by Amy Brent
“That would be a nice piece of information to know if there was a reason I needed to know it,” I said.
“It depends. Do you want the job?” he asked.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
“Good. Because I’m giving you the position,” he said.
I sat there for a second and digested what he had just told me. The interview didn’t take any longer than 15 minutes, and was only conducted by one man, and suddenly just that quick, I was the CEO of an entire developing luxury hotel chain?
“We are in an expansion process, Miss Wilson, and are in need of some help. I dive between the hotel business and the investment banking conglomerate for Mr. Collins, so I can’t always be here to oversee everything that needs to have our eyes and hands in it. That is where you come in,” he said.
“I’ll need all your notes, numbers, and any other information pertinent to the expansion process that you’ve garnered up until this point,” I said.
“Oh, that is not a problem. It’s all located in this office,” he said.
“I just come pluck it out of your office when I need it?” I asked.
“Who said this was my office?” he asked, grinning. “Will you accept the position?”
“When do I start, Mr. Lyons?” I asked.
“How does Friday sound?” he asked.
“Sounds like I’ve got some time to enjoy the new life I just acquired,” I said.
“I look forward to working closely with you, Miss Wilson.”
“And you, Mr. Lyons.”
I shook his hand before he ushered me out to the elevator, and I held my excitement in until the elevator roared to life. I jumped with my fists in the air, jostling the sliding tube as I squealed and clapped my hands. I had gotten the position of my dreams, and in the process I could dig myself out of some of the debt I’d occurred over the course of my schooling.
And over the course of my life.
The elevator dumped me out onto the main floor and I held my head high as I walked through the main lobby. None of these people knew who I was now, but I had a feeling that come Friday they would know exactly who was walking into the building. I was going to be able to head up one of the most media-driven hotel expansions this generation had ever seen. This job would set me up for whatever I wanted to do for the rest of my life.
I flagged down a cab and got into it before I kicked my legs in excitement again. This afternoon called for a celebratory lunch at my favorite place downtown, so I gave the cab driver the address before he pulled away from the dark, looming building in the middle of the city.
The building might be a dark black tower that parted the city in half, but to me it had just become a blinding beacon of hope.
The fighting I had done up until this point had been worth it, and I wasn’t going to let this moment go to waste.
Chapter 3
Lincoln
“How do the projected earnings for this quarter look, Lincoln?”
“We are up 1.2% from where we were this time last year, and 4.2% up from just last quarter,” I said.
“That’s a pretty interesting hike. You’ve kept a steady rise of 0.8% over the years, varying quarter to quarter. Are you preparing some sort of hostile takeover?”
Some of the investors laughed, but I merely sat back and watched them try to roll off their nerves. There was a reason they invested in my banking style, and it was because I made them money. I had meetings with my investors every quarter and sent out an investor’s newsletter twice a year—one to end the year and one to begin it. They didn’t come just for the money, however.
They came because of who I was.
My practices were balked at by many, and while I might be praised on Wall Street, the public wanted nothing to do with me. Part of investment banking is all about financial advising. A half-percent of interest here, a monthly fee there. They don’t seem like much, but if you provide top customer service and a great return, it can make you hundreds of thousands of dollars on each client every decade.
However, the other part of financial banking required me to be a heartless shark. Real estate would always be there, and my company had taken to purchasing low-interest loans whose owners were defaulting on payments. The banks couldn’t afford to keep them around, but I could. I could take the loss, hike up the interest percentage in order to encourage their monthly payments, and if they didn’t pay I simply foreclosed. I then took to selling off their assets, I’d sell off their property, and I’d reinvest that money into my company’s portfolio in order to continue scaling upwards.
That was how I was able to invest in the luxury hotel business, and that is exactly why these investors were sitting in front of me.
Because I was willing to take the heat that they were not.
“No, Mr. Grove, I’m not planning a hostile takeover. I am merely experiencing a mediocre return with regard to my new hotel chain. It’s all there in your folder you haven’t opened,” I said.
“Mediocre, huh? Are you expecting this mediocre to get any better?” he asked.
“I said mediocre. What I mean is not quite enough. We are in an expansion mode. Once that is complete, I plan to see a massive 7.2% return for you all, a 10% return for my company, and a steady climb of 2.2% over the course of the next twenty quarters,” I said.
I saw them studying the numbers and I could tell they were impressed. Financial investment banking wasn’t simply a numbers game. It was knowing where to put your money and how to allocate your assets.
I didn’t have $4 billion sitting in a bank somewhere. I had it scattered throughout my portfolio.
