Chapter Five
Max
As subtly as I can manage, I watch Andrew’s reaction to this monumental turn of events. He’s sitting up straighter than usual, appearing cool and unbothered, but one of his knees is bouncing at an alarming rate. Oh man, if I had to guess, he’s seconds away from peeing his pants.
This farce is going to blow up in our faces. Guaranteed. But what other choice do I have than to run with it? Lina plainly didn’t want to acknowledge that she knows us, and now that we’ve followed her lead, extracting ourselves from this charade would strain our developing relationship with Rebecca.
I study our co-conspirator as she describes her business. Her appearance hasn’t changed much since I last saw her—when she told me to get the fuck out of her wedding suite. Same almond-shaped eyes, same pouty mouth, same regal air about her. The hair’s shorter, though, a cloud of curls resting on her shoulders, but otherwise she looks exactly like the woman who displayed little emotion when I told her that Andrew would be a no-show for the ceremony. Okay, maybe her brown skin tone’s warmer, but she’s not duping me; that sun-kissed complexion is camouflaging an icy interior. Do not go anywhere near that woman, Max. She’s a rattlesnake—coiled up tight and ready to strike at her innocent prey at any moment. Shit, you still bear the fang marks.
“I plan six to eight weddings at various stages in any given month,” she says. “So my work requires lots of juggling. But I enjoy the challenge, and seeing the result always gives me immense satisfaction . . .”
It’s a script. I’m sure of it. I can see the effort she’s making to recall what she’s supposed to say. Every few seconds, her eyes dart to one side as though she’s looking at something in her peripheral vision. I follow her gaze to the statue of a phoenix across the room. Maybe she’s engaging in a visualization exercise to calm her nerves? Or maybe the bird’s just interesting. Who the hell knows? In any case, there’s no denying she’s good. Really good. But she needs to loosen up. If it weren’t so obviously rehearsed, her pitch would improve tenfold.
When Lina’s done, Rebecca nods politely, and then our client swings her gaze back to Andrew and me. “You guys already know that I want to shake things up here. I’m taking the reins, and my grandfather’s fully on board with the changes I’ve proposed. But there’s one problem. I know absolutely nothing about weddings. Which means I need to hire someone who does.” She turns to Lina. “I heard everything you just said, but I’m a visual person. I want to see what that new vision would look like, and how the person I hire will incorporate everything the Cartwright has to offer in one compelling package. How would you make use of our award-winning restaurant? How would you transform the ballrooms? What do you bring to the table that no one else does? How would you sell what you do so that a couple looking to hire you decides it’s a no-brainer? Show me what the revamped website would look like. Brochures. A display at a wedding expo, and so on.”
Damn, if Rebecca’s willing to put this much effort into the search, how much does Lina stand to make if Rebecca ultimately hires her? Jesus, I don’t want to know. I might be tempted to switch careers.
“Essentially a mock-up of what it would be like to have me as your hotel’s wedding coordinator,” Lina says.
Rebecca points at Lina with both hands. “Yes. Exactly.”
“How long would I have?” Lina asks. Her brows are furrowed, the first sign so far that she’s wary of what Rebecca’s proposing.
“Around five weeks. I’d like to get the position locked down before the next board meeting.”
Lina’s pinched expression softens. “That’s doable.” She points at my brother and me. “And these gentlemen are going to help me package it?”
“One of them, yes.”
That captures my attention like no other statement does. “Only one of us?” I ask Rebecca.
Rebecca gives us all a sheepish grin. “Well, here’s the thing: Before I met Lina this weekend, I’d made inquiries about potentially hiring someone else. I was at home mulling it over when my boyfriend started watching Hell’s Kitchen and that’s when the light bulb went off. A weeks-long interview with a demo component. Hmm, I thought. Why not do something like that with Lina and the other candidate?” She looks at Lina. “I won’t share his name for privacy reasons. Anyway, I got excited, emailed the agency, and here we are. So I’d like to go through this process with both candidates and choose based on my general impressions, your references—send me those, by the way—and your ability to sell me on your vision. I’m guessing it would make the most sense for us to split the group into two teams and plan for the presentations to be made around the middle of May. How does that sound?”
Andrew audibly gulps, causing everyone’s gazes to land on him.
“Sorry,” he says, swallowing. “I think I’m a little parched. That works for me.”
“Same,” Lina says succinctly.
“Me, too,” I chime in.
“And I’ll leave it to you all to decide how to split the teams.” She looks down at her phone. “Maybe you guys can chat a bit while I make a quick call?” To Andrew and me, she says, “But don’t leave when you’re done here, okay? I need to speak with you about the restaurant and our spa services. Oh, and website analytics.”
We nod and Rebecca dashes out of the room.
The wheels in my brain are turning so quickly they might pop off. This situation couldn’t be more perfect. My goal is to convince Rebecca that I’m the better person to manage the hotel’s account, and she’s devised a hiring process that necessarily puts Andrew and me on different sides. How can I not shine under these circumstances?
Lina relaxes into her seat, her expression unreadable. “Let’s get a few things straight before we hash out the details. First, this is an unpleasant development, but I’m committed to making the best of the situation. Second, if I had a choice, I wouldn’t work with either of you, but I don’t have a choice, so Max, we’ll”—she makes air quotes—“work together for the duration of this project. Third, I don’t intend on taking your advice, Max, so don’t bother offering it. Rebecca doesn’t need to know the extent of our collaboration, and I’m more than willing to take full responsibility for the pitch. Your safest bet is to simply stay out of my way and let me do the heavy lifting. Are we clear?”
Well, damn. How can I not shine under these circumstances? The pessimistic voice in my head makes a rare appearance and whispers, That’s how.
Andrew clears his throat and leans forward. “Hang on. This is getting out of hand. Maybe we should take a step back and consider coming clean to Rebecca. We can explain that—”
Lina and I shake our heads, and he clamps his mouth shut.
“How would you go about doing that, Andrew?” Lina asks. “Are we going to tell her that we got flustered and decided to pretend not to know each other?”
“It’s the truth, isn’t it?” he asks.
“The truth makes us look like fools,” I point out.
“We are fools,” Lina adds. “Look, I don’t know what I was thinking in the moment. I panicked. And I’m not proud of myself. But telling Rebecca that we do know each other is going to open a can of worms that isn’t going to endear her to any of us. And I really, really want a shot at this job, okay?”