Chapter 17 Nina
NINA
Walking into Ashford corporate had my stomach in knots for so many reasons, primarily because everyone was staring at me.
Not that I blamed them. “Surprise wife” was probably a maiden voyage plot twist they weren’t expecting.
Yeah, same.
I was meeting the public relations team to strategize the best way to leverage our accidental marriage against the backdrop of the new family-friendly line. Logan told me that they were convinced they could spin our quickie wedding into the perfect happily-ever-after marketing strategy.
It struck me that at some point they’d be called into service again, to weather the fallout of our upcoming divorce. Not that they knew that now. Our charade needed to be airtight, which meant Logan and I were in full couple mode any time we stepped out of the house.
It helped that Noah was along for the ride as we met Logan at the office.
Josie had offered to watch him during the meeting, but I didn’t want to burden her with even more work.
Besides, having him around took some of the spotlight off the two of us.
We were still a little awkward with each other given we were still getting used to our act.
“Can I push the buttons?” Noah asked when we got on the elevator to the executive suite.
“Button, singular,” I warned him. “The highest number on the panel, please.”
He went on his tiptoes to hit the top floor.
“Have you visited the office a lot?” I asked him as we sped up. I took every opportunity to try to fill in the backstory of his relationship with his father.
Noah shook his head. “Just one time.”
Which was good. It sounded to me like Logan took time off when his son was visiting.
I wondered how things would unfold as his true workaholic tendencies came back now that he had to be a full-time dad too.
After all, living under the same roof was a different environment than fun-dad vacation vibes.
The elevator doors slid open, and there was Logan, waiting for us with a smile that warmed my heart.
“Daddy!” Noah yelled, then ran into his father’s arms.
“Well, hey there, kid.”
He stood up and took me in, so quickly I almost didn’t catch it.
I’d dressed up in the one office-appropriate outfit I owned, which was actually a hand-me-down from Tasha.
It was a simple shirt dress with a black-and-white houndstooth pattern, but my heels, belt and updo made me feel like I mostly fit in.
Not that I truly knew how. After a lifetime of working with children, office culture was new to me.
“Mrs. Ashford, welcome!”
I glanced around to see which of Logan’s relatives had spoken, only to find the fashionable woman holding a tablet was staring at me.
“Oh, uh, thank you!”
She reached out her hand. “I’m Bev Carson, Director of PR. We’re so excited to help you craft the perfect headline for your love story.” She glanced down at Noah. “And hello there, you! Do you want a laptop to play on while the grown-ups talk? We could download some games.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” I said before my game-hungry buddy could answer. “We’re limiting screen time during the day. I brought some art supplies for him.” I did a half turn to show my bag of supplies and snacks.
“Perfect! The team is all ready for you, so Logan? If you’re ready…”
He nodded. “Let’s get moving. Busy day.”
And now I was going to get acquainted with yet another version of the man. I’d become familiar with his boss-host persona on board, I’d gotten naked with the drunk version, been charmed by his homebody personality, and now I was probably going to be wowed by the office bossman.
I watched how his employees reacted to him as he strode through the open-plan space. No one ran for cover, which was a good sign.
Bev came to a stop at a glass-walled conference room with every seat filled. Were there a dozen people, or three hundred? My pulse sped up, and I looked over at Logan.
Obviously, the crowd of people had zero impact on him. I hoped some of his confidence would rub off on me because I felt like I was about to go in front of a firing squad. Would they be watching for cracks in our story?
Once the formal introduction was over and the applause had died down, I discovered that no one had planned for Noah to be with us. I tried to find an appropriate spot for him to set up his supplies in the crowded room.
“Hey, uh, where should we put Noah?” I whispered to Logan.
He craned his neck to glance around. “Hmm, good question. Chris, do you know if the Concord Room is open? Or any of the smaller rooms?”
The young man tapped on the laptop in front of him. “Huh…it looks like everything is full. New vendor meetings and some influencer stuff.”
Logan frowned.
“Maybe if he sits in the corner?” I offered.
There was a single empty chair in the rear of the room. It wasn’t going to be easy for him to lose himself in drawing if he had to balance his notepad on his little legs for the next few hours, but we weren’t exactly swimming in options.
“I guess we have no choice,” Logan said.
