Ship of Dreams (Dreams Come True Series Book 2)

by Rebecca Heflin

  “I’d like to thank everyone for coming.” Jack began, nodding to everyone in the room. “Why don’t we get started?”

  Nathan tried to keep his head in the game, but he found himself all too aware of Laura’s presence. Hair in her usual ponytail, conservative blouse, black skirt. But those oh, so sexy legs and those skyscraper pumps blew that prim image right out of the water. She rocked the sexy secretary look, and then some.

  She took notes on her iPad, glancing up at Jack with interest. Jack glanced her way and smiled as he explained what the cruise line was seeking in its agency and in its campaign.

  The purpose of the pre-pitch meeting was to help focus the pitch and campaign planning.

  “I don’t have to tell you, we don’t hire an idea, we hire an agency,” Jack continued.

  The meeting took about an hour, and after an opportunity to ask questions, everyone packed up their belongings. Nathan noticed that Laura hung back.

  He reluctantly followed Hawk and Julia, the head of the creative team, out into Imperial’s Lobby.

  “Julia, do you mind if I have a word with Nathan alone?” It was phrased as a question, but was more of a command.

  Julia frowned a moment. “No. I’ll just catch a cab and meet you back at the office.”

  “Thank you.” Hawk waited until Julia stepped into the elevator, before pressing the button for another one. Once on the elevator alone, Hawk turned to Nathan. “You and Laura know one another?”

  Nathan hesitated a moment wondering how Hawk knew.

  “You couldn’t keep your eyes off one another,” Hawk supplied.

  Well damn. Time to face the music. “You could say that.” In the biblical sense. “We were on the cruise together.”

  “You’re dating a woman heading up our competition and took her on the cruise with you?”

  “No. Of course not. She happened to be on the same cruise as me—a reconnaissance mission like mine—only I didn’t know that until Rome.”

  “And Rome was at the end of the cruise?”

  “Yes.”

  “And just how did you find out?”

  “I, uh, saw a text on her phone.”

  “How would you have seen a text on her phone?”

  “It was on the table . . . by her bed.” Best to come clean before it leaked out.

  Hawk stumbled back. “Ho-ly hell! You slept with our competition?”

  “No. I mean yes. I mean I slept with her but I didn’t know she was the competition at the time. As soon as I found out, I ended the affair.”

  “I should hope so. Exactly how long did this affair last?”

  “Nine days.”

  “Nine! Jesus, Nathan. You didn’t share any state secrets with her?”

  “Of course not.” Nathan tugged at the collar of his dress shirt.

  “You do know who she is, right?”

  Nathan didn’t have a good feeling about where this conversation was headed. “She’s Laura Danforth, obviously the account executive handling the pitch for Giddings-Rose.”

  Hawk gave him a strange look. “She’s Laura Danforth Armstrong.

  “What?” Nathan’s question came out as a strained whisper.

  “She’s Milton Armstrong’s daughter.”

  Nathan took the sucker punch straight to the gut. When he regained his breath, he scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Armstrong. As in Milton Armstrong? As in Great Lakes Shipyard Armstrong? One of the world’s richest men? Builder of the very ship we were on, not to mention all the other ships in the Imperial line?”

  He paced away in the tight space of the elevator. “Priceless. Absolutely priceless.” Paced back. She’d conveniently left out that little tidbit. But then again, she’d left out a lot.

  Thunderclouds built in Hawk’s usually placid eyes. “And her father is Jackson Jeffries’ good friend.”

  “Son-of-a-bitch!” Nathan ground out. He felt as if his pants were down around his ankles.

  “Add to that, she’s one of the top account executives in New York. She’s played an instrumental role in landing some of the agency’s biggest accounts.”

  Nathan scrubbed a hand through his hair again. “Christ, Hawk. I didn’t know.”

  “I should take you off the account.”

  Hawk’s statement hit him like another punch to the gut. “No, you shouldn’t.” Not that he blamed Hawk. He’d do the same thing if he were in Hawk’s shoes. But he couldn’t lose the bonus. He couldn’t stand by as his sister was turned out of her home.

