Page 177 of Chandelier Enthralled
Aunt Rose had literally chosen The Beverly Majestic, the hotel that Greyson had designed. I couldn’t wait to share this with her. It was fun to be back here.
The foyer unfolded like an opulent dream, where every detail whispered of luxury. Only now did I notice Greyson’s incredible talent, his gift of inviting in the light. It poured in, casting a warm glow across the foyer and flooding the space with a brilliance that made the polished floors gleam.
The concierge walked toward me. “Ms. Cole, this way, please.”
The fact he had been expecting me proved the kind of respect Aunty elicited. She probably had all the staff hopping around her with her usual grace.
As I entered the fine dining restaurant, I noticed other guests were dressed in designer outfits, their whispers lost beneath the classical strains of a stringed quartet. The mirrors lining the walls reflected the grandeur of the place.
Aunt Rose was sitting alone in a corner booth, a vision of sophisticated loveliness. Her glowing smile always made me feel at home. She pushed up from the table to greet me, catching a few admiring glances.
Her confidence always inspired me.
She had her silver hair swept back with a precision that never seemed severe. Her dress was a sheath of midnight blue silk. The fabric caught the light, revealing subtle hints of amethyst that emphasized her poise. The pearls at her wrist spoke of timeless elegance.
“Willa,” she said with affection. “You look wonderful.”
I leaned forward and gently kissed her cheek, and she pulled me into a hug. Her delicate perfume carried a hint of orange blossoms and jasmine, mingled with something else that felt soothing—the welcome of home.
“You look wonderful, too,” I said, joining her at the table. “This hotel is new. Did you know?”
“Yes, the food comes highly recommended.”
Her radiance remained untouched by time. As I sat opposite her, the staff moved around us as if they were in the presence of royalty. Rose had a regal aura.
The waiter came to take our drinks order. Rose chose white wine to go with the seafood we were both in the mood for.
“I was at the opening of this hotel,” I told her. “Met the architect.”
She looked disinterested, which I found surprising. Then again, Rose was often invited to impressive events around the world.
She gave me a sympathetic glance. “I hear you and Hugo…”
“Yes, we’re no longer together.”
“Your brother told me a few things. I understand this might be painful.”
“It’s getting easier.”
She studied me for a long moment and then put on her reading glasses and studied the menu—her way of dismissing Hugo.
My shoulders slumped as I reluctantly went back to that place of sadness and embarrassment. “He wasn’t who I believed him to be.”
“Oh, dear.”
“He did something…”
A waiter appeared and took our order, and I had to pause at the interruption. We both waited patiently as he poured two glasses of wine. I wasn’t sure I wanted to day drink, but this seemed to make her happy.
“Whose decision?” she asked.
“Mine,” I admitted. “I was devastated, at first, but I’m getting over him.”
“Do we need to send in Shay to assassinate him?”
Laughing, I almost spat out my wine.
“Cameron tells me Hugo is out of your place now.” She flipped her napkin onto her lap.
