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Hmm. Unlike the first ominous thought that had jumped out at me, this facetious one held great appeal.
Which was why I loathed being in this position. I shouldn’t have such thoughts when it came to my own mother.
“Are you coming with me or not?” Dane asked in a curious tone as I hedged while debating over this latest predicament.
“Sure.” I glanced at Kyle. “Assuming you don’t need me for dinner?”
He smirked.
“That’s what I thought.” I followed Dane through the oversized doorway.
We traveled down the hallway, took a few twists and turns, my stomach plummeting as we navigated the large house. I knew where we headed before we even entered the cavernous office.
Okay … not about my mother at all.
“So what happened here?” he asked. It was the first time he’d gotten a good look at the room since returning.
Trying to cover jangled nerves, I crossed my arms over my chest and said, “You did tell me to make myself at home when I first moved in.”
He gave me a sardonic look. “Sure, that’s absolutely what I want. But what’s with all the holes in the walls?”
“Right. Those. Lots of holes.” I spied the entire left side of the office that was dotted with pockmarks. Then my gaze landed on the huge sweeping words I’d scrawled in black marker to the far right. “I was doing some visualization that required a few pinups. Also, I’m not really crazy about this color on the walls. You wouldn’t mind if I changed it?”
“You know I don’t care about any of that,” he said. “I was just wondering what happened.” He still eyed the left side, not even addressing my collage/web to the right.
I stared at the blank space where I’d tacked all of the photos for the nursery and for the Lux. I’d taken both sets down. Since he didn’t know anything about what I hoped to accomplish with the hotel, I didn’t bother mentioning those depictions. I wanted to surprise him when the time was right.
Things were going smoothly on-site, and I was already at the stage of contacting key personnel previously employed at the Lux who could help me with the whole start-up process of hiring staff and getting word out about us taking memberships.
Since there was a database full of international VIPs who’d clamored to purchase the exclusive rights to stay and play at 10,000 Lux when Dane had initially constructed the resort, we had a lengthy list of former members we’d returned money to, who’d never gotten the chance to enjoy the property. We could reach out to them privately, and I suspected they would be even more zealous about signing up.
The drama surrounding the Lux was one of our hottest marketing angles. Above the exclusivity aspect that had originally drawn in celebrities, dignitaries, tycoons, and the like, people loved owning a piece of history and legend—especially Vegas-style legend.
I wouldn’t be surprised if we sold out of memberships at a world-record rate. Despite the exorbitant cost to have the privilege to rent a suite or casita there. Host a wedding or special function. Be invited to attend an over-the-top Lux-sponsored event.
Really, I could hardly wait to jump back into the role of Event Director and bring the place to life with the absolute best of the best parties.
But that was still a ways off. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. So I focused on the topic at hand, saying, “I needed to get a good visual for Amsel’s room before I ordered anything. I tore out pages from catalogs and magazines and pieced it all together.”
Dane shrugged. “You and your collages.”
“Yes! Exactly.”
He didn’t appear the least bit put out or act as though he were on to me when it came to revitalizing the Lux. Honestly, it shocked the hell out of me that Amano hadn’t clued him in. I knew Amano knew. He was just that way. But perhaps he understood that I wanted to give the Lux back to my husband as a gift. So mum was currently the word.
Dane’s attention finally shifted to my web. He’d already experienced everything that I’d puzzled together there, so it was really just a matter of taking it all down, tossing the printouts, and redecorating the office in a way that suited us both, since I intended to keep some of the space he’d graciously offered me.
“We should probably discuss color schemes,” I contended. “I was thinking something just a little less severe than pewter and perhaps more cheerful.”
He eyed me speculatively. “When did you become all about cheer?”
“I am a mom, now.”
“And the nursery is certainly zip-a-dee-doo-dah-day,” he said in a dry tone. “Jungle Book run amok?”
“It’s an African safari theme. Those lions and tigers and bears are supercute.”
“Despite being predators.”
