Page 6 of She Likes It, Hey Micah
“Let me show you where the bathrooms are.” I only make it one step before Lila calls my name.
“Miss Taylor, will you show Mr. Bradley to the conference room while I gather the planning team?”
I grimace at Fischer before nodding and grabbing the file folder I prepared. “Right this way, Mr. Bradley. Can I get you anything?”
“A coffee would be great,” Mr. Bradley replies.
Fischer makes a sound that’s somewhere between a cough and a groan as he follows us to the conference room, though I’m not sure what it’s supposed to mean. Either he’s wrong about his boss or he lied to me about the coffee so he could steal it.
“I’ll be right back with that coffee,” I say, though the break room coffee isn’t going to be nearly as good as the roast I bought in the lobby downstairs. The one Fischer is currently wearing.
Just as I get out into the hallway, I hear Fischer say, “Are you sure a coffee is a good idea?”
That makes me pause. Maybe Fischer was trying to prevent his boss from drinking caffeine? It’s the kind of thing I do with Lila all the time, like when I “accidentally” get her a veggie burger and salad instead of a cheeseburger and fries because she “forgets” she had her gallbladder removed last year.
I quickly brew some decaf and tell myself that Mr. Bradley never specified so it shouldn’t matter, and then I rush back to the conference room just as Lila starts up her presentation. Slipping into the seat next to Fischer, I slide one mug towards Mr. Bradley and then hand the other one to Fischer.
His eyebrows dip low. “You didn’t have to do that,” he mutters. “I don’t really care for caffeine anyway.”
“It’s decaf,” I whisper back.
For some reason, that pulls his brow even lower. “Oh.” Then he takes a sip before turning his attention back to Lila.
I love these initial brainstorming meetings. Though I am generally expected to stay quiet, there’s always an energy in this room whenever Lila runs through my PowerPoints and gives the team the scope and goal of the project. She reads through all the facts I gathered about the lodge, though she glosses over most of the history, and the planning team starts scribbling things down, hopefully full of good ideas. If not, I’ve got about a million of them for this place, and the planners will start coming to me if they get stuck.
I know at some point today I need to ask Lila if I can help with the planning on this one—Kinley will kill me if I don’t—but this meeting is not the time to shove a stick through Lila’s spokes. I’ll just sit back and be patient because with the plans I’ve already drawn up, there’s no way Lila can say no to me this time.
“How about you tell us about what you’re hoping to accomplish with this lodge,” Lila tells Mr. Bradley once she’s gone through my setup.
Mr. Bradley, who was in the middle of drinking his coffee, chokes and spits back into his cup. “Oh, yes, of course. Greenwood Lodge. It’s, uh, it’s been around for a long time, so there’s some nostalgia with it. And, uh, we are remodeling.”
We all wait for him to say more, but he goes back to drinking his coffee.
I can almost hear the crickets.
“The lodge is about an hour away from any towns,” Fischer says suddenly, sitting up straighter. Not that he was really slouching before. He’s stiff as a board. “That has made it start to fall off the map and lose profitability. While that made the purchase price less, it also means we have a lot of work to do if we want to get any attention on the lodge as a worthwhile destination spot.”
“Yes,” Mr. Bradley says, a little too loudly. “We need to make sure people know it exists.”
Fischer glances at me—I’m probably staring—before clearing his throat and continuing. “We’ve added a pool and spa, as well as a fully equipped gym with a personal trainer on staff. We hope the lodge becomes a location not only for family vacations and ceremonies but also corporate retreats and celebrity getaways.”
“I could get Houston Briggs to endorse it,” I blurt out. Then I wince when Lila shoots me a glare. I’m usually good at keeping my thoughts to myself—she made sure of that back when I started—but I’m too excited about this one to hold it all in.
Mr. Bradley leans toward me. “Houston Briggs? The Red-tails pitcher?”
I nod. “It might take some convincing, but I think he would do it.” Besides, I never ask my half-brother for anything, and I’m sure he’d love to use his fame for something good. My dad might not be his dad, but he was at our mom’s wedding at Greenwood. He was only a few years old, but that nostalgia is probably still there.
“Will he be available so soon after the World Series?” Fischer asks. “The event is in a couple of weeks.”
I don’t actually know when the Series is supposed to end, but it sounds like Houston will be done playing in time. Lila looks ready to murder me right now, but since I’m the only one who can answer this question, she has to stand there in frustration.
I put on a smile and hope for the best. “I’ll talk to him today, but I think it’s likely he’ll be able and willing.”
“How can you be sure?” Lila asks sharply.
I haven’t told anyone here about my siblings. Partially because I don’t think anyone would believe I’m related to Houston because our last names are different but mostly because I want to make it through life on my own. It’s hard enough to convince my dad that I’m an adult and can take care of myself; I don’t need my famous brother giving me a leg up by association.
Except for now, of course.
