Chapter Seventeen

 

 

 

Maia stepped out of the airport and took a deep breath. After the long flight, wandering through the airport in Zurich felt fantastic. Unlike the other passengers who rushed to get through customs and out of the airport, Maia took a more leisurely approach. She wasn’t in any hurry. Taking a moment to just stretch her cramped limbs, she pulled out her phone and texted Jo to let her know that she had landed and that she would be off the planned path for a while.

Since she was a few days early, she fully intended on doing a little sightseeing and shopping before heading up to the resort in Zermatt.

She got the cab to take the scenic route through the city, something the driver had absolutely no problem with. On his way to drop her off at the hotel she’d booked only days before, he announced interesting locations and pointed out things that most tourists missed. She’d heard it mentioned before as being the perfect hotel in the perfect location for sightseeing in the city. So far, from what she saw so far, it was just that. Perfection.

Maia got out and looked up at the soaring building. The gleaming glass construct sat in the heart of the city straddling the line between the commercial and financial districts and no doubt made the most of both when it came to travelers for business and tourism.

With that in mind, she walked in and smiled. Where some hotels smacked patrons in the face with attempts to prove their lavishness, what she experienced in the lobby was a restrained luxury that took a discerning eye to fully appreciate. The gleaming marble floors and furniture, which she recognized as the work of a famous artisan, all whispered extravagance.

She loved it.

That was until she got to her room and flopped on the bed. On her way down into the heavenly soft down comforter, she caught a glimpse of the hotel logo on the corner of a pristine white sheet. There was no mistaking the interlocking golden G insignia.

Maia shot off the bed as if it was on fire. She grabbed the brochure off the desk and scanned it. Maia almost snorted when she got to the part where they gleefully announced they had recently joined the illustrious Girard Group.

Some travel writer she was. Why hadn’t she taken a closer look before booking?

She was exhausted, preoccupied and running from the memory of Alex, that’s why.

There was no way she was going to stay the night. Cursing her inattention, Maia smacked herself in the head with the brochure before putting it back in place. As she kicked her things toward the door, realization hit her and she shook her head. She was acting like a child. A cowardly and petulant one at that.

Taking a few deep breaths, she collected herself. She refused to scamper like a frightened little girl. Maia straightened her shoulders. She would leave, but not before she’d had something to eat. It would be a shame not to sample what the Girards had on offer. She might even be able to link this experience to the article on their hotel in Nice.

Locking the door behind her, she made her way down to the restaurant as her critical eye kicked in. Not that there was much to critique. Like everything else she’d seen of their hotels, it was superb.

Maia barely studied the menu before ordering. Despite the fatigue and the fact that she’d eaten on the plane, she was more than ready for a three course meal. At least.

While she waited, she sat back and took in the ambience. She could almost imagine the other patrons being hired actors to complete the scene. Everything screamed opulence and luxury. There wasn’t a thing that didn’t fit or was an inch out of place.

She let her mind wander as she listened to the conversations around her. It was something Maia enjoyed doing. Traveling alone, it became almost a game to try to guess who the speaker was, where they were from. Just listening to the voices and their accents, it didn’t even matter that she couldn’t understand most of what was being said. She liked the rhythms and cadence, imagining what they might be saying.

It made it easier for her to home in on conversations in English, however. As the two gentlemen behind her had drawn her attention with their Australian accents.

She half listened as they discussed business, but then her ears perked when they mentioned their upcoming trip to Zermatt.

“But we’d best leave soon,” said the one closest to her. “I hear there’s a storm coming and it’s going to be a big one.”

“No worries. I’ll just get the bookings changed and we’ll leave straight away.”

Just what Maia was thinking. She pulled out her phone and started dialing.

At least this way she didn’t have to admit to herself that she was running from another reminder of Alex.