  “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t”

  “Because I’m the best man for the job. You thought so, too, or you wouldn’t have hired me. Wouldn’t have given the account to me.”

  “You’re right. But no one is indispensable.”

  Nathan looked Hawk in the eye. “I’ll get the job done.”

  “Then, for God’s sake, keep it in your pants.”

  Chapter 15

  After a day from hell, Nathan stripped off his sweat-soaked T-shirt and climbed into the shower. Even the balls-to-the-wall workout he’d just put himself through didn’t ease the tension.

  He pressed his hands against the shower wall and let the spray pound his head.

  With everything he’d been up against growing up, he’d never believed his efforts were futile. But this time, the odds were not in his favor. In fact, the outcome was almost a forgone conclusion.

  How could he compete when Laura Armstrong had an ‘in’ to the whole business? He ticked off the list of things weighing heavily in her favor.

  The daughter of the shipbuilding magnate who built, and continued to build, Imperial’s ships, headed up the pitch team.

  Her father, that same shipbuilding magnate, also happened to be Imperial’s CEO’s best friend.

  Check. And check.

  What more leverage did she need?

  The following Monday, ten sets of eyes stared at Nathan waiting for his report and his directions for the various teams working on the pitch. One pair of eyes in particular unnerved him a little: Hawk’s.

  He’d spent the entire weekend working on the presentation, developing the angle, distilling his thoughts into manageable sound bites, something his teams could take back to their desks and work with.

  “After hearing what Imperial wants in a campaign and an agency, and after my experience aboard the Nave dei Sogni, I’m proposing an overhaul of Imperial’s public image, starting with their latest ship. A new line, a new name, one that appeals to their target demographic. I’ll entertain ideas from anyone who has one—this isn’t just the creative team’s domain. So, start thinking about that.”

  Nathan clicked his laptop and a photo of a bright green Braniff Airways plane displayed on the screen behind him. “The Braniff ‘End of the Plain Plane’ campaign was revolutionary in its scope and in its results. For those of you fuzzy on this particular feat of advertising creativity, Jack Tinker and Partners, through their account leader, Mary Wells, hired an architect, a fashion designer, and a shoe designer to overhaul Braniff’s tired image. The result—a revolutionary turnaround for a failing airline.

  “I contacted Great Lakes Shipbuilding. Since the building is still in the early-stages, we can look at revising the deck plans, and nothing has been done with interior design at this point, so it’s a blank slate.”

  Nathan continued, “I’m recommending we hire a top interior designer and space consultant. Like their other ships, this should be an all-suite ship. No cramped cabins.” He let that sink in a moment.

  “We’re targeting those with deep pockets, but not deep enough to afford their own private yachts. The point is to make the demographic feel as if they were on their own yacht. Spacious accommodations, the highest space per passenger ratio available.” The nodding heads around the table offered encouragement.

  “A completely non-structured cruise, optional private land-based tours. And for dining, special requests are welcome. We cater to the vegan, the dairy-free, the gluten-free, and every
thing in-between. Want something specific for your scheduled cruise? Prefer Evian bottled water? Add it to your profile and Imperial will get it for you.”

  He glanced at Hawk to gauge his reaction so far. He was furiously taking notes. His boss was taking notes! Either he loved it, or he was listing the reasons to fire him.

  “Speaking of profiles. Guests complete an online profile with all their preferences. Everything from food and beverages to music and bath products.”

  “And because the size of the ship is much smaller than the rest of the fleet, Imperial will be able to offer interesting ports-of-call. Ports off the beaten path that much larger ships can’t access.”

  “The campaign will flow from the ship’s design, the offerings, the feel of the cruise experience that Imperial will offer its guests.”

