Page 7 of Paradise in Progress
Heat spreads across my cheeks as I flip the phone face down to obscure it from the man on my right, hoping and praying he didn’t look over my shoulder to see the message. But based on the hard set in his jaw, I think it’s safe to say, he’s more annoyed by the interruption. Fumbling with the phone, I bring my hands to the table, folding them, and focusing back on the reason we’re gathered here.
“If everyone is finally ready, we’ll get this meeting started,” Xander says, startling me. I didn’t even realize he was sitting in this room when I walked in.
Get it together, Ken. Stop thinking about him.
Xander stands from his seat and strides over to a screen, where he clicks a few buttons on his laptop. A PowerPoint presentation appears before us, and I open a blank document on my computer to take notes.
“Being hungover isn’t an excuse to be late,” Tristan whisper-hisses for only me to hear.
My jaw drops, but I snap it closed. “I had a doctor's appointment, not that it’s any of your business,” I say, but keep my gaze on my computer, refusing to give him the time of day.
“Is that really the excuse you want to go with?” He scoffs before leaning closer. His shoulder touches mine, and I fight the urge to pull away. I’m standing tall, because I will not let him affect me. “Whoknew you were so sloppy on weeknights? No wonder you always come in second place.”
Hatred courses through my veins with every word. I don’t know why I thought one night of us hanging out after work would instantly change my opinion of him. He’s still the same arrogant, entitled jerk.
“As some of you may know, Nelson Signature has recently acquired a failing resort,” Xander says, causing my full attention to bounce back to him, where a slide includes photos of a tropical destination. “It’s an all-inclusive resort in St. Lucia. By acquiring the property, we have unfortunately gained its poor reputation.”
He flips to the next slide on the PowerPoint, and comments litter the screen with one negative review after another. My eyes scan words likedirty, outdated, rude staff, unsafe, and below luxury standardsall over the screen.
Yikes, this is not what someone wants to read when they spend thousands of dollars to vacation at a luxury resort.
Xander paces in front of the projector. “As you can see, the reviews are not good. Along with an entire facelift of the property, including a new layout, design to match our company’s luxurious elements, and upgrading the technology, we’ll need to work on completely rebranding the image of this resort, not only with tourists, but locals as well.” Xander pauses and stares at each one of us.
“Emails will be sent after this meeting to break up the architectural and interior design teams. You’ll be working with each other to brainstorm ideas on how to elevate this resort. You have one week to come up with a complete design pitch. Once it’s approved, the St. Lucia resort will be your only priority. By shutting down this resort for an entire year to do this remodel, we’re losing a lot of money. Makingthis a top priority project, we expect to be completed within eighteen months.”
People begin scurrying around the room, no doubt rushing to their desks to get started. But I can’t find it in me to move. I stare straight ahead as thoughts invade my mind about how I can win this competition–pitch. A mix of anxiety and excitement has me frozen. After all those years I spent doodling in my sketchbook of different buildings and landscapes, it’s finally the moment I’ve been waiting for to put my work out there.
“Good luck, Firecracker,” Tristian says. I turn to face him and that stupid, smug grin. “You’re going to need it.” And then he shoots me a wink.
Holding back a huff, I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest and letting confidence take over. “I’m not competing againstyou.”
“No, sweetheart,” he says, leaning into my space, his cedar and citrus scent flooding my senses. When the hell did we get so close? “But I’ll be one of the deciding votes, remember? This is my project.” With a light, condescending pat on the table, he stands from his chair and makes his way over to his brother and Xander’s assistant.
That motherfu–
“Kenny!” Zoe whisper-shouts from across the room. She gestures to the door, and I grab my electronics before I’m up off my chair and hustling out of the room. I refuse to spare Tristan any more of my attention, but that doesn't mean I don’t feel his eyes on me as I walk away.
“Is it safe to assume you won’t be coming out for dinner tonight?” Zoe questions as she pushes open the door to the stairwell.
“Are you kidding me? I won’t be leaving the office until I have a solid plan. Takeout for one, please.”
Zoe shakes her head as the sound of heels clicking against the metal stairs fills the space. “Girl, it’s not that deep.”
“Would you stop?” I laugh at Zoe’s constant need to incorporate one phrase the “kids are saying these days.” Her words, not mine. She said that one day she was standing in a coffee shop surrounded by teenagers and she had no clue what they were saying, so in her vow not to seem too old, she’s going to learn their language. Zoe is barely thirty; it’s not like she’s old by any means.
Once we step onto our floor, it’s mayhem. People are running around, trying to figure out where to start with this project, but it looks like Wall Street and the stocks just dropped. One thing I like about working here is that the company isn’t afraid of a little friendly competition. I’ve been competing my whole life in some aspect or another, so it feels like just another day.
“I’m running to pick up lunches at Green Goddess if you ladies want anything,” Jill, an intern, calls to us from her cubicle. Stopping at her desk, I reach for a sticky note before jotting down my go-to Green Goddess order–a simple grilled chicken Cobb salad without the bleu cheese.
We thank her before going our separate ways.
Running my fingers through my hair, I let out an exasperated sigh. For hours, I’ve been glued to my computer, researching the country of St. Lucia. When it comes to a new project, it’s important for me tonot only look at what design style speaks to the location while fitting into our company’s branding, but also look at what would make this location stand out from its competitors.
Since this is an acquisition, we have to rebrand the image of the resort, which Xander stressed in the meeting. There’s a negative connotation associated with the resort, which means our property management team and marketing team need to do a great job at recreating the location’s image.
The issue Nelson’s is facing is that locals are against the new buyout, and without the support of the locals, things could go south quickly.
Stretching my hands out in front of me, I tip my neck up, working out the kinks. I notice the outside of my right hand is smeared with lead from where I’ve been sketching all afternoon. Which I’m not complaining about. Despite new technology making things easy, I’d prefer my pencil and sketchbook to draw out the first concept. It’s more freeing.
