Page 7 of Say You'll Stay

4

BEAU

She is not Pavel Cerny.

Not her curly blond hair. Not her crystalline blue eyes. Certainly not her amply curved body. She is too young, too inexperienced, too pretty. If a magazine of women who have slept their way to the top of their fields existed, she’d be on the cover. Her skin is flawless, like her crisp white blouse under her gray suit. Elsie Braudel is an imposter, and a bad one at that. She looks like an underwear model, sent to distract me.

What the hell is going on?There had been mention of her a few weeks back when I caught wind of Pavel’s possible departure from our project. Cormac had even looked her up online. I’d seen her picture then and dismissed her outright. Not for her looks—she’s a stone cold fox—but for her not being Pavel.

It’s not her fault that I’m pissed about this. So, I shake her hand out of sheer politeness, and she returns my grip, pressure for pressure. “It’s nice to meet you, Elsie.”

“You too, Beau,” her smoky voice is a little tight, and I can’t tell if she’s nervous or annoyed, but it’s definitely something in that realm. “Ready to get started?”

Not with you.But I’m thrown off my game at the moment and mutter, “Yeah, sure.” We sit at the conference table, and an assistant scurries in to take our coffee orders. Once they’re placed, I ask, “What, um, what do you have for me?”

Elsie’s head tips slightly. “I was given to understand you’ve worked with another architect and that you had some plans to go off of from them.”

“Right,” I tell her and produce the drawings from my briefcase. “Here you can see what they did—"

“And all the red marks you added,” she notes, studying the drawings. The coffees come, and then she looks up. “I can see why you fired the last firm.”

“Oh?”

“This was Hamilton and Sons, wasn’t it?”

I’m shocked. “Yes. How did you know?”

“Their signature style is prosaic and unimaginative. I doubt that’s what you’re looking for, or you wouldn’t have come to Klein and Associates.” She has me nailed.

And I might care about that kind of thing, if I weren’t pissed off about Pavel. “That’s true, but—"

“And you don’t strike me as the type to settle, Beau. You want a resort that will call to the residents of New York, as well as people from around the world.”

I nod once. “It is crucial that Somerset Harbor becomes known for more than our annual regattas, which is why I wanted—"

“And nothing less than perfect can manage such a feat.”

“You’re right about that, Elsie.” I shift gears to stop her from cutting me off again. “Not to get off on the wrong foot here, but Walter, what is going on?”

The old man’s eyes jump to her before returning to me. “What do you mean? How is your coffee?”

“Good. Great actually, thank you. I mean, I was under the impression that I’d be working with Pavel Cerny. That’s why I’m here. For him.”

Elsie’s jaw tightens, but she says nothing.

Okay, she’s smarter than I gave her credit for.

Walter says, “Unfortunately, there was nothing we could do. Pavel’s contract stipulates he may pick and choose his projects, and evidently, he could not resist working for a prince. He is in Dubai as we speak. Our hands are tied. My apologies.”

I stand up, unwilling to take this sitting down. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Elsie. Thank you for your time. Walter, can I speak with you outside?”

He sighs. “Certainly.”

As the conference room doors close behind us, it is all I can do to keep my voice at a civil volume. “Walker, as much as I appreciate you cajoling the second string into working with me, I came here for Pavel Cerny. He is why I signed the contract. He is why I drove all the way here with a smile. I didn’t mind jumping through some hoops to get the architect I wanted. And now I’m not even getting him? Is this some kind of joke?”

“Of course not—"

“I have no interest in working with her or any other inexperienced architect. I want Pavel.”

---