Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
I miss him so much. In the ten days since I moved out of his apartment, I’ve thought of him constantly. My fingers hover over his name on my phone, desperate to call, to message, to make some kind of contact with him. I thought I’d run back to Jersey and lick my wounds over my dad being an asshole. And I’ve done my share of that. But I wake up in the morning yearning for Leo. I can’t sleep at night for thinking of him. I can barely breathe during the day because I know this whole situation is all my fault. I fucked things up between us so badly.
But there’s no going back. Time only moves us on to the next chapter. I at least need to salvage my career out of the ruins of whatever we had. I know he won’t deny me that if I can prove to him I’m the right person to be managing The Mayfair long-term.
I’m pacing the roof terrace, looking up at the sky, waiting for Leo. I have the next sixty minutes in his calendar. In an hour, I’ll know whether my tenure at the helm of The Mayfair will ever be made permanent.
It’s threatening to rain, and if it does, everything is ruined.
The fire door to the rooftop creaks and I spin to see Leo emerge. My heart crawls up my throat, my breath catching there.
His brown floppy curls have grown longer since I last saw him and he looks tired. He’s probably working too hard. Or worried about New River. Is it selling? Is construction on schedule? I can’t ask him. I’ve got to keep things on track today or I’m not going to be able to hold it together.
“Thanks for coming,” I call as he strides over. Was he always so tall? Was his smile always so dazzling? Thank god I didn’t get in any deeper than I already was. My dad leaving knocked me flat. But if Leo left?
I’d never be able to get back up.
“An outdoor meeting,” he says. “My first of the day.” Our eyes lock and my stomach swirls, full of confusion and need.
Should we kiss? Shake hands? To avoid either, I clasp my hands in front of me and launch into my presentation. “I wanted to show you the space before you make a decision,” I say. “I’ve discovered it’s actually bigger than I first thought, which means we have options.”
His gaze hits the floor, and I wonder if I’ve already lost him. I need to plow on. Impress him with my proposal.
“This is a super-special place with fantastic views and would obviously make a great bar. But I think we’re underselling ourselves. New York has plenty of rooftop bars. We’d be competing up and downtown for clientele. I want to use the space for something a little different. I want The Mayfair to offer rooftop weddings and events.”
He raises his eyebrows. I can’t tell if it’s skepticism on his face, but I look away so it doesn’t affect my presentation. “There aren’t many hotels with the infrastructure and capacity for large-scale rooftop events. The other X factor is weather. All outdoor event reservations need to be safeguarded with an indoor option in case of inclement weather, which means we’re reserving two spaces for the price of one.” I turn to the table I’ve set up beside me and swipe open the laptop. “Unless we have an option to cover the space. I’ve been researching. We could erect a fully retractable gazebo that covers like a permanent structure if it’s raining. I’ve checked with the manufacturer and it would work in all New York weather conditions, other than heavy snow. It makes the space useable for at least nine months of the year.”
I glance up at him to gauge his reaction. It’s difficult to get a read on him. He seems to be concentrating.
“Let me show you the renderings.” I’ve worked with an architect and designer on 3D renderings.
“I’ve had estimates from construction companies on the cost of renovations, the impact on the ongoing hotel operations, and timeframe. We can start to take bookings for two years out. Of course it won’t just be weddings, but we’re charging big money, so it will be big life events that we celebrate up here.”
He pulls in a breath and the sound makes my pulse flutter against my neck. I close my eyes in a long blink, trying not to think about his breath on my skin, his fingers in my hair, his mouth on mine.
“Let me take you through the rest of my strategy plans for the next three years.” We sit and I hand him a tablet where I’ve set out the rest of my presentation. I show him the cost savings I want to make and the investments crucial for keeping the hotel in the five-star bracket. It’s going to cost money before it makes money, but in three years, this hotel is going to be a jewel in this city’s crown.