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“Ah, loyalty to the firm. That’s commendable.”
I sip my wine, knowing I should stick to water. This man could trip me up with his relaxed conversation and easy manner. I’m caught in a trap of wanting to be a good conversationalist and not giving away the hotel’s weak points at the same time.
“What about you? Your paperwork said you’re from New York.”
“I was born in the U.K to a British mother and a French-American father. I’ve lived in the U.S all my life pretty much, in and out of international schools.”
“Why international schools?”
“My mother wanted me to have a broad education. She thought it would be useful if I had an international career.”
I guess Luca becoming a mystery shopper for hotels worldwide proves her case.
The wine goes down easily as we discuss ski resorts, what we like about them, and how they differ. Tempted to ask him about his favorite places, about his mystery shopper job, I hold back my questions, remembering my role as an employee and not a friend.
Or date.
“Have you always worked at Stein Hotel?”
“No. I started out with Hilton, then moved to Wardorff-Messen in Aspen two years later. I was there until five months ago.”
Luca’s eyes flick over my face briefly before looking away. There’s no godly reason why I’d leave WM to work here unless there was a major fuck-up on my side, and thankfully he’s discrete enough not to delve for further information. Instead, the conversation meanders onto hotels, exclusive ones, and how they stand out in a sea of options.
“What is Wardorff-Messen’s USP then?” Luca asks.
“That’s easy; it runs like clockwork, slick and fast.”
He chuckles, an inviting, addictive sound. “Guests don’t notice the clockwork. They notice the cleanliness, the quality of the food, the decor.”
“True. But they’re so busy being swept from one thing to the next, that they don’t have time to criticize. It’s when the service around you stalls, turns clunky, when the world you’re in stops moving that you notice the defects.”
Appraising eyes scan my face. “Interesting. And would you say WM is the best because of their smooth operation?”
“No. But it’s close.”
“Who then?” he asks, genuinely interested.
“For me, for many,” I stress, “it’s Chateau B.”
The name is legendary in Aspen, an abbreviation of the very first Chateau Balthazar. It embodies exclusivity, sophistication, and exemplary service. It’s a rival WM has tried to outmatch for decades, never succeeding. With around four hundred executive bedrooms over ten floors, it dwarfs most of its neighbors in sheer size. And visually, it’s an unparalleled beauty, nothing coming close to its European architectural style of fairy-tale castles with steep-roofed turrets and towers. It’s undoubtedly the most picturesque place in the area,andit backs onto the best ski runs.
Luca is waiting for my reasoning, so I say, “For starters, have you seen their landmark property in Aspen? Chef’s kiss,” I tell him, smiling. “The most beautiful, iconic hotel in the Rockies. It’s practically faultless.”
Amused, he asks, “How can you improve on faultless?”
“Practicallyfaultless,” I correct, to his playful scoff.
“Let’s hear it.”
Discussing the intricacies of hotel management is not something I’ve been able to do much of recently. So Luca’s inquiries have me relaxed, despite the uncertainty of what’s going on here. Between us. But talking hotels allows me to regain some control, some semblance of my role here which is not to sit and admire the man next to me, enjoying the sound of his velvet-deep voice and watching his every masculine move.
Pushing all of those worries to one side, I speak from the heart, enjoying this unexpected opportunity. “The towers,” I begin, referencing the wonderful, chateau-style embellishments for which Chateau Balthazar Aspen is renowned. “I understand the family has exclusive access to them.” Everyone knows the family lives in the hotel. “I think there should be an opportunity for guests to experience them. It’s why they choose that hotel above all others, and yet all they can do is admire the architecture from the outside.”
“The family are private. I don’t think they’d want guests exploring their living quarters.”
“There are four turrets. Couldn’t one be given over to paying guests?”
“I doubt they want to be compared to Disney World.”