I only had $500 million in a bank somewhere.
“Any tips for us at this meeting, Lincoln?” Mr. Groves asked.
“As a matter of fact, yes,” I said. “If you want your customers to continue coming to you with their money, you have to provide them with two things, great returns if they stay, and steep penalties should they pull their money out and go elsewhere.”
I gave them a wry smile and they returned the favor before the meeting was adjourned. I had grabbed my briefcase and started for my office just as my phone rang. Fumbling with my phone for a moment, I finally answered, just as I stepped into my office.
“I hired her,” Drew said.
“Hired who?” I asked.
“A stripper for the party,” he said.
“What time, I’ll make sure to be there,” I said, smiling, knowing full well it wasn’t helpful.
“I hired the new CEO for the hotel expansion project, you idiot,” he said.
“Ah, did that already happen?” I asked.
“Knew you’d forget, just like I said. Anyway, Amelia Wilson is her name, and she is a sassy thing. Smart as a whip, too. She’ll be really good for the company,” he said.
“That’s good news. Glad you found someone,” I said, as I shrugged on my coat.
“You don’t give a flying rat’s ass, do you?” he asked.
“That’s not true. A flying rat would really catch my attention,” I said, grinning.
“You’d enjoy her. She’s got your same bantering sense of humor,” he said.
“I’m not doing my new CEO, Drew,” I said.
“No one here is advocating you sleep with an employee,” he said. “Just trying to draw some similarities between the two of you so we can all work together cohesively.”
“I’m sure you’ve done what’s best for the company. You always do. I’m about to leave the office for the day, however, so just shoot anything to you need me to see in an email,” I said.
“Investor's meeting went that well, huh?” he asked.
“Mr. Groves was present.”
“Ah, the one without a backbone,” he said.
“Anyway, I’ll talk with you later,” I said.
I headed back to The Avalon with my coat around my shoulders and my briefcase tight in my hand. Important files, like the quarterly and yearly reports that housed sensitive information
, were not kept at my office. I had a closet that was out-of-sight, and a locked fireproof cabinet I put all this stuff in, and I was ready to put it away. I hated walking out on the open streets with documents like this in my briefcase, and I could feel them burning a hole in the leather with every step I took.
But, as I rounded the front door and greeted George with a nod, I saw a shadowy figure surrounded by a group of chattering people, getting into the elevator.
I furrowed my brow as I tried to figure out who it was, but I didn’t get a chance to see their face. Only that the person was wearing navy blue slacks, which told me it was probably a man. But, I didn’t get anything other than that.
“Hey, George?” I asked.
“Yes, Mr. Collins?”
“Who was that?” I asked.
“I believe that was the billionaire that lives in the penthouse,” he said.
“You mean, you didn’t know who just came through?” I asked.
That was odd. George knew everyone in this building by name. He simply called us by our last name for formality’s sake, but he knew everyone well.
He took pride in that as the doorman for The Avalon.
“No, I don’t. I don’t believe anyone knows who he is,” George said.
“So, it is a man,” I said.
“Honestly? I hear it’s a woman.”
“But, the person that just went into the elevator had navy blue slacks on,” I said.
“The entourage that surrounded the person is always there. I hear they go out and find the woman her next meal for the night before she casts them out. He’ll do his walk of shame in the morning before I get here.”
“I heard one rumor circulating, but I didn’t even consider it because I didn’t think anyone actually lived in the penthouse,” I said.
“What did you hear?” he asked.
“I heard there are parties thrown up there every year. Parties with libations and rooms sectioned off for salacious activities. I figured the top level of this place was a party room to be rented out, to be honest. Do you really think it’s possible someone lives up there?” I asked.
“All I know for certain is that all these levels are occupied, including that one, according to the tenant list.”
“Why all the secrecy? Why would you be a billionaire with all this money, then live a life that is so private?” I asked.
“Maybe the owner has something to hide,” George said.
“Or something to lose,” I said.
“All I know is that no one is allowed up there without strict permission from the tenant, and a special key that’s inserted into a special slot in the elevator.”
“Sounds fancy,” I said, smirking.
“Says the billionaire who has his own infinity pool on the 59th floor,” he said, grinning.
“And speaking of, I believe I’m going to go for a swim,” I said.
“You have a good afternoon, Mr. Collins,” he said.
But, when I stepped into the elevator to head up to my floor, I couldn’t help but reach out and finger the golden slot right there at the bottom of all the level buttons.
Why would someone with so much money need such privacy in their life?
Chapter 4
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 bud
get, 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.”