Page 64 of Paradise in Progress
“Skip the smart systems?” Leaning forward and placing my weight on my elbows, which are resting on the table, I glare at him. “We’ve been working on this for weeks. I know we’re close. We are close, right, Dave?”
Dave starts to answer my question, but Tristan cuts him off. “Close? It’s crashed twice this week, and God knows how many times yesterday.”
“We just need more time.”
“Time. Time. Time. That’s all you request. We don’t have more time, Kennedy.”
“And what are you suggesting,Tristan?” Disdain drips from my words. “Just scrap everything? We might not have time, but it’s going to take us even longer to rip everything out that has already been installed.”
“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. At least then we’ll know things will work and be reliable.”
An incredulous laugh erupts from my lips. “So you’re suggesting that we go back to door-to-door service and handwritten orders. Yeah, that’s going to speed things up.”
Tristan leans forward, his mouth opening, but I shove my hand in the air to silence him. “Nelson Signature promised a luxurious resort, including high-end amenities and modern technology. Smart systems are those improvements. We’re not going to paper menus and dumbing down the entire experience!”
“Enough with the dramatics, Kennedy. We’re still promising high-end amenities, but instead of top-of-the-line technology, we’ll have a reliable option, not a goddamn technological nightmare.”
I’m taken aback, physically shocked at his outburst, and it’s then that I know this isn’t his doing. Someone in New York is pulling the strings and Tristan is just the puppet. It pisses me off even more that he’s being controlled by the puppet master and not supporting the vision of this project.
Dave slams his notebook shut, startling me as my head whips in his direction. His eyes are wide as he bounces his head between the two of us. “Before you two kill each other, how about we take a deep breath? I’m sure we can all come up with a solution.”
“A solution would be for this to have been resolved already.” Tristan’s glare toward Dave is glacial and has me cringing in my chair.
Spinning toward Dave, I give him my full attention as I wait to see what suggestion he has. But not before sending Tristan a pointed look.
For the next twenty minutes, the three of us hash out a variety of ideas in a somewhat professional manner. Dave has a front-row seat at the Tristan and Kennedy show, where we fight each other on everything. After talking ourselves into circles, we concluded that we need to continue with the smart systems—which I said—but implement them in a phased approach. The worst-case scenario has appeared, and the solution is to continue rewiring the resort. No one loves where we’ve landed, but it’s better than scrapping the entire approach.
“I expect to see an updated timeline by tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow is Christmas, Tristan.”
“Kennedy,” he grumbles beneath his breath.
“What? I think we can give him until the twenty-six. He deserves to have the holiday off too.”
Dave gathers his items in his hands. “It’s no problem, Miss Kennedy. I’ll give you the new timeline by tomorrow. We’ll find a way to salvage this without all the drama.”
“Ha, there’s already plenty of drama,” Tristan adds as he stands from his chair and follows Dave to the conference room door. I watch the two exchange handshakes as I gather my items. I need to get the hell out of here and find some space away from Tristan.
The sound of the lock clicking sounds like a bomb going off in this tiny quiet space. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
I scoff, refusing to look up at him. But I don’t need to. Tristan’s energy is palpable. I can feel him erasing the space between us as he moves to the side of the table I’m standing in front of.
The heat from his front meets my back as he reaches down, grabbing the outside of my legs. His rough hands trail up my dress and the material feels like silk against my smooth skin. “What do you think you’re doing?” I ask, more breathily than I intended. I’m pissed off, and one touch already has me unraveling.
“Seeing you fight for what you want turns me on,” he whispers against my ear.
“So you were pissing me off on purpose?”
I feel his head shake as he kisses the spot where my neck and shoulder meet. I’m such a slut for this man. I know exactly what he’s talking about. It shouldn’t turn me on to fight with him, but God, it so does. The push-and-pull fuels our banter and my need for him only grows.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“No, I wasn’t trying to piss you off on purpose, but I love seeing that wild, firecracker side of you.”
My back straightens at that.
“Wait.” I spin around and place my hands on his chest. Confusion and concern line his features as he stares down at me.
