On Greg’s second day there, he met Miriam Vale Martin at the bar, surrounded by assistants, magazine editors, stylists, and a famous photographer after a shoot. They had just finished a twelve-page spread for Vogue that afternoon, and as soon as they recognized Greg Bones, they invited him to join them. And what happened afterward hadn’t taken long. Miriam spent most of the following night in Greg’s suite with him, while Hugues thought she was out when he was working. The maids were all aware of where she was and what had happened-the room service waiters discovered it when Greg ordered champagne and caviar for them at midnight. And it rapidly became the backstairs talk of the hotel and spread like a forest fire. By the end of the week Hugues had heard about it too. He didn’t know whether to confront her or to hope it would pass.

Hugues, Miriam, and Heloise had their own private apartment one floor below the two penthouse suites, and the hotel security were well aware that Miriam was constantly slipping up the back stairs to join Greg in his suite, whenever Hugues was in his office. It was an extremely awkward situation for Hugues, who didn’t want to ask the famous rock star to leave the hotel. It would cause a public scandal. Instead he begged his wife to come to her senses and behave. He suggested she go away for a few days, to stop the madness of what she was doing. But when Bones checked out, she flew to Los Angeles with him on his private plane. She left Heloise with Hugues and promised she’d be back in a few weeks, and said this was something she had to get out of her system, and begged him to understand. It was a heartbreak and humiliation for Hugues, but he didn’t want to lose his wife. He hoped that if he let her do it, she’d get over her infatuation quickly. She was twenty-nine years old, and he thought she’d come to her senses. He loved her, and they had a child. But it was all over the tabloids by then, and on Page Six of the New York Post. It was a crushing humiliation for Hugues, in front of all of his employees and an entire city.

Hugues told Heloise that her mother had to go away to work, which was something that the little girl already understood at four. The story became harder to maintain when Miriam didn’t come home. And three months later, back in London with Greg Bones, Miriam told him she was filing for divorce. It had been the most devastating moment of his life, and although his demeanor with the guests was unchanged, and he was ever smiling and attentive to them, in the three years since, those who knew him well were aware that he had never been the same again. He was far more aloof, serious, deeply hurt, and withdrawn in his private moments, although he put a good face on it for his staff and guests.

Hugues had been the soul of discretion since the divorce. His assistant and some of his department heads were aware of quiet affairs he had had, occasionally with hotel guests or with well-bred or accomplished women around the city. He was one of the most sought-after bachelors in New York, invited to everything, although he rarely accepted. He preferred to keep a low profile, and keep his personal life to himself. And most of the time he was working at the hotel. The hotel came before all else for him, except for his daughter, who came first. He hadn’t had a serious relationship since Miriam left and didn’t want one. He believed that to run a hotel properly, you had to sacrifice your own life. He was always there, keeping an eye on everything, and working incredible hours, most of the time behind the scenes to ensure the smooth running of the hotel.

A month after her divorce from Hugues was final, Miriam married Greg Bones, and they had been married now for two years and had just had a baby girl six months before. Heloise had only seen her mother a few times since she left. Heloise was sad about it. And Hugues was angry at Miriam. She was too busy in her new life, too obsessed with Greg, and now their child, to tend to their daughter or even see her. Heloise and Hugues had become relics of her past. It left Hugues no other choice but to be both mother and father to their child. He never commented on it to Heloise, but he considered it a painful circumstance for them both.

At the hotel Heloise was constantly surrounded by doting surrogate mothers, at the concierge desk, in room service, the maids, the florist, the hairdresser, and the girls who worked in the spa. Everyone loved Heloise. They were no substitute for a real mother, but at least she had a happy life, adored her father, and at seven she was the princess of the Hotel Vendôme. Their regular guests knew her, and once in a while brought her little gifts, and thanks to her father’s attention to her education and manners, she was both adorable and extremely polite. She wore pretty little smocked dresses, and the hairdresser did her long red hair in braids with ribbons every day before she went to school at the Lycée Français nearby. Her father walked her to school every morning before he started work. Her mother called her once every month or two, if she remembered.

