A Perfect Vintage by Chelsea Fagan

Author:Chelsea Fagan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gatekeeper Press

Hours later—because she couldn’t get away from dinner, couldn’t say no to dessert, couldn’t cut any of the giddy conversations short that had been raised by the official launch of Hôtel Château Victoire’s social media presence and the coordinated influencer campaign blowing up everyone’s Google Alerts—and Lea was finally dragging her stone-heavy body up the stairs. The launch was a success, at least, even if every bit of the usual joy she experienced from this part of the process was drained by her conversation with Théo, who didn’t look at her once during dinner, making only an errant compliment here and there about the rollout, especially when Gabriel said something casually dismissive of the influencers she’d chosen to help promote the launch.

It was as exhausted as she’d ever felt, and her sadness, combined with the last dregs of her hangover headache, left her feeling delirious, ready to sleep for twelve straight hours, and unsure if she could find the arm strength to wash her face.

“Lee, hi,” Stephanie said, catching her on the landing of the guest room floor, already in her drapey, caftan-like nightdress with her hair pulled up into a neat, terry cloth turban. “Do you have a minute?”

Lea couldn’t even form a coherent “of course,” settling instead for a gentle nod.

Stephanie led her into her guest suite, a less common meeting ground for the two of them, but still a familiar one. Despite being its mirror image from a decor standpoint, her room felt nothing like Lea’s. Stephanie had dedicated space in her luggage for some of her favorite framed photos and knickknacks, smiling pictures of Maya and Lea and Rachida, her teacher friends, and a beach vacation in which she looked particularly gorgeous. (Lea always wrinkled her nose at the last photo: it was from a double-date trip she and David had taken to the Turks and Caicos with Stephanie and Marcus, a silent reminder of the era in her life where she was actually capable of a long-term relationship.)

Little, hand-carved wooden animals Stephanie had brought back from her first solo trip to Jordan dotted the nightstands, seeming to welcome Lea into the room, and there were also a few too many empty water glasses, which Lea immediately cataloged. The bed hadn’t been made that morning, but it all felt like Stephanie, warm and loving and full of history. The two of them sat down across from each other at the vanity and armchair, instantly at home.

“I want you to do me a favor,” Stephanie started, unusually frank. “Whoa—is your lip okay? I didn’t notice at dinner.”

She’d totally forgotten about her split lip, and the sound of yet more tasks to add to her never-ending to-do list was like fresh hell, but Lea was too tired to protest. “It’s fine. I hit my face earlier by accident. What’s up?”

“I need you to talk to Chloë.”

“What? Did something happen?”

“No.” Stephanie paused, grabbing yet another half-empty glass of water from the vanity. “Well, nothing that hasn’t been happening since we got here.

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