Page 9 of Mistletoe Mistake
Fuck.
When I didn’t finish my thought, Jackson couldn’t help gloating. “You see? You’re a moron.”
“Shut up,” I growled, more frustrated with myself than with him. “Maybe you're right, but if that's the case, then I had a lucky escape. You know I don't do that.”
“You don't take a beautiful woman to bed unless you can pay her for it,” he clarified. “Because that makes sense.”
To me, it did. “I'll end up paying for it one way or another. Better to get it over with up front.”
He shook his head again, but this time with a hint of pity. “Not all women are like Samantha, you know.”
“And this conversation is officially over,” I declared. “Let's do some work, please.”
We spent a couple of hours going over things and had lunch delivered to the room. After we'd eaten, he excused himself to go start looking for more local design firms for the new hotel. “And don't forget, we've got that reception at Morelli's hotel later,” he added on his way out the door.
I still needed to arrange a woman to attend that with me, which would help avoid a repeat of the previous night's mess, so I made a few calls to set everything up before getting back to work. A few hours later, I met Jackson and the woman I'd hired in the lobby and we took a car over to the Mayfair Mews Inn.
Alberto Morelli had long been one of my main competitors in Europe with a chain of hotels that rivalled my own. The fact that he had invited me to the reopening of his central London hotel meant that he felt confident I'd be impressed by whatever he had done to it.
From the outside, the hotel looked like a typical Georgian building, blending in with the residences around it on a typical Mayfair street, but the moment we stepped inside, I had to clench my jaw to keep it from dropping.
The entire ground floor had been reimagined. Open and airy with various shades of greens and browns, it felt like a forest mirage in the middle of the city. Water cascaded down one wall of the lobby while plants climbed up another. In the wrong hands, it could easily have been garish, but here, it felt calming and classy, and completely unique. I'd never seen anything like it. The fact that they had been able to do this to an existing building while maintaining the structure made it even more unbelievable.
With the practice of experience, I kept my face carefully neutral in case Morelli or any of his cronies happened to be watching, but inside, my mind raced. Who designed this for him? More importantly, how could I steal them from him? This was exactly the kind of imaginative thinking I'd been looking for.
“Ah, Mr Stamer, I'm so delighted you could join us.” Alberto Morelli headed towards me with a pleasant smile on his face, but I could see the hint of triumph in his eyes. He knew exactly what a winner he had here.
“Signor Morelli.” I greeted him coolly in return, offering my hand. “Thank you for having us. This is Jackson Hanmer, my acquisitions director.”
Jackson and Alberto shook hands before the Italian man turned to the woman on my arm. “And this beautiful lady is...?”
“Vanessa.” I didn't know her last name, nor did I care. Vanessa probably wasn't even her real first name, but she was exactly the sort of woman I liked to take to these events: beautiful, well-spoken and completely uninterested in me beyond this evening.
“Ah, cara mia, welcome to my hotel,” Alberto carried on, taking Vanessa's hand and kissing it. “Do you like it?”
“It's beautiful,” she answered with a practiced smile. “You must be very pleased with it.”
“Very.” He gave me a wink while I gritted my teeth, trying not to show my envy.
Thankfully, I didn't have to lower myself by asking for the designer’s details, since Jackson did it for me. “Who designed it, Signor?”
Alberto smiled in satisfaction. “A small London firm I discovered. Very talented andveryexclusive. I'm afraid that any work you might be thinking of for them will have to wait until my other projects are completed.”
We would see about that. “What's the name of the firm?” I tried to make it sound like I asked to be polite and not because I desperately wanted to know.
“Anchor Design. The main architect and designer are here tonight, I will be introducing them shortly. Now, please excuse me gentlemen, more guests are arriving.” He wandered away from us to rub his success in someone else's face.
Anchor Design. Why did that sound familiar? “Have you heard of them?” I asked Jackson, keeping my voice low in case anyone else might be listening.
He shook his head. “No, but if they're here, we'll find them.”
We joined the small line-up for the bar as I continued to look around the lobby. With each new detail I noticed, my admiration grew, and it made me furious that we hadn't found this design firm first. I wanted to see more of their work, and I wanted to see what they could come up with for me. As my eyes scanned the room, a memory tugged at the back of my mind, something to do with Anchor Design, but I couldn't quite place it.
~Gemma~
The bartender placed a lychee martini down in front of me and a chocolate one for Holly. “To our success?” I suggested as a toast, holding my glass up.
“Absolutely,” she agreed, clinking my glass with hers and taking a long sip. “Now, let's go mingle with the super-rich and design-challenged.”
