Page 27 of The Mistakes I've Made
“You will have six weeks to produce design plans that are both on budget and generally cohesive with our brand as a company. However, you know we don’t do cookie-cutter hotels, so give it its own distinct flavor that speaks to the location.”
I rolled my eyes.
Keep it the same, but make it different.
Sure, Dad. That makes sense.
“I want names of everyone you plan to hire as well as a list of all materials and where you plan on purchasing. Impress me, Leilani,” he stressed.
I nodded even though I knew he couldn’t see me. My father was nothing if not meticulous. This part I’d expected.
“And, lastly, you must show me that you have the blessing of the town.”
“What?” I said, nearly choking on my own saliva as I remembered my latest conversation with Taylor. “Why?”
“Why? Town approval is crucial to any project—something you’ve obviously never learned.”
No, because you’ve never let me out of the office.
“Without it, they’ll stop you at every corner. They’ll put up a barrier, a wall, an injunction to stop not only your plans, but also your work. It’s a nightmare. So, make nice with the locals, or this project will be shut down before it begins.”
My heart sank. “You’ll shut me down?”
“You have six weeks to wow me, but if I’m not impressed when you present your plans to me at the corporate office, if they aren’t up to par with our incredibly high standards, or if those locals aren’t singing your praises, yes, Leilani, I will shut down this project.”
I was stunned.
I’d thought I’d get a slap on the wrist, a stern talking-to, and that would be the end of it.
Even when he’d said six weeks, I’d figured he meant,you have six weeks to get me design plans.
Not,you have six weeks, and that’s it.
Six weeks to prove yourself.
Six weeks to show you’re worthy of my approval.
“I understand,” I found myself saying.
Because I did understand.
I understood perfectly.
I was just part of the job.
Something to manage, and that was exactly what he’d just done.
“Good. I’ll have Troy send over the particulars, including your budget and everything we just discussed. Good luck.”
And, with that, he hung up.
I was just another problem on his long to-do list, and I’d just been checked off.
“Six weeks,” I whispered.
Six weeks, and I could be rid of Leilani and this whole damn problem.
I smiled widely and thanked my impeccable timing and the nature of the wind and how it managed to carry conversations so crisp and clear right over the bay.