  “Now, with only four weeks to the pitch, we’re up against the wall for a campaign of this magnitude, so time is of the essence. I’d like to hear some ideas by end-of-day tomorrow. If you have any issues or questions, my door is always open.” Nathan stood, signaling the end of the meeting. As he gathered his notes, Hawk came up to him. He slapped a hand on Nathan’s back. “That’s an ambitious campaign.”

  “Imperial’s got ambitious goals,” Nathan returned.

  “And I think you’ll exceed their goals with this campaign.” Hawk strode out the door.

  Nathan released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

  Having worked on her presentation until the wee hours of the morning, Laura was confident in her proposal to the group. Incorporating the goals and objectives of Imperial based on the pre-pitch meeting, along with the ideas she’d noted on her trip, Laura sat down with her teams, and laid out her proposal.

  “Let’s begin with my vacation slide show.” Laura clicked the button on her laptop and the selfie of her on her balcony flashed on the projector screen, followed by a few chuckles.

  “But seriously, while the décor of the Nave dei Sogni was gorgeous, it was a bit over the top.” Laura clicked to the next slide with photos of the ship’s dining room, lounge, and other public areas. There were lots of wow’s and oh my’s, along with some confused looks.

  “Where’s Fred and Ginger?” Claudia asked.

  She clicked to a collage of photos from her stateroom.

  “Holy shit!” Havi said.

  “Exactly. This is more like it.” The photos showed her penthouse stateroom from various angles. “Elegant. Comfortable. Welcoming.” She clicked again, showing a photo of La Presse du Vin. “Quiet, warm, relaxing. A place of respite, with all the creature comforts.”

  “You heard the CEO. The new ship will be designed to feel like your own private yacht. This is what the demographic wants. Unobtrusive pampering. Champagne upon boarding. Their luggage picked up at their home and delivered right to their stateroom. No schlepping luggage to the airport, no hassles with customs. The line will offer no fuss travel.”

  She continued, “But even with that warm, welcoming atmosphere, our target doesn’t want to completely disconnect, right? We still want our Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram. We want up-to-the-minute updates. Information at our fingertips. So, the experience will appeal to the digital demographic, a demographic who doesn’t want to unplug from social media on vacation, but prefers to share their experiences in real-time via social media.”

  “As we know, Imperial’s social media is currently dying on the vine. I propose we revive it. Big time. With real-time Twitter updates. Docking in Portofino today? We’ve got you covered with the weather report, recommended restaurants, not-to-be-missed sites, and sites that may be closed for repairs. Shopping on the Ponte Vecchio and don’t know where to grab lunch? Send a tweet with a specific hashtag. The social media experts will send links and directions to the recommended restaurants in your area. Instead of the environmentally unfriendly daily paper ship’s bulletins, which usually hit the trashcan shortly after delivery, you can sign up to receive them via email.

  “And speaking of digital media, I went on some pretty boring city tours. Stuck one out, bagged another one.” She didn’t want to think about what happened on the one in Naples. “The problem with organized tours is we all take things in at our own pace. Some of us like to read every placard in the museum. Stand in front of David until the docent’s escort us out. Others of us prefer to get the highlights and move on. It’s difficult to please both types of tourists.

  “That’s where the Concierge Tours App comes in. Created exclusively for Imperial, the app will be an interactive tour guide for ports-of-call and their surrounding areas, complete with subway maps. You select the sites you want to visit. You decide how much information you want at those sites. Then you move on.

  “Those are my initial thoughts. I’m open to any suggestions, comments, or questions. Oh, one more thing. The ship has yet to be named. That’s where we come in. The name should symbolize what it has to offer.”

  Celeste slapped her hands on the table and said, “Let’s do this.”

  The following Monday, Laura’s phone rang and reaching for it she saw Jack’s name on the screen.

  “Hi, Jack.”

  “Wednesday. You. Me. A benefit.”

  “Ooh, you really know how to show a girl a good time.”

  “Come on, it’s for The Skills Project, and you’ll know just about everyone there. Plus, I could really use your help fending off the cougars.”

