy on those days?” His eyes sparkled and he threw back his head in laughter, then just as quickly pulled himself up. “I apologize, Madame,” he said jovially. “It really is not funny. But you will get used to it.”
“Now, I must go. It starts to get busy again with afternoon tea.” He turned toward the kitchen, then stopped. “Shall we meet again this afternoon?” he tossed back over his shoulder.
“This afternoon?”
“For our private rendezvous? Like yesterday?”
She smiled. She couldn’t help herself. She patted her belly. “I don’t know if my figure will thank you, but yes, that would be lovely, thank you.”
“Then I shall see you same time, same place.” His grin lit up his face. “Once you have the menu confirmed, let me know so I can order the supplies.”
Mel gathered up all the papers relevant to the wedding and went to her own office. Like any new job, it was hard at the beginning, she knew that. Once she got used to it all, it would become second nature.
As she walked away, Mel wondered about her relationship with Philippe. They hadn’t known each other long, but it was a comfortable rapport. Very friendly.
Perhaps too friendly?
She’d started off this way with Jefferson. He’d worked at the bank too. She saw no problem with them being friends, just friends, but he’d seen it as much more than that.
She didn’t.
She flopped down into the chair and rifled through her desk, forcing her mind back to the job at hand.
There had to be a booking diary somewhere, surely?
It seemed to appear out of nowhere, and she opened it tentatively, worried about what she would find there.
She quickly turned to today’s date, then flicked over to Saturday’s wedding and beyond. Her eyes scanned the dates. Five more weddings were booked over the next few months. She didn’t dare look any further.
Blood coursed through her veins and pounded through her head. She needed to get on top of this. Weddings would be a huge boon to the inn, so she had to get it right. She owed it to Brax and Sierra.
As she was about to close the diary, she noticed a piece of paper hiding at the front of the book. She slowly opened it and read it, then smiled.
That was just like Sierra.
In Sierra’s own handwriting were instructions on how she organized past weddings, where to find additional information, and which staff were usually available on those days.
She put the note aside and searched the drawers. If there was one note, would there be more?
She sat back in relief when she found a whole notebook full of helpful instructions. Mel wondered why Sierra hadn’t mentioned them, but her mind was probably focused on her beautiful baby boy.
Tackling one thing at a time, she read through the instructions, making her own notes as she did so.
Mel put her hands to her chest. Thank goodness Sierra had the forethought to leave this information for her.
The phone rang. “Melanie Chalmers. How may I help you?”
She listened carefully. “Of course Prince, er Abdul. I’ll be right up.” She replaced the receiver and headed up to help her guest.
Chapter Four
Mel stood at the entrance to the inn, feeling a little more weary than she’d hoped. Or perhaps it was anxiety?
Today was the wedding day. Her first.
Philippe stood by her side, which was reassuring.
She had personally checked the Bridal Suite and had sprinkled pale pink rose petals over the bed. After the reception, she would ensure a bottle of champagne and box of chocolates were delivered to the suite.
Sierra’s voice echoed in her head – it’s the little things.
A white limousine pulled up and the valet quickly attended to the bride and groom who had not long left the church after the ceremony.
“Congratulations,” she told them enthusiastically, handing the bride a single pink rose. “I am Melanie Chalmers, Guest Services Manager. The Bridal Suite is ready, and I will personally escort you to your room. Your luggage will be delivered to your room shortly.”
Philippe stepped forward. “I am Chef Philippe and have prepared your bridal reception. Please speak to Melanie or myself if you have any concerns.”
He reached over and took the bride’s hand and kissed it gently.
He certainly knew how to win hearts.
“Now I must return to the kitchen.” He bowed slightly and began to leave but turned around at the last minute. “I shall send up some refreshments shortly. On the house of course - our wedding gift to you both.”
The bride beamed. Little did she know it was included in every bridal package.
