“Why your contractors? I was in one of your buildings for a meeting last month, and the place wasn’t looking too hot.”
My immediate gut reaction was to get defensive, but I tamped that down and managed to ignore the insult, focusing instead on working together.
“Well, I’ll tell you what. We obviously need to get a few quotes, so why don’t you call in one or two of your people. We can see what they all come up with, and how fast each one thinks they can get it done.”
Again, Weston hesitated. “Yeah, okay.”
We discussed a few other priority issues, including how to handle an employee Louis thought was dipping into the petty cash, and filling five key vacant positions, two of which were assistant manager jobs. I also had a team of CPAs and lawyers coming this afternoon to start due diligence on The Countess so my family could formulate its offer to purchase the minority share.
Without too much disagreement, Weston and I even decided which conference rooms we wanted to set up our teams in. We then threw around some counteroffer proposals to the union’s offer we’d discussed earlier. All in all, it was a damn productive morning.
“Okay, well…” I shuffled the papers I’d spread out in front of me into a pile and neatened them into a stack. “This was a good meeting. I’m going to go talk to Louis about setting me up in an office somewhere, and I guess I’ll see you upstairs when the first contractor arrives.”
“You don’t want this office?” he asked.
I stood. “You look like you’ve already settled in. I can find another one. No big deal.”
We were about two minutes away from Weston feeling my forehead. Suspecting I’d made his head spin enough for the morning, my job here was done. “See you at two?”
“Yeah. I might be a little late. But I’ll meet you up there.”
Now it was my turn to be suspect. “Do you have something else planned?”
Weston got up and walked back to his desk, avoiding eye contact. “I have a meeting. But I’ll be back after.”
“A meeting? What kind of a meeting?”
“The kind that’s none of your business. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Unable to hide how annoyed his response made me, I left the office. I’d just laid all my cards on the table, and that little shit probably had something up his sleeve that he was doing behind my back.
This being friendly thing wasn’t going to be easy after all.
***
Sam Bolton had been doing construction in New York for my family since I was a kid—though I hadn’t known Bolton Contracting was now Bolton and Son. Travis, Sam’s son, introduced himself and shook my hand. He was handsome, in more a clean-cut-boss type of way than a contractor-who-swings-a-hammer look, but definitely nice looking.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he said. “I didn’t realize William had a daughter.”
Travis meant no harm with his comment, but it hit home.
“That’s because he’s still hoping I’ll come to my senses and tie on an apron and stay at home, preparing for my husband’s arrival from work, like a woman should.”
Travis smiled. “I hope you don’t mind my saying so, but I’ve worked with Spencer, your brother, and I believe they make aprons to fit his size, too.”
I liked Travis already. “Half-brother, and I’m pretty sure he’d burn anything he tried in the kitchen.”
If I wasn’t mistaken, I thought I caught that look in Travis’s eyes. You know the one, a bit of a sparkle that shines when someone is interested in more than just your business. Though he was a perfect gentleman and did nothing inappropriate as I showed him around the construction space. Travis had been early, so a few minutes later, his father arrived. I’d also invited Len, the head of hotel maintenance, to join us, and he led the tour of what had been done and what still needed to be completed.
“What happened to the original contractor?” Travis asked.
“There were apparently multiple inspection issues that came up,” Len said. “Ms. Copeland was unhappy about the frequent delays, so she fired the contractor with the intention of bringing on a new one. At one point, she told me she gave a new contractor a deposit, but nothing was ever started.”
Great. Note to self. Add find out if a contractor was paid to start work and pulled a no-show to my to-do list.
“Everything pretty much came to a halt fourteen months ago when Ms. Copeland’s health took a turn.”
“And when do you need all of this done?” Sam Bolton asked.
“Three months,” I said.
Travis’s eyebrows jumped while his father blew out a deep breath and shook his head. “We’d have to have crews here around the clock. That means paying night differential, two foremen working overtime in twelve-hour shifts, and all sorts of extra benefits the union would require.”
“But it is possible to get it done?” I asked. “We have events lined up starting in three months and really don’t want to have to cancel them.”
Sam looked around, scratching his chin. “It’s possible. Not going to lie, I don’t like working like that. I won’t cut corners to get things done. Many times I’m at the mercy of subcontractors, so there’s always a chance something could go wrong, too.” He nodded. “But yeah, with those extras I think we could shoot for three months. We’d need to get down to the building department right away and see what the issues were with the last inspections and also take the blueprints with us today. But we can give it a shot.”
“How fast could you get me an estimate?”
“A couple of days.”
I sighed. “Okay. Well, let’s do that.”
Weston showed up just as we were finishing—more than a little late. Nevertheless, I kept the peace and even managed to smile as I made the introductions. He and Sam got into a discussion about people they both knew and jobs they were both familiar with. I told Len from maintenance he could go, and that left Travis and me talking.
“Do I hear a bit of a British accent?” he asked.
I didn’t think I had one. But he wasn’t the first person to ask me that. I’d only lived in London for six years.
“You’re very perceptive.” I smiled. “I was born and raised in New York, but spent the last few years living in London. Apparently I picked up a few things while I was there.”
“What brought you to London?”
“Work. We have hotels there, and my father and I get along best when we’re on different continents.”
He smiled. “What made you come back?”
“This hotel. Plus, the timing was right. I was ready for a change.”
Travis nodded. “And not one that entails an apron around your waist, I take it?”
I laughed. “Definitely not.”
From the corner of my eye, I caught Weston looking over at Travis and me. It was the second or third time in five minutes. He was definitely monitoring our discussion.
After the Boltons left, Weston shook his head. “Those two are definitely not right for this job.”
“What? What are you talking about? They said they could get us an estimate in a few days and meet our crazy timeline. My family has worked with them many times over the years. They’re absolutely reliable. What else could we hope for at this point?”