Page 9 of Her Holiday Heartthrobs

“As you may or may not be aware, Rockwell International has a strong hold on the upper echelon of the hospitality market. Business professionals, politicians and celebrities that frequent our hotels make up the majority of our clientele.”

She nods, maintaining eye contact like a champ.

“Our hope is to break into Airbnb’s market for young professionals, entrepreneurs, influencers, and other niche under-thirty clientele.”

Her pen is moving, scribbling more than what I’ve said.

Henry rubs a hand down his thigh and picks up the mantle. “Based on the preliminary research, we’re leaning toward smaller, cozier accommodations with more individuality.”

Paige glances at him but stares at her page of notes as he talks, like she’s freezing him out. It’s subtle, but everything about her tenses as he talks. What’s that all about?

Jake fills her in on some of the financial aspects, basic budgets for construction, advertising and the prices we plan to offer for lodgings.

Once we’ve given her the research, I smile at her again. “What do you think?”

She reviews her notes and takes a deep breath. “Well, I have several ideas already. Creating an Airbnb feel is going to require a lot more real estate, but we can take what’s appealing from their business model and the types of amenities they provide and transform that into an inviting hotel experience.”

Clearing her throat, Paige continues, “Creating shareable spaces—in both the physical sense of sharing the space with other like-minded people as well as a space that people want to capture and share online—is at the top of that list. We should also consider creating unique rooms for more one-of-a-kind experiences. I know these will increase construction and design costs as materials won’t be in the kind of bulk you usually purchase them in, but there are ways of mitigating those costs if we get creative.”

She flips a page and makes a small note. “Where possible, offering bungalows at your current locations can also cut into the target market without the same upfront costs that building an entirely new hotel would bring.”

I find myself nodding along. Jake leans forward, elbows on his knees, and Henry is trying to hide his smile. As much as this began as a favor to Patrick, Paige seems to be the right fit for this project. Each of her ideas holds merit.

I don’t know if she came prepared with all of this or if these came to her during this meeting, but I am impressed.

“Transforming at least one of your event rooms in the hotel to offer a fresh but professional space for the ideal customer may also help.” Her eyes angle up for a moment, as though she’s chasing ideas.

I share a look with Jake and Henry, and they seem to agree. It’s time to jump right in. My hands come together in a soft clap before I rub them.

Paige catches the movement and focuses on me again.

“I can see the wheels still turning in there, and what you’ve offered us so far is right on track. So, here’s what we’re going to do. I want you to pick your top ideas and write a prospect for each, so we can review and narrow them down.”

“How many ideas would you like to see?” Her pen is moving again.

“I’ll leave that up to you.” Because I want to see how she handles this without any input. It’s her first test. And a lot of work. How will she prioritize? What kind of details will she include? Her shoulders square and awareness sharpens her gaze. My intention has been caught. I can’t help but smile at her, a small, knowing one.

“When would you like them?” Her tone is even, controlled, expecting a challenge. Smart girl.

“First thing tomorrow. I’m usually in my office by nine.”

I have a good feeling about what she’s going to come up with.

JAKE

I shake Paige’s hand again when she offers it to me and I sigh when Eli closes the office door behind her. She did very well in hiding her shock, but a small sliver of panic glazed over her eyes for a second.

Eli leans back against the closed door and groans low. “My God, did you see those legs?”

I had, indeed. Long and shapely under that tight navy fabric. The pale skin of her bare ankles that I bet my hand can fit clean around. That I bet is soft and smooth, like the rest of her.

Those details rack me with guilt.

She’s too young. She’s our best friend’s daughter. She’s our employee. So, these thoughts are unproductive and wrong.

Yet, heat lingers in my veins as my gaze unfocused on the seat she occupied minutes ago.

Henry tips forward like he’s ready to jump up and shoulder-check Eli into a nearby bookcase. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

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