“Wonderful,” he mutters, but he doesn’t sound the least bit happy. “What else?”
“I have several mockup videos that I’ve made and are ready to be posted, along with a few games and giveaways to get our account growing.” I walk him through where the information is located, and he peruses it before glancing back at me. “Is there anything else you’d like?” I ask.
“Other than to get Bridget to remove the scathing vlog post onVacationer’s Paradise?”
It seems he plans to hold that against me for all of eternity. Although I haven’t been working here that long, there’s still time to prove myself an asset.
“I can give her a call and talk with her?” I offer, not that I think she’ll want to talk to me. She fired me.
“Don’t, my lawyers are all over it,” Logan says. He finally meets my stare. “You’ve done a lot, but we haven’t seen an increase in reservations or bookings.”
“It takes time for our marketing efforts to work, Mr. Henderson,” I say, trying to keep things as professional as possible. “And I need your approval to start posting content, which I hope will result in the increase that you’re hoping to see. I might also suggest that we run campaign ads.”
“Campaign ads?”
“Cost per click campaigns with sites like Google and Facebook. We might even try running a video ad on one of the streaming apps.”
His gaze tightens. “You have all sorts of ways to spend my money, Ms. Sinclair. How about let’s come up with ways to generate income from new revenue streams that won’t cost me an arm and a leg?”
That’s what I’ve done. Not that he sees it. “Of course, I will do some research and get back with you,” I say, trying to get out before he loses his temper. It’s coming, I can feel the rage and hatred ready to spew.
I’m relieved when he dismisses me from his office, and I can scurry back to my desk and avoid his heated wrath.
What I don’t expect is to see Wyatt in my office, seated at my desk.
“Can I help you?” I ask, glancing him over.
He’s stretched out, feet on my desk, arms behind his head. “Just hiding from the boss,” Wyatt quips.
“Can you do that someplace else?”
Wyatt moves out of my chair from behind the desk but doesn’t leave my office. “This is the only sanctuary from Logan.”
What is he talking about? I frown, shaking my head, waiting for him to elaborate.
“Logan can’t stand being around you. He’s not going to willy nilly show up in your office. Which means I can chill for two minutes without him jumping down my throat.”
“Is that what you’re doing? Chilling?” I ask. I step around to the chair that he had recently occupied and take my seat behind the desk. Unlike Wyatt, my feet aren’t up on the desk and I’m not lounging around taking a cat nap or whatever the hell he intended to do before I caught him.
“Avoiding work. Chilling. Same difference,” Wyatt says. He’s quiet, staring at me as he plops down on the nearby sofa against the wall. “How’d Logan convince you to come back and work for him?”
“He didn’t tell you?” I ask, my fingers poised over the keys on the keyboard.
“That man has been a grump since the moment you left. He barely talks to anyone about anything. Unless he’s throwing out orders and commands like he’s back in the service.”
“I didn’t realize he was in the military.”
“He doesn’t talk about it much,” Wyatt says.
“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re back. Even if you are the queen of betrayal.”
I grimace. “Is that what Logan said?” I ask. Did I inherit that nickname when I left the first time?
“It’s kind of obvious. I’m not sure why you’d be crazy enough to come back here when you think this place is run like a shit show and not worth a night’s stay.”
“I didn’t write those terrible things in the video,” I say.
Wyatt’s gaze tightens. “Who did?”