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“Based on my preliminary analysis, our competitors have been growing fiercer over the years. And although Dreamland performs above average each quarter, I’m looking to obliterate our competition and steal their profit margins.”
Sam’s throat bobs while Jenny scribbles in her notebook. I appreciate their silence, given my limited time between meetings with each department.
“Projects like these take years to go from blueprints to live-action rides. That being said, I’m expecting your two teams to develop the initial plans that I will then present in front of a board in six months.”
It was Declan’s idea to keep my real reason for being here a secret. He thinks that if I revealed my less-than-altruistic intentions for a project of this magnitude, people might sabotage me for the right price. So no one will be the wiser about my temporary position here for the next six months. In their eyes, I will be the Director they always dreamed of. In reality, I can’t wait to crawl out of this hellhole and go back to Chicago to replace Declan as the CFO.
“Six months?” Jenny croaks. Her cheeks lose all their coloring.
“I assume that won’t be a problem.”
She shakes her head, but the hand clutching onto her pen trembles.
“I’m looking to package this whole idea as a fiftieth-anniversary celebration and generate a buzz that pulls at people’s heartstrings. The project should appeal to the new and old generations who grew up with Dreamland characters. I want it to emulate everything my grandfather loved about this park while also moving us toward a brighter—and more modern—future.”
Sam and Jenny are nothing but two bobbing heads, hanging on to every word as they scribble in their notepads.
“So whatever needs to be done, do it. Time is not our friend.”
“What is our budget?” Sam’s eyes shine.
“Keep it reasonable—so around ten billion for the entire park. If you need more, my accountants will review the numbers.”
Sam nearly chokes on his tongue.
“I expect results. If not, then you’re better off applying for the traveling carnival.”
Jenny stares at me while Sam’s eyes drop to the carpet.
“Sir, may I speak freely?” Jenny taps her pen against her notepad in the most irritating fashion.
I check my watch. “If you find it absolutely necessary.”
“Based on your rapid timeline, I was wondering if we could open up the annual employee submissions early this year? That way, the Creators could work with fresh ideas rather than starting from ground zero.”
I blink at her. Annual submissions are nothing but a headache meant to boost employee morale. We have plenty of Creators who have worked at Dreamland for decades already. They don’t need the useless input from low-paid employees who don’t know the first thing about how to design a park.
But what if someone submits something the current Creators haven’t considered?
I work through the pros and cons before determining that I don’t have much to lose. “Open up the applications for two weeks only. I want you to personally review the submissions and deliver only the best ones to my desk.”
Jenny nods. “Of course. I’m sure we have a good idea about what you’re looking for.”
Doubtful but I don’t bother wasting any words correcting her. “Get to work.”
Jenny and Sam exit in a rush, leaving me behind to answer emails and prepare for the next meeting of my day.
* * *
“Son.”
I instantly regret answering my father’s unusual personal call. Stupid curiosity got the better of me because he’s been too quiet about the whole Dreamland business. Something about his silence makes me wonder what he’s planning behind the scenes.
I settle into a leather couch across from my desk. “Father.” Our titles are nothing but a front developed over the years for public appearances.
“How’s everything in Dreamland? I assume you’ll be attending our board meeting on Monday regardless of whatever plans you’ve got going on.” His tone remains light and indicative of the calm facade he’s perfected across decades.
My molars grind together. “Why do you care?”
