9. Daisy
9
DAISY
I look at my cell. I’m not sure why I’m hesitating. Actually, no, that’s a lie. Trisha showed me the heating bill, and I almost vomited. So now I’m going to call the one person in the world who can give me instant cash, even though I only met him three days ago.
My eyes flick to the piece of paper that was couriered to Sunshine today. A donation made in my honor to the America Wilderness Society for the reforestation of trees. I had no idea what it was initially, before realization took over and I had to sit down. It was a large donation, totally unnecessary, yet somehow also very, very kind. I flick his thick designer business card in my hand, and the grin I try to hold back peeks through. At least he listens to me.
His number stares at me from the cell screen, my heart beating out of my chest, and it has been all afternoon. I’m nervous, because damn, I want this. I need this . Yet this decision is about to turn my safe little world completely upside down. But the opportunity to work with him, build this spa, it’s a job that people can only dream about. I know I’m ready for it. I’ve worked for years in this space, I’m good at what I do, and I have a passion for business and a willingness to learn what I don’t already know. It’s almost like this role was made for me.
I take in another breath, mentally going through the pros and cons. Pros: money, experience, a break from the city, and a break from Sunshine. Cons: he’s rude and arrogant, and I won't be able to just play nice. He riles me up, brings out the fire in me, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why. I am Zen now. I meditate, I do yoga, yet the minute I see or think about him, it’s like I’m back to that fiery young girl I was when I was a kid. I have missed her, though. She’s been mellow for far too long.
“Have you called him yet?” Trisha yells from the other side of the door, and I let go of the breath I was holding.
“No!” I yell back.
“Get one of those crystals in your hand. That always seems to help you,” she says sarcastically, and I look down to my lap, seeing the clear quartz already there.
I roll my eyes. “Go away!”
I hear her chuckle as her footsteps retreat.
I’m not sure why I’m hesitating. It’s the ideal opportunity at the ideal time. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths, trying to center myself. But again, the minute my eyes close, the vision of him half-naked returns.
“It’s now or never Daisy,” I murmur to myself and hit the call button, putting the phone to my ear. Rolling my shoulders back, I sit up straight, not that he can see me, but Confidence Building 101 states that you talk with a smile, you sound friendly, you sit up straight, you can tackle anything.
“Daisy,” Connor’s voice hums through the line instantly, like he was waiting by his phone for my call. My name rumbles from his throat, and at his tone, my body involuntarily shivers.
“Connor,” I say in greeting, following his lead. Professional.
“Do you usually leave all your business decisions to the eleventh hour?” he asks, and I still. I look at the clock on my bedside, seeing it’s almost five p.m. I guess I did leave it a little longer than I thought. But I take a deep breath and center myself once more. I need to show him that I’m capable and business-minded.
“Well, I like to look at decisions from every angle. People are too quick these days and sometimes that isn’t always beneficial. I want to make sure I’m getting as much out of this as you are,” I tell him, feeling a little more confident, despite the nerves dancing in my body.
It’s just a job, Daisy. Albeit a job of a lifetime, with a very ruggedly handsome boss, but still just a job.
“You know… sometimes, quick decisions are necessary. So you don’t miss out on opportunities,” he banters back, and I wonder if he’s usually annoying like this to everyone or just me. I need to be mindful; he’s offered me an opportunity, but there’s no contract, no firm discussion on money or timelines.
“I’m a firm believer that good things are worth waiting for. Besides, I’m sure you don’t want to invest in someone who’s flippant or doesn’t take large decisions seriously. You have this amazing spa to open, and you offered me a job to help you bring it to life. You need me, remember?”
“So what is your decision?” he asks, cutting straight to it, and I gulp.
“I would like to take you up on the opportunity. We’ll need to discuss timing and remuneration, and—”
“I’ll have my jet bring you here later in the week. I have a place ready for your stay. We’re estimating a month, maybe two, to bring it all together. Remuneration will be on the contract that I have just sent to your phone.”
I stall, pulling the phone from my ear and looking at the screen, and sure enough, it lights up with an incoming message.
