“What are you still doing in here anyway?” I look around, gesturing to the office.
I’m tired. Too tired to be apologetic that I changed the subject. I’m exhausted from the tension that exists everywhere I turn. Tired of my brother’s rejection and all the nuggets of hope I’ve held on to over the years. After my talk with Jami this morning, reality finally set in. This isn’t about my brothers. This is about me. The dreams I thought we all still carried deep down are mine, and it’s time I start accepting that.
Jami leans back in his chair and points to the screen. “I’ve been riveted by financials all day. I have to admit, brother, you’ve done a hell of a lot since Dad left. You’ve never once had a dry season. You’ve kept profit margins at a steady increase, and I can only imagine the boom you’ll see once Hope’s impressive marketing plan takes effect.”
“You read her marketing plan?”
He nods. “Sure did.”
Emotion kicks in my chest, but I try to not get too excited. There’s a lot Jami has missed over the years. Discounts I’ve had to offer to keep operations moving. The inspections I nearly failed because my eyes couldn’t be in all places at once. The year when turnover was at an all-time high because I had to cut wages just to keep us all afloat.
“Thanks, Jami. That means a lot coming from you.”
“Of course,” he says with a twinkle in his eyes, “you could maybe grow a pair when it comes to your suggested price points for the resort. If you’re not careful, you’ll be completely booked and realize too late that you’re running yourself and your staff too thin. There’s an incentive there. You just have to take a little bit of a risk.”
I step forward and take a seat in front of him. Instinct makes me want to tell him just what I think about his unwelcome ideas. But after second thought, I realize Jami was always the one with the brilliant ideas on how to make this place more profitable, and I was always the one too afraid to execute big moves the way he can. Which is precisely why I need him.
“With all due respect, if you want nothing to do with this place, then why do you care? Because you can give me all your suggestions until you’re blue in the face, and they could be the most brilliant ideas that ever existed, but I’m the one who has to see them through, and we both know that’s not my strong suit.”
He shrugs. “So let me help.” He slides a document toward me. It’s an excel sheet with a breakdown of numbers that make my head hurt before I can even truly look at it. “You’re on the right track. But with some minor adjustments, the potential is huge.”
I stare at my brother, confused by the whiplash that he’s causing me. It would be a lie to say that I’m not resentful over the things he said to me in the saloon, but I’ve also learned a big lesson from Hope’s return, and that’s to not push away people you love. No matter the internal battle you may be fighting. Your loved ones are never your enemies.
“All right, Jami. I’m all ears if you’re willing to dole out the advice.”
He smiles, and I think it’s a genuine smile, one filled with a glimmer of love he once had for this place. Maybe there’s more buried beneath the surface than he’s willing to admit. And maybe, just maybe, his time here will uncover more where that came from.
Chapter Twenty-Three
HOPE
The door clicks closed, almost as if it’s the sound of my fate being sealed. I’m trapped. Locked inside a room with the one person who has the power to send me straight over the edge. I don’t want to work at Urgency any longer. That much is clear to me by now. But I’m determined to salvage my pride and reputation before Dexter completely destroys any opportunity I have to find something better.
Mallory turns around, her fake smile sliding into something sinister. “I guess we can cut the shit now.”
I push my shoulders back, forcing my expression to remain unfazed. “By all means. Don’t hold back on my account.”
“Dexter sent me to oversee things from here on out. You’ll continue to be the face of the project. Our client has clearly taken a liking to you. But your progress is slow, your reports are lacking, and we both think that it’s in the best interest of Urgency for you to report to me from now on.”
Heat explodes in my chest, and even though I’d been preparing all day—hell, all weekend—for some type of blow, I honestly didn’t expect this. Dexter could have fired me, and it wouldn’t have crushed my pride as much as sending Mallory here to lead my project.
“That’s ridiculous, and you know it. You aren’t suited for a project like this, and you sure as hell have no chance to catch up with all the work I’ve already put in this. The artwork has already been approved. Social-media plans have already been created and scheduled out six months in advance. Advertising mailers are already rolling out. Invitations for the event are already set to go out. You’re too late to take credit for my hard work this time.”
The corner of her mouth tugs up another inch, making her look like more of a snake than she already does. “And you think I give a shit?” she hisses. “I’m only here because Dexter finally knows what I’ve been warning him of since the day you walked through Urgency’s doors with nothing but inexperience and that bounce that made me so fucking dizzy.”
“What is it that Dexter finally realizes? That I’m capable of handling projects without you insulting me at every turn?” I reach for my phone. “I’m calling Dexter.”
Mallory laughs. “Go ahead.” She sits down in the chair across from me, a wide smile plastered to her face. “Make sure to put him on speaker.”
Ignoring her, I speed-dial Dexter, and he picks up on the first ring. “Miss Davies. Wonderful to hear from you. How are things today at Camp Bexley?”
There’s acid in his tone that I could pick up from a mile away, but I ignore that too. “I hear you’ve made an unnecessary change to my project and forgot to inform me.”
“Ah, yes. I didn’t want to bother you with all the details, so I asked Mallory to give the update. After my assessment of your work on Friday, I decided to make the change. I hope that won’t be a problem for you, Miss Davies. Or do you have a personal stake in the matter you’d like to confess?”
I bat my eyes at the phone as lightning strikes in my chest. “Not at all, sir.” My gaze meets Mallory’s smug smile. “Will you be the one to tell our client, or should Mallory do that? Seeing as I’m not the lead anymore, it’s probably not appropriate for me to communicate such project-altering news.”
There’s a moment of silence before Dexter speaks up. “I can make the call. Bexley will surely understand why I made the decision to bring on our senior account manager to such an important job. After all, his success is of our utmost concern.”
As much as I don’t want Anderson getting involved with the mess I’ve created, he is the client, and Dexter owes him the courtesy of a phone call if he’s going to make a decision like this. The only difference is that no other client would challenge Dexter the way Anderson will.