Paradise in Progress

6. Chapter Six

Chapter six

Tristan

We’re four weeks into the St. Lucia project now. That means, I’ve spent four awkward, tension-filled weeks working closely with Kennedy and her simmering hatred. I still haven’t got a clue why she hates me, but it’s driving me a little crazy. I find myself thinking back to our college days more and more, sifting through memories and trying to find a reason that might explain it. So far, I’ve got nothing.

I mean, was I a preppy asshole in college?

Definitely, but so were all the other guys in our major. It’s not my fault that professors used me and not her. It always seemed like she was trying to make herself invisible, though I have no idea why. It wasn’t my problem then, but it sure feels like my problem now.

“Are you meeting with Kennedy today?” Xander asks as he barges into my office, derailing my train of thought.

Looking up from my computer, where I should have been reviewing the specs for the resort instead of thinking about Kennedy, I watch as he leans against the doorway, tucking his hands into his pockets. “You already know the answer to that.”

“I’m just making sure you're taking this seriously.”

That makes my anger flare. “Of course I am,” I snap, glaring at my brother’s retreating back .

I’ve never given him a reason to doubt me at work. Yes, there was a time when I confided in my brother that I wasn’t sure if I was cut out for Nelson Signature. But I put my dreams aside to work for my father’s company, just as he always wanted. Since making that decision, I’ve been putting my all into my dad’s company. I started interning for him during school and kept at it, working my way up to Project Manager from the entry level position I took right after college. There has never been a question about my dedication to our family’s company and the path I’d take that was laid out for me as soon as I showed an interest in being an architect.

Or at least there wasn’t one out loud, but I can be honest enough with myself to admit that. Though I’m grateful I had a job the second I graduated, and I didn’t have to compete for a position at another firm, sometimes I wish I could have started out somewhere else. Just for a year or two to see what it’s like to leave New York. I’d always come back, as this is home, but the chance to live in another city, be on my own, it might have been great. Hell, I didn’t even get to try going to college somewhere else. NYU was it for me. And as much as I wanted to become an architect, a part of me wonders how long that was instilled in me. Did I always want to be like my dad, or was that the seed he planted?

As soon as I step foot in the conference room, I’m greeted by the smell of vanilla and lavender. My eyes immediately find hers as she brings a mug up to those perfect heart-shaped lips I’ve thought about way too many times since meeting Kennedy Reed.

Narrowing my eyes, I watch as she takes a long sip from— Wait? “Did you steal my mug?”

The corners of her lips twitch as I follow her swallow down her long, slender neck. She pulls the mug from her mouth, spinning it as if she’s just now realizing which one she’s holding. The white ceramic mug has ‘ I’m An Arcateck Arckatect Architech I Draw Stuff’ written on one side. Victoria bought it for me for Christmas one year as a gag gift. It was the perfect edition to my coffee mug collection since I could not spell “architect” to save my life. Hell, there’re still some days when I struggle with spelling that damn word.

Lips pursing in a tiny smirk, those deep emerald eyes glimmer with mischief. “Hmm, borrowed. I wouldn’t dare think to steal from Mr. Golden Boy.” Her little nickname for me has always flustered me, but after the way my brother insinuated I wasn’t taking this project seriously this morning, it really strikes a match inside of me, causing my jaw to clamp tight. “Besides, you left it in the kitchen.”

Grinding my teeth together, I stare her down. Two can play this game, Kennedy. “I can’t even trust you with my mug.”

“But you trust me with this project?” Her eyebrow quirks as the slightest bit of insecurity flashes across her face. If I didn’t know her cues as well as I do, I would have missed her moment of vulnerability.

“Barely,” I snark, taking my seat across from her. “You do have your moments when you know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s high praise coming from you.”

“I’m not the bad guy you think I am, Ken.”

She sucks in a small breath as she digests my words. Clearing her throat, she shuffles her papers around, changing the subject. “Let’s get this started?”

“We’re just waiting on Xander. Apparently, he thinks he needs to sit in on all our meetings. ”

Her eyes narrow. “Why?”

“He seems to think we’ll rip each other apart and never finish this project.” She cringes, because she knows full well that she’s the reason why there are trust issues between us, and that’s why it feels like there are issues with the project.

“Ready?” Xander muses. I turn and find him pausing in the doorway. The tension is palpable in the small space, but it’s not with the same animosity as it normally is. There’s something else mixed in, causing him to squint his eyes as he observes the two of us.

Kennedy nods and pulls up her renderings on the screen. “Ready.”

I can feel Xander’s eyes boring into the side of my face, but I refuse to look at him, so I turn my attention back to Kennedy. After basically admitting no one in the company trusts my judgement and now this, I don’t have the energy for either of them. I’m looking forward to the end of this meeting when I can cut out early and hit a cycling class.

“We are a month into the project, and while we’ve sent all the specs to our construction team, there are a few items we need to work through,” I say, standing from my seat and making my way to the screen, which has an aerial view of the property. “As you can see, there’s an empty parking lot on the northwest side. Currently, it’s considered wasted space since there are only a couple of local bars and public beach access that really use it. Not the best use of what’s there. So we’ve purchased the property in our acquisition.”

“You’re taking more away from the locals?” Kennedy interrupts, her voice dripping with disdain.

