The doorman nods as he holds the door for us to enter the Causerie—the hotel bar. I carry Lucas in and Violet enters ahead of us. The bar at Claridge’s is known for being one of the best in the world. The great, late Spencer Tracy once said, “Not that I intend to die, but when I do, I don’t want to go to heaven. I want to go to Claridge’s.” It takes a great deal of self-control not to sidle up to the bar with Lucas in my arms and ask for their best bourbon, to wash away the stress of the past thirty minutes. “The tearoom is near the lobby, isn’t it?” I ask Violet and she smiles at me over her shoulder. “Yes, tea is served in the foyer. I studied the hotel website this morning,” she replies, slowing down so she can walk next to me. “One of the bellman offered to give me a tour of the facilities, but I didn’t think that was appropriate.” “Appropriate?” “I just meant… because I’m here as your employee. It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to spend my time… elsewhere.”
