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CHAPTER SEVEN
A GENTLE RAIN tap-tapped on the car windows.
Trey leaned back against the seat, wishing the raindrops could wash away the past hurts. He stifled a deep sigh. The truth was that he would rather be anywhere but here. The only consolation was that they’d be staying at a hotel instead of venturing to the château with its abundance of painful memories.
All of Cannes was blanketed in the darkness of night. With the lull of the car engine and the rhythmic tapping of the rain, Trey struggled to keep his eyes open. He’d never learned to sleep on airplanes. And with his seat being separate from Sage’s, he’d read a spy novel for most of the flight.
The lights of the city sparkled and glistened in the rain like fine jewels. It was only fitting because his hometown was a treasure on the French Riviera. If only it didn’t hold so many painful memories.
He wondered what his mother would think of his plan to bring down the magazine. Would she cheer him on? Or would she be disappointed that he couldn’t let go of the past?
Sage pressed a hand to his arm. “Are you okay?”
Trey pushed away the troubling thoughts. “Of course. Why do you ask?”
“Because we’ve arrived at the hotel and you haven’t gotten out of the car.”
He glanced out the window at Cannes’ finest hotel. When he was a child he imagined this place was a palace and a rich king lived within its walls. Other times, he would pretend his father lived there, taking care of important business, and that one day he’d return home. But in truth, his father never stayed at this hotel that he knew of and his father never came home.
Trey choked down the unwanted rush of emotions. “I think I’m just tired. I can’t sleep on planes.”
“I guess we have that in common because neither can I.”
“Then let’s get checked in and we both can get some rest.”
He alighted from the car and asked her to get their room keys while he saw to the luggage—all six pieces of it. One piece was his and the rest belonged to Sage. Thankfully some of the suitcases had wheels. How long did she plan to be in France?
Inside, Sage was at the registration counter. From across the lobby, he couldn’t hear what was being said, but Sage was talking with her hands and that was never a good sign. Maybe it was a communication problem.
He picked up his speed, hoping to smooth out the situation. He came to a stop next to Sage. “Is there a problem?”
She turned to him with a distinct frown on her face. “I suppose the fact that they gave away our rooms and they have nothing else available could be considered a problem.” The frustration in her voice was unmistakable as was the exhaustion written all over her face.
“Let me see what I can do.” Perhaps the exchange of French and English had created a miscommunication. He really hoped that was the case. “Did you make the reservation?”
“Yes. But they have no record of it.”
“Don’t give up just yet.”
Sage let out a yawn that spurred Trey into action. But after speaking with both the desk clerk and the manager, they still didn’t have any unoccupied rooms for the duration of the festival.
Trey knew with the festival taking place that there wouldn’t be any vacancies anywhere in Cannes. There were stories of A-list actors sleeping on the beach because when there’s no room available, there’s literally nothing available.
Trey had an alternative, but he didn’t like it. There was his family’s château. He still had a skeleton staff looking after it. He didn’t want to keep the place, but he couldn’t bring himself to sell it either. It made no sense, but that seemed to be a recurring theme in his life.
He withdrew his phone from his pocket and signaled to Sage that he would be right back. He’d made his housekeeper aware that he was flying in. She was anxious to discuss some issues concerning the château. He told her that he’d stop by when he had a free moment. He’d made it clear he didn’t plan to stay at the château so he had no idea what condition the house would be in. On top of that, he didn’t know how he’d explain any of this to Sage.
Just take it one problem at a time.
* * *
She’d made a mess of things.
Sage mentally kicked herself for not verifying the reservations. She’d meant to, but then she’d gotten distracted.
When Trey returned from making a call, she asked, “Did you come up with alternate lodging?”
“There’s nothing available. The city is filled to capacity with festivalgoers.”
