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Pavel brushes that aside, “Phones are merely tools. But a resort is full of possibilities.” He pulls his iPad from his bag. “Let me show you.”
I could not be less interested in a Pavel Cerny design than I am right now. But he is here, and if Elsie has to stay in Sewmond for a long time, we will have to move on without her. I hate the thought of it, but I have dozens of guys onsite who need to keep working. There will be hundreds of people employed at the resort. This is the project that will show our father he can be less involved in the business and fully retire. The sooner we open, the better for everyone in Somerset Harbor. I cannot afford to delay this project.
So, I smile and nod politely. “Sounds good.”
“Very good, yes, here we are.” He turns his iPad around to show me. It is Somerset Harbor chic with a modern twist. More angular, less genteel. A spitting image of what I’d asked Elsie for the first few times we met. It’s everything I wanted.
And I don’t want it anymore.
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31
BEAU
Thirty-One-Beau
As Pavel goesover the preliminary sketches, I tap my foot. I cannot sit still. I want him gone. This isn’t happening. I feel like a hostage to politeness.
I cannot piss Pavel off by firing him myself. That will be Cormac’s job, once Pavel leaves. He hired him. Not me. I’ll let Cormac handle the call, and I will figure out a way to get in contact with Elsie. Until then, I can play nice with the man who is now Elsie’s understudy.
Perhaps I should ask some questions, so it looks like I’m giving him my attention. “And what’s that there?”
Pavel frowns at me. “A decorative bush.”
“Oh. Right.” I’m an idiot.
“As I was saying…” he yammers on about doors, and I am ready to scream.
But I don’t. I hate wasting someone’s time, but I don’t have much of a choice at the moment. Kicking him out— which is all I want to do— is not an option. Still, I can’t stand to listen to him brag about his designs. It’s grating. The worst part is, they are what I wanted. And they are boring beyond belief. Nothing as interesting as Elsie’s work. Walter was right. She is the next big thing.
So, instead of focusing on the drawing, I interrupt him to ask, “There is a Mercedes 300SL Gullwing parked out front— it wouldn’t be yours, would it, Pavel?”
He smirks the way a man who enjoys being envied smirks. “Da. A present from a friend.”
“That’s one hell of a friend,” Beckett notes.
“I have had the good fortune of having many generous friends,” he brags. “The Gullwing once belonged to a prince. I designed his post-divorce home, and he gifted the car to me out of his gratitude.”
Cormac laughs incredulously. “A million dollar gift of gratitude? I have got to make better friends.”
Pavel laughs with him. “It is good to have friends in high places. One never knows when they may come in handy.”
As they chat about whatever, I am counting the seconds before Pavel leaves. I need my phone so I can check in on Elsie and her family, and every minute spent talking with this bozo is a minute wasted. I knew I should have gone with her to Sewmond. But when I’d asked, she told me not to worry about it. She understood I had things to do in Somerset Harbor.
Right now, all I want to do is take care of her.
Cormac’s tone is winding down, so I clue back into the conversation. He says, “… can drive around so I can show you more of Somerset Harbor, and you can get a feel for what we’re looking for in our designs.”
“That sounds like a splendid plan,” Pavel says. “Beau, are you coming with us?”
“No. I have some things around here to handle. I’ll catch up later.”
“Very well. Cormac, want to take the Gullwing?”
“Can I drive it?” Ballsy of him to ask.
Pavel laughs. “No.”
