She shrugs and reaches for her orange juice. “They sure might be. And with locations like this, I understand why they’re reluctant to give up some of the older decor. It’s served them well in the past.”
“Mhm. But their new hotel chain will cater to different customers, to normal families, to friends road tripping, to hip, young—you’re smiling,” I say. “Why are you smiling?”
Jenna laughs. “Because I’m on your team. I’m already convinced. The person you need to convince is coming later today, and he might not be so easy to impress.”
I look down at my plate of toast, fresh fruit, and an omelet that’s been cooked to my exact specifications. Yes, Isaac Winter is joining us this afternoon. Here on business just like us, after he’d graciously extended an invite to my team and me. Toby couldn’t make it, but Jenna and I? We packed our bags immediately. It’s not every day you’re staying at a Winter Hotel for free.
“You stayed late last week,” Jenna says. “Did you get everything sorted?”
“Um, yes,” I say. “I sent over a new brief to our graphics department.“
“A new direction for the logo?”
“Yes. I want us to have options.”
I hadn’t told Jenna about the dinner I’d shared with Isaac in the conference room. The moment belonged in that space, and spoken out loud, I feared it would lose its magic.
Jenna digs into the miniature acai bowl she’d grabbed from the buffet. “Well,” she says, “if we’re going to make a budget version ofthis, it will still be miles above the competition.”
I laugh and cut into my omelet. “I think that’s what they’re aiming for.”
We spend the rest of the day discussing strategies and touring the Washington DC hotel. A kind receptionist shows us all the different suite options. Jenna takes notes and I twist and turn ideas over in my head. How to incorporate a sense of luxury without the luxury price tag it takes to build it.
How do you sell a budget idea to a man with an eye for perfection?
By late afternoon, he still hasn’t joined us.
“Mr. Winter sends his apologies,” the kind receptionist says. “He’s been delayed and will be unlikely to make it tonight. Feel free to grab an early dinner and he’ll see you both tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? We have the midday flight scheduled,” I say.
The receptionist’s eyes widen. “Oh. Well, I’m sure he’ll be in touch, one way or the other. If you’ll excuse me…”
When we’re alone, Jenna sighs. “Well, nothing we’re not used to. We work in the shadows, and they talk to us when they have time. We still got great input.”
“Yes, we definitely did,” I say, ignoring the pang of disappointment.
And that’s how I end up at the hotel bar later that evening, alone. Jenna is taking advantage of the early evening to meet with an old college friend in the city.
I twist my glass of Chardonnay by the stem. A few years ago I’d discovered my love for the grape, and the grape’s love for me, and so far that’s one relationship that’s never failed me. I’ve finished half of it, and I’m debating whether I should order another one or go to my hotel room.
At least the walls will be a different shade of beige than the ones at home.
But then a deep voice cuts through the silence. “Miss Bishop. You’re still here.”
I turn to see him, familiar but unknowable, standing beside my chair. “Yes,” I say. “I take my job seriously.”
His lips tug. “So do I, although you’d be forgiven for thinking I don’t, with the delay today.”
“Where were you?”
Isaac pulls out the chair next to me at the bar. He undoes the suit button as he sits. “I had meetings with developers across town,” he says. “They ran late. I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you and your associate here.”
The wine and the wait have left me off-kilter, and with more courage than sense. “Jenna Nguyen.”
He nods. “That’s right. I apologize for forgetting. There are a… lot of people in my organization.”
“How many?”