“I’m sure you’ll find the offer more than reasonable. Send me your address, sign the contract, and I will see you this week, Daisy. I’ll have a car pick you up and take you to my jet,” he says before he ends the call without even saying goodbye.
I’m left breathless, my heart hammering in my ears. I’m in awe of his business manner. Confident, not ruthless but demanding. I think I just experienced what everyone else must when they’re in front of him. For someone who consults crystals and meditates, it’s in complete contrast, yet there’s something about it, about him, that has me feeling jittery, my body thrumming, my nerves on overdrive, and I quickly pull up the contract he sent through.
It’s for a month, with the possible extension to a second month, depending if timelines require it. Start date is Thursday. He’ll be paying me even on travel days. The Whiteman’s Whiskey jet will transport me to Whispers and can bring me back to the city as required.
Accommodations will be provided in the form of a four-bedroom house on the grounds of the distillery. There will be full food services from the nearby diner or the distillery restaurant if required. My eyes widen as I look through the details about the job itself.
Chief Wellness Center Consultant. In charge of product selection for both treatments and retail opportunities. The hiring and training of staff, rostering systems, treatment menu development, retail and booking system… I pause on that one, because at Sunshine, we don’t have a computer system for our clients. But there’s a new software program that I’ve been researching that I tried to talk to Mom about implementing at Sunshine, so maybe that’s something I can incorporate at Whiteman’s.
I look back at the screen and scroll through the rest of the details. It outlines the project budget I have to work with, which is well into the millions, and my mouth goes dry. We’ve never made a million dollars at Sunshine, so I know for sure that I’ll be able to deliver what he needs within that budget.
Scrolling further, I read through the remuneration package. He’s offering me one hundred thousand dollars, and now as I look at it in black-and-white, in a formal contract, I think my heart stops.
“Please tell me you’re off your call!” Trisha yells from the other side of my bedroom door.
“Umm!” I basically shout. This kind of money is more than I’ve ever had access to. It will set me up to not only pay off our heating bill and my other debts, but maybe start my own clinic when I come back to New York after the project. It’s perfect. A month in Whispers, building confidence, experience, and expertise, and then I can open my own center. Maybe a yoga studio with a side office to do mini treatments?
“Soooooo?” Trisha asks as she opens my bedroom door and comes to sit at the end of my bed with me.
“So, I start this week,” I tell her, trying to sort my thoughts.
“This week? Wow. What else?” she asks, and I stare at the contract in front of me.
“It’s managing the entire process, essentially. They’ve done the build, so now it’s up to me to help with the fit-out requirements and then turn it into a wellness center.”
“Wow, that’s a lot. In what time frame?” Her brows pinch.
“A month, but it can stretch to two.” My mind whirls with ideas already forming. I need to speak to Mom to get her making and packaging our teas. I need to place a crystal order with Soren to get that ball rolling. Not to mention, choosing sound healing bowls and other equipment.
“That’s a lot to do in a month. Staffing will probably be your biggest issue,” Trisha says, thinking.
“Mm-hmm,” I agree, thinking that’s something I need to get straight onto as well. By the time you find people, interview them, and then train them, that could take the full four weeks as it is.
“He better be paying you well,” she quips.
“Ahhhh, he, um… he is… Six figures.”
“For a month!” she screeches.
“I know,” I say, swallowing, reality not setting in just yet. “It’s kinda crazy.”
“The best kind of crazy! We should pack.” Jumping up, she pulls my suitcase out from under the bed.
“Pack?” I question, head rearing back. “I don’t leave for another few days.”
“Well, it’s either we get busy with packing, or I pour us both a shot or two of tequila. You look like you need it. But given that I already know you’re a lightweight and don’t need a hangover tomorrow, I think we can start packing. One less thing to worry about,” Trisha says, her mind made up, and I nod, my body needing something to do.
“Wow. This is just… wow.” Standing, I’m feeling a little unsteady on my feet, and she looks at me sharply.
“Daisy. You’ve got this. You’re the expert. You know what you’re doing. Hell, you could do this in your sleep backward, remember that. None of them have the skill, and that’s why they want you. They might have money, but they don't have your knowledge and expertise. This is a great opportunity, and it also doesn’t hurt to have a beautiful man to look at each day while you show him exactly what kind of girl boss you are.”
