Ha-ha-ha! Grace thinks. Now, there’s a choice of words.
“You’re so independent. So…elusive.”
Magda puts a finger to Xavier’s lips. He takes her hand and pulls her in for a kiss. The flutes of champagne are set down. Magda and Xavier move for each other in such haste that Xavier’s knee jostles the table; his flute topples and champagne spills across the burled surface of the table and drips down onto the Persian rug, but neither Xavier nor Magda, with her eagle eye for cleanliness, seems to notice.
Downstairs at the front desk, the phone rings…but Richie isn’t at his post. No, he’s in Lizbet’s office on his cell phone. Again? Grace thinks. This must be a response to Kimber and the children leaving. She feels both sad and disappointed. Richie’s actions were so wholesome while he was in thrall to the romance; these calls had completely stopped.
Richie doesn’t answer the hotel phone the first time it rings, nor does he answer it when the same people call back. （Richie can see from checking the phone on Lizbet’s desk that it’s the Sparacinos in suite 316.） When the Sparacinos call back a third time, Richie abruptly finishes the call on his cell phone and picks up.
“Good evening, front desk,” he says as smoothly as a late-night DJ.
Mrs. Sparacino huffs. “There’s a couple making quite a lot of…noise in suite three seventeen. My husband has tried knocking on the wall but they don’t seem to get the hint. Would you call them, please? Ask them to be a little quieter?”
Richie assures Mrs. Sparacino that he will…but then it dawns on him that the guest in suite 317 is Xavier Darling.
Grace waits what she hopes is a sufficient amount of time for the passion to play out before returning to suite 317. Thankfully, Magda and Xavier are now tucked neatly under the covers, snuggled in among the pillows, enjoying their afterglow.
“I realize you love your work here,” Xavier says.
“I certainly do,” Magda says. “I loved it on the ships and I enjoy it even more here on land.”
“But Magda, you have so much money. You’ve seen the latest statements? We’re well past the twenty-million mark.” He tickles her under the covers and she giggles like a girl before swatting him away. “You’ve come a long way from the night we met.”
“I won nearly a quarter million that night,” Magda says. “I put down my own hard-earned money, I placed the bets, I rolled the dice.”
“But you invested it with my people…”
“Yes, you helped me build the fortune. It’s possible that I’ve never really felt entitled to the money for that reason, although, don’t get me wrong, it’s nice knowing it’s there.”
“I’d like to see you enjoy it,” Xavier says.
Magda sits up straighter and checks her hair; strands have fallen out of her bun, and she tucks them back in. “We’re a lot alike. You have billions and you won’t stop working until you’re dead.”
“I’ll retire immediately if you agree to marry me,” Xavier says.
Magda squawks. “What kind of foolish thing is that to say?”
“I’ve been in love with you since the second I met you on that ship. I know you want to be close to Zeke and William, but it’s been nearly a year. I’m sure they only want you to be happy. Marry me, Magda. Come to London.”
Eeeeeee! Grace thinks. She’s swirling around the room like a funnel cloud. Xavier loves Magda! He’s proposing—and unlike Jack, who promised Grace every time he visited the storage closet that he would divorce Dahlia and marry her, Xavier means it. He probably already has a ring picked out.
Xavier reaches over to his nightstand, opens the little curved drawer, and produces a box from Harry Winston.
He sits up in bed, the covers still （thankfully） smooth across his lap, and presents the box to Magda.
“What have you done, Xavier?” she says.
“I went all in,” Xavier says. “Open it.”
Magda opens the box to reveal a movie-star engagement ring. It’s a light pink oval diamond—Grace doesn’t know carats from carrots but it’s big—in a setting of pavé diamonds and rose gold.
“Well,” Magda says.
“Try it on.”
Magda snaps the box closed. “Oh, Xavier, I can’t try it on. I’m not going to marry you. I think you’re a wonderful man and I’m very grateful for all you’ve done for me.” She stares up at the exact spot where Grace is hovering; Grace holds her gaze, even though she knows that all Magda sees is the Nantucket night sky painted on the ceiling. “I consider you a dear friend. You make me laugh; I enjoy your company and a little roll in the hay, because at my age, I’m happy I can still roll. But I don’t love you. I do love this hotel and this job and being able to keep an eye on Zeke and William. I’ve been looking at some real estate on Eel Point Road, houses with ocean views and a pool and gardens. I haven’t found the right one yet, but my plan, Xavier, is to stay here. I’m happy here.”