Page 10 of Mr. Romantic (Mister 2)

I think I’ll keep my virginity for someone special and go for the job.

Chapter Five - Nolan

Even though I spend the rest of the miserably hot day locked in my air-conditioned office, the desert is making me crazy.

Crazy. That’s what my father called me when I said Borrego Springs. You’ll attract hipsters with tents. Eco-freaks or throwback drug addicts who want to hunt down their own wild peyote. We already have Palm Springs, and even that is too much action for the wasteland out there.

But I don’t think the desert is a wasteland. I kind of love it out here. I can deal with the heat of the day when I know the cool nights are coming. But July and August are the worst. And every time the temperature climbs up to a hundred and ten these days, I forget all about how nice it is in the winter. All I can see are people huddled in their air-conditioned rooms, counting the minutes until check-out.

Was I wrong to take on this risk?

I’ve had many moments of doubts. In fact, without Claudette, I’d have never gone through with the project. She’s the only one in my family who understands. The only one willing to put in time and effort to help me make this happen.

Why can’t you build resorts where people like to go, like everyone else?

Because building resorts is fucking expensive. I have plenty of money, but most of it is tied up in the San Diego clubs. And that is my future, like it or not. Even if Hundred Palms does get off the ground, the clubs will be paying for it until it can turn a profit.

And knowing what I do about resorts, that might take a while.

The golf course is going to cost a fortune to maintain. The water to keep the greens healthy is a whole other political matter. I had to invest millions in alternative energy to even get the initial permits to build.

Why are you such a disappointment, Nolan?

I grab my phone and press West’s home contact again. It rings through to voicemail, so I just hang up. I don’t know what the hell he’s doing. We have this little thing going between the Misters. Like we used to do back in school. Fucking with each other for old time’s sake.

Now that Mr. Perfect has settled down, Corporate’s been hounding me to do the same. All of us, actually. And so he concocted this little plan to set up Oliver—Mr. Match—with a girl who frequents the online dating site he runs with his sister. That’s how Oliver made his money since college. Online dating.

“Don’t you think it’s strange that Oliver has no girlfriend when he runs an online dating site?” West asked when I saw him last. “It’s the wrong kind of business for him.”

But it’s no worse than feeding people drinks in a club, I guess. I say let Oliver take over the virtual world if he wants. Who are we to say it’s not the right path for him?

But West didn’t agree. He says it’s time to grow up and make a difference. Like Perfect. But there’s a reason everyone called Mac Mr. Perfect. He is, after all, pretty fucking perfect.

Maybe Oliver and I aren’t interested in making the world a better place? And who the fuck knows what Mr. Mysterious is up to? Perfect’s engagement party a few months ago was the first time I saw him in ages. He lives in LA. Knows lots of important people. I’ve heard people whispering his name at the clubs. And even though I was pretty sure at the time it was only because of who he was in the past, I think it’s more about what he’s doing now.

There are no five-star hotels in Borrego. There are two four-stars that do a passable job and an RV park masquerading as a hotel that doesn’t even count.

It’s a good plan, Nolan.

That’s not my father’s voice in my head. It’s mine. My father hasn’t said a nice thing about me since my mother walked out on him and took me with her back when I was twelve. She didn’t take Claudette, just me.

And even though Claudette should hold a grudge about that, she didn’t. Doesn’t. She’s far too much like my father to foster feelings of abandonment.

Still, I need ideas. Fresh ideas. Ideas that no one’s thought about. Ideas that will build interest in this resort besides what it has to offer in amenities. There are a million spectacular hotel pools. There are many professional golf courses. Why should people come here?

That’s what I need from the two men I have working on the marketing campaign. They are the best in the business right now. And both of them have excellent jobs. They don’t need this job. They are here, on my dime, using their own vacation days in order to interview. They are taking a risk on me and that is the only good thing I have going right now.

At least two people, outside of Claudette, believe in me.

Well, Corporate believes. But he believes in everyone. His job is to see the potential in people and match them up with employers looking for what they do best.

Which brings me to Ivy Rockwell. I scan my desk until I see the folder, then open it up and take out her résumé.

She looks good on paper, but what the hell, West? Twenty-two years old? I get that she’s smart. But twenty-two? There’s not enough real-world experience there to offset her youngness, no matter what kind of go-getter she’s proven herself to be in school.

I can’t send her home tonight. I have to at least give the impression she has a chance or she might pull the woman card on me. Call me sexist. Imply that she didn’t get the job based on her sex.

The fact is, she’s too pretty. Claudette would never give the thumbs-up to hire a woman as beautiful as Ivy Rockwell, so tonight I’ll give her an assignment and have her present it tomorrow morning. She’ll be on the jet back to Rhode Island before noon and then I can get the guys started on the next project. I only have a few days to come to a decision that might make or break my success here at the resort, so I can’t waste time on placating Ivy Rockwell.