I smile and try to ignore that statement about Connor. “Thanks. You're right, I can do this.” This is my chance of a lifetime.
“Good, now sign that thing and let's get you sorted,” she says, and I nod. I reread the contract for a second time as Trisha pulls out my clothes for me. I sign it, then I call and put Mom on speakerphone while I start packing my bags at the same time.
“Hi, sweetie.”
“I accepted the job,” I tell her, holding my breath, waiting for her response.
“Excellent, honey! I’m sure you’ll be amazing. When do you start?”
“This week. They want me to start straightaway, so I need your help.”
“This week! Wow, okay, what do you need?” she asks, sounding excited. I start talking with her about our tea line, crystals, our suppliers, all of whom she’ll call for me tomorrow to get them on the front foot with things.
“I’ll make sure I get the tea sorted tomorrow and ship it all to you express.”
I smile, thankful to have Mom ready to go as well. Tea making is something she can do from home that doesn’t hurt her hands as much, so she’s probably happy that she can keep busy doing what she loves.
“Do you think Soren will be able to source some crystals?” I ask her as I open my underwear drawer and grab the essentials. As I do, Trisha leans over me and grabs a few of my nice lacy sets that I rarely wear and puts them in the bag. I look at her like she’s lost her mind.
“You’ll thank me later,” she whispers to me so Mom can’t hear before I see her dive back in and grab my special little bag of my battery friends. “You’ll thank me for these too.” Giving me a wink, she shoves them into the back of my suitcase. I don’t fight her on it, but I shake my head at her antics.
“I’ll get him to order not only the crystals, but also the singing bowls, and I have a contact at Yoga Express, so I’ll send you their details for the yoga mats and other equipment,” Mom continues.
So far, so good. Now I just need to figure out the staffing situation. I know Whispers is small, but surely, the town has some people I can train, because if not, I have no idea where to hire from.
“Okay, gotta go. Talk later,” Trisha says, seemingly happy that I’m now back in control and half-packed. She’s heading out for a date with Tom, and I give her a wave as she slips out the door.
“Write everything down,” Mom says, and I almost forgot she was still on the phone.
“What?” I ask her, confused.
“I can tell your head is swimming with things. I’m going to start making some calls for you. You need to start planning what treatments you might want to incorporate, research the location and staffing. Write a list and start pulling things together so when you get there, you’re already five steps ahead,” Mom says, and I sit on my bed, releasing a heavy breath.
Nodding, I smile. “Thanks, Mom.”
“You’ve got this, honey. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says, and I hang up the phone.
With Trisha now gone on a date with Tom, and my phone call with Mom finished, I leave my suitcase half packed and sit at the small desk in my room. I do a brain dump of all my ideas, and when I’m done, I click through to the Whiteman’s Whiskey website again to take a look.
It’s impressive, and I read through their About Us section for what feels like the hundredth time. It talks all about how the distillery started, and I look through both Connor and his dad Tanner’s bios. I can see where Connor’s looks come from; he’s a younger version of his dad.
Then I click on Connor’s profile picture and read his bio again. He went to one of the top colleges in the country and is now the CFO of the distillery, so he’s obviously good with numbers and has lived in Whispers his entire life. I look at his features, and strong, dependable, honorable are all feelings I get when I look at him. Like I conjured him, my cell chimes, and I grab it, seeing a text from him in response to me sending the signed contract back earlier.
Good decision-making, Daisy. I look forward to seeing you later in the week. Victoria from our team will pick you up when you land.
I shouldn’t get butterflies at seeing his message. I clear my throat, wishing this new schoolgirl infatuation that’s starting to build would go away.
Thank you, Connor. See you then.
After replying professionally, I put my phone down and lean back in my chair. Trisha’s right. I’m going to girl boss the shit out of this opportunity and set myself up for success.
There’s no other option. I just need to ignore my attraction to Connor Whiteman. I close my eyes and rub them, the images I see reminding me just how impossible that’s going to be.