Chapter 3 The Future Of Hamilton Hotels

• The icy January sky embraced me with its gray melancholy that morning, as if reflecting my mood in tandem with my emotions. I felt a shiver as I looked through the window of my room while tying my tie with trembling hands. I was preparing for my grandmother's funeral, the woman who had taught me everything I knew about business and life.
• My father's words echoed in my head like a persistent echo: "He told me he would leave you his shares." I knew the responsibilities that came with that action, but I was ready for it. At least, that’s what I wanted to believe.
• I had shared with Ericka the revelation my father had made to me, and she was excited about the idea of being the partner of a CEO. Despite that, I still couldn't grasp the fact that I would be leading the Hamilton hotel chain, founded by my grandfather with effort and dedication.
• However, the day had come, and today would be her funeral. My grandmother had passed away after a long battle with Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, which had caused irreversible cellular degeneration until her body could no longer withstand it. Now, in just a few days, I would be named the new CEO, and I would have to make important decisions for the future of the company.
• I grabbed the car keys and headed to the cemetery. I intended to stop by my parents' house, but a message from my mother informed me that they were already there, waiting for me.
• The funeral ceremony was emotional; strangers offered their condolences to me and my father. My grandmother was a respectable woman; before her illness, she was always active in the family business and was known as "The Iron Lady." I had never seen her as a fragile woman; after my grandfather's death seven years ago, she had moved forward, demonstrating her strength and firmness in every decision.
• Since I was a child, I admired her deeply. I felt her loss, but I was not someone to show my emotions, especially in public. I remained calm and stoic throughout the ceremony, even though my heart ached inside.
• I needed Ericka, but an opportunity abroad had come up for her, and her modeling contract didn’t allow her to accompany me. I knew it was the perfect excuse for her not to feel obligated to be with me during this difficult time. I had already gotten used to the fact that she didn’t like family events. I just hoped that would change when I made her my wife.
• After my grandmother's funeral, I decided to walk and clear my mind. I had avoided my parents' invitation to go to their house. I simply wanted to be alone.
• I parked the car downtown and walked aimlessly through the avenues, feeling the cold air trying to seep through my suit. Even though I was wearing an overcoat, I knew it wasn’t the ideal time for a walk. The streets weren’t as crowded as usual due to the weather. The sky was overcast and threatened to rain at any moment.
• I looked for a place where I could be quiet; I didn’t want company, but I also didn’t want to stay alone in my apartment. For a moment, I found myself staring at the facade of a restaurant. It looked familiar, so I searched my memory trying to recall any hint. The image of a woman with black hair and blue eyes came to me; I remembered attending the restaurant's opening and seeing her there. Her beauty had captivated me from the first moment, but I hadn’t had the chance to talk to her.
• I quickly headed toward the reception area, glancing at my watch; it was twenty minutes to one in the afternoon. A blonde woman behind the counter attended to me.
• — Good afternoon, welcome to Rasetti Restaurant. Do you have a reservation? — she asked kindly.
• — Good afternoon, miss. No, I don’t — I admitted.
• She looked at me with an apologetic expression on her face.
• — I'm sorry, we don’t have a table available.
• — That's fine — I replied, a bit disappointed.
• I directed my gaze inside the restaurant; despite the hour, the place was busy, but not overcrowded. The atmosphere was shaded in neutral colors, with tables perfectly arranged and chairs upholstered in cream and gold tones. The white tablecloths had blue and gold details that completed the harmony. In the background, a small orchestra played classical music that perfectly enhanced the ambiance.
• I continued scanning the surroundings, perhaps searching for that blue-eyed angel I couldn’t forget. Would she be there? What would I do if I saw her? Would she recognize me? Would I dare to speak to her? I felt nervous and excited at the same time. In the end, I gave up, realizing it was almost impossible to find her among so many people.
• I headed toward the exit, my mind analyzing the situation, looking for a way to see her again. On the day of the opening, she had been on the arm of Mr. Rasetti, so I suspected she was his daughter. Maybe I could call him and ask for a meeting to discuss business, giving me an excuse to go to the restaurant again. Or perhaps I could wait for her to leave and discreetly follow her home. Or maybe I could...
• A thunderclap jolted me from my thoughts, and I looked up at the sky. Then it started to rain.
• ***
• The day of the will reading had arrived; it was eight in the morning. The lawyer had summoned us for ten. I wanted to arrive early; I felt anxious, my nerves on edge at the thought of discovering part of the contents of that document.
• I had received an early message from Ericka expressing her love and pride in me. She made me feel like a teenager; I loved her craziness and the glow she radiated when we were together.
• The image of that blue-eyed angel came to my mind again, causing a flutter in my stomach. I had talked to Ericka about her, without giving too many details. I liked seeing her jealous, but I had assured her that she was the only woman in my life. Still, the memory of the angel kept me intrigued.
• I had never felt anything like this for another woman; her mere presence made me forget everything else around me. Since the day I saw her in the restaurant, she frequently occupied my thoughts. I needed to know why.
• Who was she? What was her relationship with Mr. Rasetti? What did I feel for her? These were questions that tormented me, and I couldn’t answer them. I only knew that I had to see her again, even if it was just once more.
• Upon arriving at my parents' house, I hugged them both, especially my mother. I saw her with red eyes and a pale face; I knew she had cried a lot over her mother-in-law's death. Since the day of the funeral, three days ago, I hadn’t come to visit them. I was never good with sadness, and I preferred to be alone on days like that. They had always respected that about me.
• I took advantage of arriving an hour early for the meeting with the lawyer to propose a private conversation with my father. We headed to his office, a spacious and elegant place filled with books, diplomas, and family and business photos.
• — Dad — I began once I sat down across from him on a leather sofa — there’s something I want to discuss with you before the will reading.
• He looked at me with interest and nodded.
• — Some time ago — I continued — I was thinking of an idea for the hotels. I know we have good cuisine and catering service for the rooms, but I feel it’s not enough for some guests staying at our hotels.
• He looked at me attentively and gestured for me to continue.
• — So, I have in mind a proposal to have a restaurant in each of the hotels. A quality restaurant, with a varied menu and a cozy atmosphere. I believe that would give us more prestige and more clients.
• — Do you already have a restaurant in mind? — he asked, showing interest in my proposal.
• I nodded. He clasped his hands and said:
• — Adrien, as I told you that day in my office, I know your grandmother will be leaving you her shares, which makes you the majority partner, above me.
• — I know, but I still don’t want to overshadow you, Dad. You are my mentor and my role model. I want your opinion and your support.
• He stood up from his chair, and I did the same. He shook my hand firmly and then hugged me.
• — I have never doubted your ability, son — he assured me — I know you will be a good manager, even better than I am. I am proud of you.
• — Thank you, Dad, your trust is gratifying for me.