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Maddox
“Hi Charles. What’s happening?”I ask, when my longtime best friend shows up in my office. This is the first time we’re working together. I was never one to advocate for hiring people I care for to work closely with me. Too many variables can end perfectly good relationships.
But Charles is different. He’s now the director of marketing of my company. I’ve built a career buying and managing chain restaurants, but now I bought a high-end boutique hotel in downtown Dallas. I wanted a new challenge.
Since Charles has worked in the hospitality industry for decades, having him join my team is more than I could ask for.
Sadly, several months after I bought the property, it’s still not producing the results we hoped for. Maybe I’m the reason.
I thought since they’re all in the service industry there wouldn’t be a huge leap in adding hotels to my roster, but the numbers haven’t been good. And I refuse to quit—though losing profit will make a dent in my successful portfolio.
Charles sits across from me, and lifts his iPad. Then, he reads a few talking points. “I’ve been looking at the numbers from Dallas Proper, and talking to some people.”
“Oh, good. I can’t seem to get the locals involved. An irony, as I’ve owned bars through Texas and have no problem with revenue. But for some reason, both the restaurant and the club in Dallas Proper are not connecting with the customers.”
Charles touches his receding hairline. Even though he’s only a couple of years older than me, time wasn’t that generous to him—also due to his love of a good cigar and not being a big fan of healthy eating or exercising. Still one of the best guys I’ve ever met.
“I understand,” he says. “One of the things I’ve noticed is that you’re not attracting the younger demographic. Even though this hotel is in the heart of the city, which is perfect for power lunches, we haven’t attracted the business clientele. And the chef is great, so that’s mind boggling. Also, the night club is not getting enough buzz. All of these things, adding to a below average occupancy rate, are concerning.”
I rock back in the chair, crossing my arms over my chest. Shit. “What does that mean?”
“That means we need a little extra help. We need not only just out-of-towners, but we’ve got to remind the locals that Dallas Proper is a great location for happy hours, clubbing and such. Make it more Instagrammable, as they say.”
“Okay. I’m following.”
He smiles. “Good. So I hired Whitney to help us.”
A lump forms in my throat. “Whitney, as in, your daughter?”
The image of the luscious twenty-something girl with enough curves to send any sane man into a downward spiral pops into my head. A shiver rolls in my stomach. A cold shiver.
“Yes. I have a plan with the marketing team to increase hotel occupancy. That won’t be a problem. But for the restaurant and the club, we need extra help. I was asking Whitney for advice, and she generously offered us a big discount and insisted on helping. Her rates are usually astronomical, so this isn’t an opportunity any sane person would pass up.”
I shuffle in the seat. Of course only an idiot would turn down Whitney Sampson’s help. In the past two years, she’s worked hard and became a mega lifestyle influencer, with millions of followers and coveted sponsorship deals. I don’t follow her online, but have heard her name mentioned a few times, in different circles.
Besides, I’ve been friends with Charles for long enough to remember Whitney as a child. She was always smart, vivacious, and harmless. After she turned eighteen, something shifted.
I didn’t see her for a couple years, and then, she was all grown up. And she knew it, too. She started to send me long glances, toss her long brown hair to the side with dramatic flair, and at times I swore I’d see this inviting flicker in her pretty hazel eyes, that sent me a dirty message.
I know I sound like I’m an arrogant dick for even thinking that way. But I can’t shake the feeling she’s attracted to me and sees me as a challenge. The dad’s best friend. A much older man. A guy knows these things.
She looks at me like I’m a double scoop ice cream cone on a scorching summer day.
Of course, I always ignored whatever spark bounced between us. I never had a brother, and Charles has been there for me through thick and thin. When I divorced my ex-wife Camille, six years ago, he was my rock. I can’t damage our relationship, the reason why I always kept my distance from Whitney. Even treated her a tad, hmm, cold and unfeeling. Easier that way. “So, hm, she’s going to post about the hotel?”
“Yes, that too. She has a whole plan to create organic buzz and increase engagement,” he says, enthusiasm dripping from his voice. “She’s very excited about it, and already shared some ideas.” He glances at his iPad and checks off something from a list. “You don’t have a problem with it, right?”
No, I say inwardly.I have several problems, but none I can share with you. “Me? Why would I?”
He sets his iPad aside and leans closer to the desk. “I’m just saying. She’s super talented and it’s not because she’s my daughter.”
I clear my throat. Of course. Charles would never hire anyone he wasn’t one-hundred percent behind. I only wish that person wasn’t his daughter, but for reasons much different than mere modern-day nepotism. Reasons that could send me straight to hell. “Her being your daughter has nothing to do with anything.”
“Good. This is an opportunity you won’t regret.”
I nod, ignoring the tight lump in my throat. I want to believe him, but a part of me knows I’ll regret every bit of it.
