It was, Connor said, the most thorough filing project of his brief career in architectural administration.
She drove home at two-thirty, slept for four hours, and was back at the office by seven with her linen blazer pressed to a crisp finish and her notes in perfect order.
She’d show Vance Brennan exactly whatKiddo and Companywas made of.
The conference roomat the Design Center was full by seven-fifty.
Greg Hollister sat at the head of the table, a tall, good-looking man in his mid-sixties with silver hair and an air of success. He’d built this company from the ground up, developed thousands of acres in northwest Florida, and didn’t suffer fools.
Nor, Meredith suspected, did he relish an emergency morning meeting to find fault with the architectural firm he’d personally handpicked.
Beside him, the two interchangeable sales associates, Andrew and William, looked like they knew there would be fireworks and high-quality water cooler gossip when it was all over.
Doug Fenton was there, coffee in hand, his stocky frame angled slightly away from Vance Brennan, who sat at the middle of the table with his clipboard and an expression of smug arrogance.
Her father had purposely chosen a seat on the side, leaving the other head of the rectangular table for Meredith. The movesignaled that this was not his show, and earned a surprised flicker from Vance.
Meredith was grateful to see Dad looked rested, or at least less destroyed than last night, and when she sat down and caught his eye, he gave her a secret smile.
Connor sat at the corner next to her with his laptop open, the presentation loaded, every document organized in folders he could access in seconds. His face was calm. His broken wrist rested on the table, cast off. He’d worn a dress shirt and khakis and looked as handsome as she could remember.
Before the meeting started, she shared one quick look with Connor, who sneaked a wink that gave her exactly the injection of confidence she needed.
“Thank you all for coming on short notice,” Greg began. “Vance has raised some concerns about the Acacia scope of work that I think we should address directly. Vance?”
Whoa, no preamble. No “status” of the new builds. Just…concerns.
Vance straightened in his chair and cleared his throat, as if he’d rehearsed this speech a few times in front of the mirror.
“Thanks, Greg. I want to start by saying that Acacia has been a valued partner on this project, and what I’m about to say comes from a place of wanting to see Lakeside succeed.”
Meredith kept her expression neutral. Beside her, Connor’s fingers rested lightly on his keyboard.
“Over the past several weeks, I’ve observed a pattern of quality concerns that I think merit discussion.” Vance opened his notebook. “The clubhouse event space remains undersized relative to marketing commitments. Several Phase One design revisions have created timeline delays. And frankly, the project management on the architectural side has been inconsistent, particularly in Eli’s absence.”
He let that last phrase land and glanced toward Eli. The implication was clear—the boss was checked out, and his daughter wasn’t up to the job.
Dad didn’t move a muscle.
“My recommendation,” Vance continued, “is that Pippin Lake engage a local firm for additional architectural oversight. Not to replace Acacia, but to supplement and possibly divide the work with another qualified firm. That way, we can ensure we have constant access to seasoned professionals who are meeting the standard our buyers expect.”
Constant access to seasoned professionals or another company on the take? Meredith swallowed the thought as Greg Hollister glanced at Eli, who gestured toward Meredith.
“Do you want to respond?” Greg asked her.
She stood, making most of the men inch back in surprise.
Snapping her blazer in place, she looked from one face to another, waiting a beat on each and sensing the shift in the room.
“Thank you, Greg. I appreciate the opportunity to address these concerns, and I want to start with the facts.”
Connor clicked to the first slide and Vance blinked, clearly expecting her to whine out some kind of excuse for these alleged issues. Had he not paid any attention this past month? He wasn’t dealing with a whiner.
“Phase One of Lakeside is currently ahead of schedule. Ten foundations are poured. The first Alastair model is framed and roughed in. We’ve now sold twenty-three of sixty-four lots in the opening month, with the Alastair up to ten—the strongest sales performance of any floor plan in Pippin Lake’s development history.”
She moved through the numbers with precision and certainty. Custom revisions, buyer feedback, zero compromises,and a creative elevation placement strategy that showed she could play three-D chess if she had to.
“Regarding the clubhouse,” she continued, “the event space was designed to the specifications in the original brief and approved in the initial contract review. I have the signed approval here if anyone would like to see it, but I have developed three new concepts for consideration that would come in on budget. Vance has them on his desk, where they’ve been for two weeks.”