Hugues was at the front desk in the evening, as he often was when he had time away from other tasks, surveying the scene in the lobby, and greeting guests discreetly. He always knew exactly who was staying at the hotel. He checked the reservation ledgers daily, was aware of who was there, when they arrived, and when they’d be departing. And there was the familiar aura of calm in the lobby as guests were checking in. Mrs. Van Damme, a well-known aristocratic dowager, had just come in from her evening walk with her Pekingese, and Hugues walked her slowly to the elevator as he chatted with her. She had moved into one of the largest suites in the hotel the year before, and brought some of her own furniture with her, and some very important works of art. She had a son in Boston who seldom visited her, and she was extremely fond of Hugues, and Heloise had become the granddaughter she’d never had, having only grandsons, including one the same age as Heloise. She often spoke to Heloise in French, since Heloise went to the Lycée Français, and Heloise loved to join her on her walks with her dog. They would walk slowly, and Mrs. Van Damme would tell her stories of when she was a little girl. Heloise adored her.

“Where’s Heloise?” Mrs. Van Damme asked with a warm smile, as the elevator man waited for them, and Hugues chatted with her for a few minutes. He always made time for the guests. No matter how busy he was, he never looked it.

“Doing her homework upstairs, I hope.” And if not, they both knew she was probably roaming the hotel, visiting her friends. She loved pushing the maids’ carts, and distributing the lotions and shampoos, and they always gave her spares.

“If you see her, tell her to come and have tea with me when she’s finished,” Mrs. Van Damme said with a smile. Heloise often did that, and they shared tea sandwiches of cucumber or egg salad, and éclairs from room service. They had a British chef, originally from Claridge’s, who was in charge of only their high tea, which was the best in the city, even though their main chef was French, and had been personally recruited by Hugues too. He had his hand in every aspect of the hotel, whether “front of the house” or back. It was all part of what made the Hotel Vendôme so special. The staff was trained to provide personalized attention, and it started with Hugues.

“Thank you very much, Madame Van Damme,” Hugues said politely, smiling at her, as the elevator door closed. After that he walked back through the lobby, thought of his daughter, and hoped she was doing her homework, as he had said. He had other things on his mind, although he looked so totally unruffled that no one would have suspected the chaos that was going on in the basement of the hotel at that moment. They had had several calls from guests, since they had had to shut off the water to most of the floors half an hour before. They explained that they were doing some minor repairs, and the hotel operators and desk clerks were assuring anyone who called that they expected to have the water back on within the hour. But the truth was that a pipe had burst in the basement, every engineer and plumber in the hotel was working on it, and minutes before, outside plumbers had been called.

Hugues looked calm as he reassured everyone with a smile. Seeing him, one could only assume that he had everything in control. He mentioned the water shutoff lightly to each guest who checked in. He told them that water service would be restored imminently, and asked if room service could send anything to their room. He didn’t say it, but there would be no charge for it, of course, to make up for the lack of water and the inconvenience. He had preferred to stay in the lobby himself so arriving guests had a sense that all was in order. All he could hope was that the burst pipe could be located and repaired quickly. They were hoping that room service wouldn’t be forced to close; the main kitchen was already swimming in six inches of water, and everyone they could spare had been sent to the basement to help. There was no sign of any of it in the lobby. He was planning to go downstairs himself in a few minutes to check the situation again. And from what he was being told, the flood in the basement was getting worse. Despite all their renovations, it was after all an old hotel.

As Hugues greeted a Spanish aristocrat and his wife, just arriving from Europe, the scene in the basement was one of utter chaos. No one observing the calm appearance of elegance in the lobby could have suspected what a mess it was downstairs.

In the basement men were shouting, the water was rising, and a torrent of water burst from a wall, as engineers in brown uniforms waded through the flood, and were soaked from head to foot. Four plumbers were working on it, and all six of the hotel’s engineers had been called back into work. Mike, the head engineer, was close to where the torrent was coming from, and working like a demon to try and locate the source. He had a belt around his waist with a series of wrenches hanging from it, and as he tried one after another, a small voice behind him told him to try the biggest one. He turned in surprise as he heard the familiar voice over the ruckus, and saw Heloise standing there, watching him with interest. She was up to her knees in water, wearing a red bikini and a yellow slicker, and she pointed to the biggest wrench on his belt.