Amelia
I walked into the building for my first day of work and was immediately greeted by name by the front desk attendant. I smiled and nodded her way, pleased to see that I was right when guessing the type of atmosphere I was walking into, and I made my way up to the 29th floor. The elevator doors opened and I was greeted by none other than Mr. Lyons himself, and we embraced before we began walking down the hallway.
“How is your first day coming along thus far?” he asked.
“I haven’t even made it to my office yet, Mr. Lyons,” I said.
“Well, you won’t have time this morning. Mr. Collins wanted to call an early board meeting in order to introduce you to everyone all at once. He’s a swift individual who enjoys getting formalities out of the way so it doesn’t constantly interfere with work.”
“I can get behind that,” I said. “I take it I’m about to walk into a boardroom of men?”
“No, Miss Wilson. You’re walking into a boardroom of sharks,” he said.
“Good thing I’m not bleeding anywhere,” I said, smirking.
We walked around the corner and came face to face with a massive conference room. The windows drew in the morning light, and I could see the faces of all the men sitting in their leather chairs. They all donned the same version of the same suits, black and navy with muted colors to try and assert their dominance.
I’d walked into rooms full of men like this before. I understood how their mentality worked.
“Take a deep breath before you go underwater, Miss Wilson.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got my oxygen tank with me,” I said.
Mr. Lyons swung the door open for me and the men scanned my body as my heels clacked against the floor. We made our way to the front of the room while an empty chair sat at the end of the table, and I looked curiously over at Mr. Lyons before he cleared his throat.
“Gentlemen, meet Amelia Wilson, new CEO of the hotel chain.”
“Hello, gentlemen,” I said.
Their faces turned from one of stale exhaustion to one of predator salivating over prey. The daggers they shot from their eyes told me many of them had probably applied for the position, and they were obviously angry that it was given to someone from the outside.
And with boobs. They were probably pissed I was a woman, too.
“Amelia Wilson has spent the entirety of her education as well as her work experience, studying hotels and how to manage them. She understands the customer experience is just as important as selling that experience, and she has some wonderful ideas on how to expand and make this hotel chain the best modern-day luxury experience a customer could acquire,” he said.
“Stop, you’re making me blush,” I said.
“Doesn’t take much to flatter you, does it?” a man spoke up.
“That appears to be the motto for your current hotel chain, does it not?” I asked.
The room fell silent and Mr. Lyons stepped back, allowing me to take the floor as the men threw me their icy gazes.
“Right now, the hotel chain you all run is not much different than the others that exist. You sell a luxury experience, but provide meager supplies and virtually no luxury at all, then you complain when your numbers aren’t where you want them to be. I’m here to change that.”
“It’s gonna take more than decorative towels to expand this hotel chain,” another man said.
“Correct, because I actually don’t think there’s anything wrong with the curtains. However, there is an issue with offering room service and not having a staffed chef, boasting of luxury amenities and not providing the budget to put in so much as a hot tub, and giving customers towels that shed onto their skin because you want to save a buck,” I said.
And again, the room fell silent.
“When people travel, they do not want to feel like they are at home. They want to be in a place that’s better than home. When a customer stays somewhere, our goal should be to make them way to stay, not make them miss home. If they miss home, we’re doing it wrong.”
I could see Mr. Lyons smirking out of the corner of my eye, and one by one the men’s stares turned from icy to curious.
“It’s not going to be smart to expand into the number of hotels this chain wants to. I studied the numbers and looked up some of the areas and hammered it down to the three most lucrative places you all had already planned to be in. The rest of the money should go to bringing up the rest of the hotels to standard. You won’t rake in money unless you have a luxury experience, but your other hotels will fall between the cracks if you don’t update them to the luxury standards I will hold you to.”
“But, we had ten different hotel spots budgeted out,” someone said.
“And now, you have three. We’re working with the same budget, just allocating the money differently,” I said.
“What are your plans with regard to upgrading the hotels we currently have?” someone asked.
“We’ll stay on the same timeframe. All within the year. I’m currently researching the contractors you all used to originally build the hotels, and I’m going to gather numbers before I set anything in action. All I know is that I’m surprised this hotel chain hasn’t already experienced lawsuits related to false advertising. There are four properties I know of that boast of room service without actually having a kitchen on the property,” I said.
“And at the same time, the three other hotels are going to be built?” someone asked.
“Yes, and all three hotels are international. The bulk of the money for any hotel chain comes from international travels. An American hotel chain needs to outfit the rooms to make them feel like the exotic spot they are in, while providing some of the comforts that remind them of home. Business travelers around the country want to forget about work as much as they possibly can, but vacationers who travel around the world want to be reminded of some semblance of home.”
“Sounds like a big game of psycho-bullshit to me,” a man said gruffly.
“And that’s why this hotel chain isn’t pulling in the money it should be. Operating this type of business is 25% construction, 25% psychological breakdown, and 50% customer service. You need all the parts to be successful in this world, and I’m going to get us there,” I said.
“Does she even have the power to do this?” someone asked.
“She’s the CEO,” a man said, as he came through the door. “She can do whatever she wants.”
I looked up and watched a man I didn’t recognize stride into the room with his head held high. He was in a tailored gray suit with a black button down shirt, and he quickly moved over and sat in the empty chair at the end of the table.
When he looked up at me, I recognized exactly who he was.
Oh. Holy. Fuck.
“Miss Wilson,” he said, nodding to me. “I believe we have yet to meet.”
He doesn’t recognize who I am?
“Miss Wilson, this is—”
“Mr. Lincoln Collins,” I said. “Of course I know who just sat down in front of me.”
“I see you’ve tamed the herd of cattle,” he said. “Care to enlighten me on what you told them that has them so captivated?”
“I can only assume it’s a mixture of my body parts and the fact that I just threw their entire plan out the window,” I said.
“The plan,” he said, nodding.
“Yes. The one where you were going to build ten different hotels in the expanse of a year. I’ve cut it down to three in the most lucrative spots you had picked out, then we will throw the rest of the budget into the other hotels you already have established so we can redefine what our hotel chain believes luxurious’ means.
“Sounds fair enough,” he said. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes,” I said.
Why the fuck didn’t you call me?
His eyes flickered up to me and I straightened out my back. If I didn’t, I risked completely falling over into the expanse of his eyes, and I couldn’t become prey to that.
Not again.
Not after everything I’ve already endured.
“Care to enlighten me?” he asked.
“The towels in your hotels are shit,” I said.
Mr. Lyons stifled a chuckle as a smirk rose to my lips, and that’s when Lincoln rose from his seat and grabbed the briefcase at his side.
“I believe you mean the towels in our hotels are shit,” he said.
And the way he chewed the word ‘ours’ sent a cool little shiver up my spine.