Page 41 of Hello Billionaire

“I learned you’re fair, kind, generous, thoughtful... principled.”

As if the spell had broken, he pulled back, sitting up straight. “I believe you have a meeting.”

The whiplash of his change in mood left me confused. “What? I...”

As if on cue, a knock sounded on the door. Cliff entered the room with Pascale Wilson, the best photographer in Dallas.

Next to Cliff’s very practical appearance and demeanor, Pascale looked that much more artistic. He had chin-length, dark brown hair that almost covered his wide, honey-brown eyes. His wide lips toyed the line between full and thin, and a short mustache covered his top lip. He wore an oversized navy-blue sweater with jeans rolled at the hems and worn leather ankle boots.

Coolwas the only word I could think of for him, and I couldn’t wait to get started on this project.

“Pascale, it’s so nice to meet you. I’m Farrah.” I shook his hand, noticing the tattoos at his knuckles that inked their way up his arm, under the sleeves of his sweater.

“Likewise,” he replied. His free hand adjusted the distressed leather messenger bag over his shoulder.

“I thought I could walk you around the hotel and then show you my design plans so you can get a feel for the sort of imagery that might enhance a project like this.”

“Let’s do it,” he said.

Cliff waved goodbye and walked back to the front of the hotel to resume his post. Feeling Gage’s eyes on my back, I led Pascale out of the conference room and through the spacious lobby, detailing my plans for the furniture, from the warm, sturdy furnishings to the modern check-in desk and dining area.

Then we walked down the hallway toward the elevator. “I’ll show you my favorite room.”

“Looking forward to it,” he replied, his voice low and soothing.

We rode up the elevator, his cologne something woodsy, but not quite pine, reminding me of winter and Christmas tree shopping. At the tenth floor, we got out, walking down the hallway with beautiful hardwood floors. We’d paid extra for underlayment that would muffle all noise underfoot so we wouldn’t have to install carpet, and aesthetically, it was more than worth it.

“We’re adding textured art pieces on the walls to absorb some sound,” I said, “but other than that, your photos will be the star of the show.” We reached the end of the hallway with a window overlooking the pool below and then the city sprawling around us. Since the room key system hadn’t been activated yet, I opened the door and stepped into the suite.

With the floors and trim installed, the space was full of promise. I walked to the bedroom, separated by a sliding door. “There will be a king bed against this wall with a textured, taupe-colored wall treatment. I’m thinking we could do an abstract painting over the bed, then photos on each side as well as on this wall.”

We stepped into the living area, where the fold-out sofa would be. “There’s going to be a sixty-inch flat screen on this wall, but there’s room over here for maybe a trio of photographs, and then something over the entry table here would round out the suites. There are six suites on each level, and then the rest are double and single rooms.”

He began reaching into his bag, but I said, “And don’t worry, I have all this written down, along with dimensions we’ll need.”

Lowering the leather flap, he said, “You’re very organized, Farrah.”

My cheeks heated at the compliment. I wasn’t very used to them. “Thank you.”

We walked through a single and double room, and then we went back downstairs, taking the second conference room so we wouldn’t interrupt Gage’s work. My computer was already there waiting for me, and I offered Pascale a chair while I opened my laptop to my design software and walked him through the pieces that would be coming in.

His eyes were alight with a million thoughts, and he said, “You have incredible taste. I honestly thought this hotel might be stuffy.”

I laughed. “I will take that as a huge compliment. Your work is so cool. I’m curious what type of looks you think might go with a place like this. I’d like for it to have meaning without being the cheesy ‘pictures of Dallas’ type photos.”

He leaned his elbows on the table, his chin in his hands. “Is there a feel you’re hoping the guests will experience?”

“Savor,” I said instantly. “Vacations with family can be so rare, and you’re usually rushing around, making sure everyone’s okay, knowing you’ve forgotten something, but you’re not sure what. I’m hoping everything about this space will encourage people to savor their moments, because as a mom of three, I know they’re gone all too soon.”

“Your husband and children are so lucky to have you,” he said, making my cheeks heat.

“My ex-husband and teenager might disagree with you, but there’s still hope for the younger two,” I joked. “So what do you think? Is that concept doable with the photos or is it too abstract?”

He scrubbed his hand over his chin. “This might seem a little crazy, but I have an idea.”

16

Gage

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