Chantal Sureau is a legal secretary. Pretty ugly, pretty ungenerous, pretty frigid… she hates vacations, saves her money, and comes once every two months with Jean-Baptiste Coquerel, a widowed accountant whom she met through a want ad. She thinks the world of herself and is saving all her energy for the big day, when something worthy of her will finally happen...
One rainy morning, Maître Fumikogi, a Japanese lawyer, leaves an extremely important contract at the office. Miss Sureau, the faithful secretary, brings the precious document to his hotel, the Georges V. Soaked, sweaty and impressed, she is enchanted with the palace’s discreet luxury. It’s love at first sight! From now on, once a year, Chantal Sureau metamorphoses into Madame. In a superb, chauffeur-driven navy-blue Jaguar XJ6 rented for a few hours, she occupies the Sevigné suite at the Grand Condé Hotel where, for two days she is transformed into the richest, most beautiful, most odious and most extravagant of women. But this year, the head waiter, Monsieur Roger, is planning to call on the services of one Raoul Torres, a.k.a. Marquis de la Torre — a well-known con man  — to swindle Madame.
What’s more, the Director of Banquets and Ceremonies, Monsieur Chaput-Toussaint, finds out just before Madame’s grand entrance, that he has been fired by the hotel’s new management. For two whole days, Raoul de la Torre, the fake Marquis, and Monsieur Chaput-Toussaint, the ex-director pretending to be what he no longer is, will do their best to tempt, beg, argue, harass and generally finagle Madame into letting them handle her immense personal fortune — which doesn’t exist.
Droll, cynical and theatrical, Grand Conde Suite is a caustic novel about lying.