“If you would let me finish,” I grit out, and her face heats. “While we have purchased the property, we don’t want to take anything away from the locals. However, the space needs a facelift. The concrete has deteriorated, and sand has blown in and started to take over. It’s an eyesore for everyone with businesses around it and for all the locals trying to sell their goods to tourists and guests headed to hike the National Trust. What it needs is a refresh. Do you have a few ideas that might work both for us and the locals?”

A wide grin spreads across her face. “I’ve got the perfect idea.”

“Of course you do,” I mumble sarcastically.

Her eyes roll, and she turns attention from me to where my brother is sitting. “A farmer’s market.”

“A farmer’s market,” he repeats.

“Yes, locals are already trying to sell their goods, so why not make it more official.”

Kennedy stands, and I can’t stop my eyes from raking over her hourglass figure. It’s hugged by fitted black slacks and a green blouse, my eyes catching at the hint of cleavage she's showing and up to the top of her head, where instead of the usual curls, it sits high and sleek in a ponytail. My fingers twitch to wrap it around my fist, preferably as she drops to her knees. Shit. I shake my head and turn my attention back to Kennedy, who’s watching me, something unreadable in her eyes.

Does she know what I was thinking?

“Earth to Golden Boy?”

“I’m sorry, I was distracted at the fact you’re proposing a Podunk farmer’s market on a multi-million-dollar property.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m proposing, you pompous ass.” Slamming her hands down on the desk, if looks could kill, I’d be ash .

“Okay, okay.” Xander stands, his voice calming but forceful as he tries to settle the air around the room. “Let’s hear your idea, Kennedy, because I really don’t hate it.”

Her glare doesn’t leave mine, and that’s when my eyes slip down to her heaving chest. I need to get a fucking grip. This is Kennedy Reed, my off-limits co-worker and rival.

With one final deep breath, her head turns to my brother, and she proceeds to direct her words to only him as if she’s removed me from the room. “After repairing the pavement, we could build a few covered pergolas that fit the island style with picnic tables set up underneath them. Local vendors could purchase an inexpensive permit which allows the company to make a little while ensuring our rules and guidelines are followed when selling their goods and services. This would allow guests to feel comfortable roaming the outside of the property since they are in an unfamiliar country. Safety to our guests and to locals should be at the forefront of everyone’s minds. By having a farmer’s market, it would allow those local bars to gain even more business.”

“By pulling tourist businesses away from the resort?” I question.

“No,” she answers, but doesn’t spare me a glance before continuing. “The resort is all-inclusive; therefore, we don’t lose anything since we already have the guests money. This would be the extra money they want to spend on the island.”

“Interesting,” Xander muses, nodding repeatedly like he’s considering this right now. “Can you come up with a few renderings for how you would design the extra space? I’ll pitch it to our CDO.”

“Absolutely.” She beams with satisfaction. “I’ll have it to you by the end of the day. ”

Kennedy jots down a few notes in her notepad, and before I have a chance to think of it, words are spilling from my lips. “The end of tomorrow is fine, Kennedy. The business day is almost over, and there’s no need to stay late.”

With a terse nod, she goes back to writing down a few things. “I have one more suggestion.”

“Of course.” Xander nods.

Kennedy risks a slight glance in my direction. Reluctance has her gnawing on her plush lower lip. “As you know, we are the farthest resort from the airport, which might be a deterrent for some guests. What if we provided a drive there that was more fun?”

“We will continue with the private driver options,” I answer for Xander. For the most part, we are continuing the business model the previous resort had, with a few tweaks, to make it more successful. One of the options is that instead of riding a shuttle with up to ten passengers, guests can select their own private cars. It makes sense to offer an exclusive option for those who want a more secluded stay.

“Yes,” she bites out before taking a deep breath, still refusing to look at me. “But why not make all guests feel special? Our shuttles are nice, but guests have more than likely been traveling all day. They’re exhausted, hungry, and ready to start their vacation. Why not have the driver and one other resort staff on the shuttle, which would provide drinks and small snacks to our guests. We could also work with a local bar to allow us a stop for quick drinks. Guests can grab a local brew or cocktail to enjoy on their scenic route to the resort. The driver would pay for the drinks from our funds, which would encourage guests to join in. The shuttle would play music with island vibes, like a party bus. Party buses are huge in my hometown, and there's such a unique energy when you’re on one.”

“So once again, we are incorporating your small-time lifestyle into our luxury resort.” My eyes roll of their own accord. This is ridiculous.

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting,” she snaps, turning to face me. Clearly aggravated, her finger jabs my chest. “If you want to stand out from the others, this is how you do it.”

Our eyes lock in a stare-off. Secretly, I don’t hate the idea, but I can’t let her know that right away.

“Send me over all your suggestions with the renderings, Kennedy. I think you’re on to something,” Xander interrupts, standing from his seat. “If that’s all, I’ve got a hot date tonight.”

“With your right hand,” I mumble, and Kennedy’s lip twitch.

“No, that’s you,” Xander adds as he leaves the room, and now I’m the one blushing, because he’s not wrong. It’s been months since I’ve gone out with a woman, much less slept with someone. Every time I go out to the bar to meet someone, copper-red hair and green eyes take over my subconscious. Kennedy Reed has ruined me.

Kennedy leaves right after my brother, and I’m not far behind them. I need a screaming cycle instructor to kick my ass and get my head on straight.