  Laura laughed. Jack’s Ralph-Lauren-model-looks, warm engaging smile, and rumored net worth made him a favorite among the unattached ‘mature women’ crowd. Laura wasn’t the only one that hadn’t had a clue about Jack’s sexual orientation. “Keep up your sweet-talk and you’ll have me eating out of your hands.”

  “Great. I’ll make sure to wash my hands before I pick you up at seven.”

  Hitting ‘end,’ Laura opened her calendar app and entered the event.

  Even with all the hours she was putting in at the office, Nathan still managed to creep into her thoughts on a regular basis. She found herself wondering what he was doing. And even more pathetic, wondering if she ever crossed his mind. She relived her cruise with every meeting on the pitch and every task in support of that pitch.

  Maybe a night out would take her mind off the frustratingly charming and great-in-bed Nathan. Even if her escort was gay.

  Late Wednesday afternoon, Nathan made some notes as he conversed with the owner of a local bookstore who’d scored a book signing with a hot new best-selling author. They needed a quick and dirty campaign to advertise the event. He was just finishing up the call when Hawk stuck his head in the door. Nathan gave him the ‘hold-on’ sign, then said his goodbyes to the woman and hung up.

  “What’s up?” he asked as Hawk sauntered in and lowered his six-foot four-inch frame into a chair across from Nathan’s desk, legs splayed out.

  They were back on solid ground after his confession.

  “Was that Mia on the phone?”

  “Yes. She’s desperate for our help.”

  “She’s a good friend, so let’s make it happen. She really pulled off a coup getting Sam Workman for a book signing. People are saying he’s the next Stephen King.”

  “If the other teams are too busy, I’ll take care of it myself,” Nathan assured his boss. “I still remember a few things from my days working in the trenches.”

  “I know it’s short notice, but do you have plans tonight?”

  “You mean other than your friend’s ad campaign? No, why?”

  “I’ve got a ticket to The Skills Project benefit, but Michael is sick, so I need to go home and relieve Melissa.” Nathan must have made a face because Hawk continued, “It’s Jack Jeffries’ pet project. It’ll give you an opportunity to schmooze him.”

  “Sure. Where and what time?”

  Hawk handed him the ticket. “It’s all on there.” Hawk rose and headed for the door before turning back. “Thanks, Nathan. I appreciate it. And you’ll meet some interesting people.”

  La
ura stepped off the elevator to see Jack waiting in the lobby of her high-rise. He looked very GQ in a black suit, black dress shirt, and hot-pink tie—Hermès no doubt.

  “Damn, woman. You look good enough to eat.” He took her hands and gave her the once over. “You might have me swinging in the other direction.” That infectious grin had melted many a girl’s heart.

  “You look pretty edible yourself.”

  He took her elbow and guided her to the glass doors at the front of the lobby.

  “You’re making my job tonight very difficult.” At his confused expression, she continued, “You know—fending off the cougars.”

  “The way you look tonight, I think I’ll be the one who’s busy. I’ll be beating the men off you with a stick.”

  “And who asked you to?”

  He laughed. “Right.”

  The warehouse-sized loft in a trendy section of SoHo buzzed with the kind of conversation only heard at events attended by the top one percent. Nathan had no point of reference for the topics under discussion, everything from tedious renovations on an Aspen vacation home, to adding on to a five-car garage to house the latest purchase of an Aston Martin special edition Vanquish, to the latest dining sensation, edible air, whatever the hell that was.

  With no sign of Jack Jeffries, Nathan sipped his scotch and tried to appear interested in one of the sculptures up for auction that evening—a concoction of rusted and twisted metal that resembled the mangled wreckage from a multi-car pile-up rather than a six-figure-priced work of art. Whoever buys that has more money than sense, he thought, good cause or not. Just make a donation and leave the pile of metal for the scrap heap.

  Circling back to the room at large, his step faltered when he spotted Laura standing in the entrance. She looked stunning, especially in a Jezebel-red dress that hugged every curve, and those damned erotic stilettos—some kind of snake this time.