True to her promise, Mel escorted the happy couple to their room. It was stunning. She’d been there before when she sprinkled the petals, but now stood at the door and looked around in awe.
It was such a romantic room, and she could only imagine being a new bride and coming here. It would be magical.
This suite was huge compared to the regular rooms. It had silk sheets and pillowcases, as well as a silk-covered duvet. All in white.
The matching curtains were only for show as there were blinds to block out the light, but the curtains gave uniformity to the room.
The large built-in robe was perfect, and allowed their luggage to be out of sight, as was the white sofa that sat in the adjoining lounge room.
The nineteenth century canopy as a finishing touch put a very romantic spin on it all. The thought went through Mel’s head as she closed the door behind her guests.
Sierra had certainly thought of everything.
As she stepped out of the elevator, Philippe greeted her.
“One hour until the guests begin to arrive,” he said. “Shall we do a last-minute check to ensure everything is running to plan?”
“I’m sure it will be,” she said sweetly, then headed to the reception hall with Philippe by her side.
As she predicted, everything was as it should be. Perfection.
They wandered around the room, inspecting each table, one by one.
In the center of each table was a replica of an old-fashioned lantern with a candle instead of a wick. Each one sat on a rustic piece of wood and was surrounded by a selection of flowers, including pale pink roses, forget-me-nots, and a selection of small white flowers and a touch of green foliage.
“It looks so lovely,” she said quietly, feeling a little nostalgic.
She strolled over to the Bridal Table. It was the same, only more so. She wondered how many more times she’d stand here like this. Next time she would have more input and would feel more connected.
“It is a work of beauty, no?”
She startled and looked across at him. “Yes, it is. Thanks to you and the wonderful staff who have more than an inkling of what they’re doing than I do.”
Did he understand how truly grateful she felt? Or how inadequate?
He stared at her as though he could read her thoughts. “Back to the kitchen then.” He bowed slightly and turned to leave.
“Philippe,” she called after him.
He spun around. “Yes, Madame?”
“Thank you. I couldn’t have pulled this off without you.”
His faced softened, and his lips lifted into a smile. “You are very welcome.” He reached for her hand and kissed it gently. Electricity shot up her arm.
“Now I must away!
The sous-chef, he is very good, but he is not Philippe!” He grinned before he disappeared out of sight.
It was nearly time for the other guests to arrive, and Mel decided to have a quick break now or she may not get one. The inn would soon be full of wedding guests for the weekend – it was certainly going to test her abilities.
She flopped down into her office chair and forced herself to relax. In less than half an hour she would be bombarded with guests. Many of whom may need her assistance.
Her phone rang.
“The first guests have arrived,” the receptionist told her. Melanie sighed and put on her best smile, ready to greet her latest guests.
* * *
The reception went well. Melanie spent the entire time supervising to ensure everything ran smoothly.
Not that she really needed to – her staff were well trained and undeniably knew what they were doing.
The bride looked incredible in her elegant dress, and Melanie watched as the newly weds swayed together on the beautifully restored dance floor.
One day that might be her…
She chased the thought away. She was a confirmed spinster, and besides, she didn’t have a boyfriend. Not that she wanted one, either. Jefferson had seen to that.
She shook the thoughts away. She was happily single, and intended to stay that way.
The music stopped and everyone clapped. The couple returned to the Bridal Table, and more speeches began as dessert was served.
“My brother chose well,” the Best Man began. “I’m not so sure about his bride!”
The room erupted in laughter.
“Enjoying yourself?” Philippe spoke quietly, so only she could hear.
She turned toward him. “Yes, but I’m exhausted.”
“It will be over soon, then you can rest.” He lifted her hand and patted it. “The first is always the hardest.”
A zing shot through her at his touch, and she quickly pulled her hand back. “I thought you’d be busy in the kitchen,” she said. It wasn’t an accusation, but a statement.
“The sous-chef and kitchen hands, I train them well,” he said with a grin.
A Husband for Melanie Page 2
