fireplace, bookcases stuffed with leather-bound books and a stunning Louise Kennedy chandelier that never fails to take my breath away. The furniture is fabulous too, sofas covered in gorgeous lavender damask fabric, long cream silk cushions and curtains to match and tastefully chosen paintings dotting the walls. The designers really have thought of everything; even the fabrics have been carefully covered in protective plastic, till the builders finally leave us in peace.
The Lavender Room, as we’ve taken to calling it and I’m bloody proud of what we’ve done here; it’s elegant and graceful, yet so comfortable and inviting too; the kind of place designed to chill out in. Just perfect for the clientele we’re hoping to attract. An awful lot of work went into it, but instead of having a good, thorough nose around, Rob just strides around the perimeter, checks the view from the window, plonks down on one of the sofas, as though testing it for squidginess, and then is straight back up on his feet again. Like he’s seen all he wants to and is anxious to move on. Fast.
‘So,’ I tell him, flailing my arms around like a tour guide, ‘you’ll notice the fireplace in here has been completely restored and the chandelier was specially ordered in from …’
‘Yeah, yeah, yeah. Lovely. Great. Purple walls, whatever.’
‘Eh, actually they’re lavender.’
‘You’ll have to forgive me,’ he says dryly, ‘but then I doubt there’s many guys who’d successfully be able to distinguish between purple and lavender. Okay to keep moving?’
‘Emm … riiight. But, you know there’s still an awful lot in here I’d like to point out to you …’
‘Apologies for this, Chloe,’ he cuts across me, ‘but I haven’t got long till I’ve to get back to the airport, I’m afraid. For the moment at least, this needs to be just an initial whistle-stop tour. So come on, impress me.’
‘Well sure, but don’t you want to know when the painters will finish the skirting boards in here? Or why the …’
‘Do I look like the kind of guy who’s interested in skirting boards?’
There’s just no right answer to that.
‘I haven’t time to be a micromanager,’ he goes on, striding for the door so fast, I nearly have to sprint to keep up. ‘Which is exactly why you’re here, you see. Your job is to worry about all the ins and outs for me. Mine is to oversee it as and when I can, and to bollock everyone out of it, if necessary. And here, so far at least, I can see I don’t have to. So come on, show me the bar now.’
I’m just trying to figure out if that was an actual compliment or not, but there’s no time. Two seconds later and we’re on the move to the fabulous bar area, which is also just off Reception, right behind the Lavender Room. It’s old-fashioned in style, completely in keeping with the age of the house, mahogany and wood panelled. Which, with full credit to the design team, is looking remarkably well. Deep, plush green leather sofas are dotted around with a pale green silk fabric covering the walls. It’s going to be stunning, completely breathtaking and yet once again, Rob says nothing, just strides around, taking it all in and nodding every now and then. Jeez, I think. All the money this is costing him and he’s not inspecting it more closely?
Tommy Kennedy, our ridiculously attractive barman is in situ, unloading crates and setting up behind the bar, so I introduce him to Rob.
‘Howaya,’ Tommy grins cheekily as they shake hands, but then Tommy’s just not the type to get remotely fazed by the fact that his boss’s boss has just landed in on top of him.
Tommy is by far the youngest staff member we’ve got round here, just twenty-four, built like a rugby prop forward and with a Kerry accent that makes absolutely everything he says sound adorable. Chris and I interviewed him a few weeks back and hired him on the spot. He’s a fantastic mixologist and it’s always a bonus, as she wisely
The Lavender Room, as we’ve taken to calling it and I’m bloody proud of what we’ve done here; it’s elegant and graceful, yet so comfortable and inviting too; the kind of place designed to chill out in. Just perfect for the clientele we’re hoping to attract. An awful lot of work went into it, but instead of having a good, thorough nose around, Rob just strides around the perimeter, checks the view from the window, plonks down on one of the sofas, as though testing it for squidginess, and then is straight back up on his feet again. Like he’s seen all he wants to and is anxious to move on. Fast.
‘So,’ I tell him, flailing my arms around like a tour guide, ‘you’ll notice the fireplace in here has been completely restored and the chandelier was specially ordered in from …’
‘Yeah, yeah, yeah. Lovely. Great. Purple walls, whatever.’
‘Eh, actually they’re lavender.’
‘You’ll have to forgive me,’ he says dryly, ‘but then I doubt there’s many guys who’d successfully be able to distinguish between purple and lavender. Okay to keep moving?’
‘Emm … riiight. But, you know there’s still an awful lot in here I’d like to point out to you …’
‘Apologies for this, Chloe,’ he cuts across me, ‘but I haven’t got long till I’ve to get back to the airport, I’m afraid. For the moment at least, this needs to be just an initial whistle-stop tour. So come on, impress me.’
‘Well sure, but don’t you want to know when the painters will finish the skirting boards in here? Or why the …’
‘Do I look like the kind of guy who’s interested in skirting boards?’
There’s just no right answer to that.
‘I haven’t time to be a micromanager,’ he goes on, striding for the door so fast, I nearly have to sprint to keep up. ‘Which is exactly why you’re here, you see. Your job is to worry about all the ins and outs for me. Mine is to oversee it as and when I can, and to bollock everyone out of it, if necessary. And here, so far at least, I can see I don’t have to. So come on, show me the bar now.’
I’m just trying to figure out if that was an actual compliment or not, but there’s no time. Two seconds later and we’re on the move to the fabulous bar area, which is also just off Reception, right behind the Lavender Room. It’s old-fashioned in style, completely in keeping with the age of the house, mahogany and wood panelled. Which, with full credit to the design team, is looking remarkably well. Deep, plush green leather sofas are dotted around with a pale green silk fabric covering the walls. It’s going to be stunning, completely breathtaking and yet once again, Rob says nothing, just strides around, taking it all in and nodding every now and then. Jeez, I think. All the money this is costing him and he’s not inspecting it more closely?
Tommy Kennedy, our ridiculously attractive barman is in situ, unloading crates and setting up behind the bar, so I introduce him to Rob.
‘Howaya,’ Tommy grins cheekily as they shake hands, but then Tommy’s just not the type to get remotely fazed by the fact that his boss’s boss has just landed in on top of him.
Tommy is by far the youngest staff member we’ve got round here, just twenty-four, built like a rugby prop forward and with a Kerry accent that makes absolutely everything he says sound adorable. Chris and I interviewed him a few weeks back and hired him on the spot. He’s a fantastic mixologist and it’s always a bonus, as she wisely
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