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I’ve met with plenty of companies where the CEO doesn’t take the time to attend these meetings.
This one has.
I lay out the information they gave us in brief, sweeping sentences, and reaffirm our commitment to excellence. “Whatever you need,” I say, “Exciteur can provide.”
There’s silence on the other side of the table. Isaac runs a hand along his jaw, eyes moving from me to Toby and Jenna. Like he’s evaluating us.
“I’m considering expanding into a new chain of hotels,” he says.
I nod. This had been part of the brief overview that had landed on my desk. “You want a spin-off brand,” I say. “Targeted at a different clientele, with franchise possibilities? I’m guessing it needs long-term capacity to spawn a chain across the country, not just in big cities.”
“Potentially,” he agrees. “I loathe to use the wordbudget, but…”
I hide my smile. “More economical, perhaps?”
“Let’s use that word, yes. Economical in all but quality.”
“Naturally,” I say. “What elements do you want to keep from the main Winter Hotels?”
Isaac lays out their vision. His chief acting officer does too, filling in on technical specifications and details. Beside me, Toby and Jenna take note of all of it.
This is the info we’ll need to deliver a pitch in just a few weeks’ time, complete with sketches, budget options, names and logos, and the contact details of potential architects.
They want a new hotel chain? We’ll design an entire one from scratch for them.
I look at Isaac during their presentation. His face doesn’t give anything away, but I can’t stop looking for clues. He looks just like he did in the picture included in my research. Thick, dark hair cut fairly short and swept back. Eyes that pierce. A flawless suit and just the hint of a stubble across his cheeks, at odds with the polished conference room.
There are faint lines around his eyes and across his forehead, but if anything, they make him look more distinguished. His age had been a part of my research. Thirty-eight, turning thirty-nine in a few months.
And never married.
Unusual, I think, for a man of his station in life.
“Sophia,” Jenna says. She’s using her professional voice, sharp and intelligent. “Care to wrap this up?”
I ask them to trust us with this project and promise a six-week turnaround on the pitch. “We’d love to be allowed inside your flagship hotel here in New York. A tour by one of the staff, perhaps, through the different parts of the hotel?”
“We can arrange that,” Andrew says. I know from my internal brief that he’s fifty-two and Isaac’s right-hand man in running the company. He also has twin daughters who attend a fancy prep school three blocks from here and likes to golf on the weekends.
It’s scary how thorough Exciteur is at research sometimes.
And then we’re done, sitting across from this executive team, one woman and three men, all led by the man who’d seen me sob so hard my mascara ran down my cheeks. Jenna makes sure everyone has a copy of our contact details and Toby gathers up our notebooks.
Show time, Sophia. I let people file out of the conference room before I direct my words to the man-in-charge.
“Mr. Winter?”
Isaac stops by the door. His second-in-command sends me a curious look, and so does Jenna, but I ignore them both.
“Yes, Miss Bishop?”
“Might I have a brief word?”
His eyes remain unreadable. “Certainly. Andrew, please escort Miss Bishop’s team to the lobby and make sure they get a cup of coffee.”
He pulls the door half-shut behind the others. The room feels smaller with just the two of us in it, and without the designer table separating us. Less formal.
More nerve-racking.