“Give us two seconds,” I said as I ushered Noah to the chair. I quickly unpacked what could fit in the tight space.
“You okay?” I whispered to him.
“Yes,” he whispered back. “I’m going to draw pirates!”
The room had quieted, and everyone was watching me try to get Noah settled. I opened my mouth and started talking before I could stop myself.
“You know what would be amazing? If you guys had on-site daycare.”
The quiet in the room got quieter.
“Interesting,” Bev said. “Say more.”
Wait, what did I just do?
Sweat formed at the base of my neck as every eye in the room shifted to me.
“Oh, never mind.” I flapped my hand in front of me. Hopefully, the print on my dress hid any sweat stains. “Ignore me. Let’s get to the agenda.”
“No, I love the idea,” a voice piped up.
“Same,” someone else added. “What a value-add for potential new hires.”
“And it dovetails beautifully with our new family-friendly line. Logan, what’s your take?” Bev asked him. “What sort of on-site daycare would be perfect for Noah, if you could build your dream space?”
“Art supplies!” Noah piped up from the back of the room, and everyone laughed.
“Agreed,” Logan chuckled. “But I’m not sure I’m the right person to bring the concept to life. Nina? How would you design the space?”
My eyes went wide, and I took a step backward. “Me?”
And here I thought I’d just be a passive, smiley listener during the meeting. How had I ended up in the spotlight?
“Of course, you,” Logan replied firmly. He turned to address the room. “Nina has an extensive background in early childhood development. There’s no better person to brainstorm the specifics of a potential daycare center.”
The compliment left me speechless for a few seconds. Not just because he’d given me one in front of his colleagues, but because it felt so genuine. It was a foreign sensation, being appreciated like this.
My bright red cheeks probably broadcast my surprise to the room. I felt like I was about to defend a dissertation.
“That sounds pricey,” a deep voice echoed out. “Not sure we have the budget for something like that.”
Thanks to my background, I was ready with some stats for the buzzkill in the back.
“Um, there are upfront costs, sure, but it’s so worth it in the long run.
It’s estimated that daycare costs eat up at least twenty percent of a parent’s income, and with many daycares closing due to challenges with federal funding, just finding a good one is getting more and more difficult,” I began, my voice a little shaky.
“Providing on-site childcare not only makes employees’ lives less stressful, but it also creates a strong employee-employer bond, which makes it easier to retain talent. ”
I glanced around the room and saw that every single person was locked on to me. Instead of making me more nervous, I suddenly felt empowered. I knew my idea was a win-win, and from the way everyone was nodding, it was clear they were all on board.
“Agreed,” Bev said. “I’m more interested in hearing what you think would make an Ashford childcare center a peerless facility. I’m talking moon-shot, big-dream stuff.”
My heartbeat triple-timed; building a facility from the ground-up would allow me to bridge everything I’d learned, both in school and on the job, to create something truly wonderful.
I was used to making do when it came to creating childcare programs out in the real world. I knew how to stretch a tub of paint with water, use both sides of the paper, stretch every dollar to the limit—so the idea of creating a program from scratch with a blank check felt like Christmas morning.
And helping so many families? Total dreamworld stuff.
“Overqualified staff,” I began, like I could see it unfolding in front of me as I spoke. “We want to build a back end with benefits so strong that people are begging to come work for us. Attracting the best talent, that’s step one.”
Bev hummed, considering. “What else?”
I thought for a moment. “Then, the facility itself. I know firsthand that Ashford works with the best of the best when it comes to architects and designers, because every single part of the Kids’ Club onboard is amazing.
We’d need to take that same creativity and level it up into something intended for long-term, daily use. ”
I took a breath to see if my audience seemed invested. Based on their faces, I was downright fascinating.
But that could also be because they were trying to get a read on what the new Mrs. Ashford was like. Not a trophy wife, that was for damn sure. I was ready to work. I pressed on.
“We need a space that encourages creativity and exploration that also acknowledges some of our attendees might struggle with sensory overload. So a quiet, lower-light area for children who can’t tolerate overstimulation as well as a bright and cheerful main area.”
There were hums of agreement. “Then, lots of different activity stations. One for art, obviously,” I gestured toward where Noah was drawing.
“As well as other nooks for unleashing curiosity. And space for physical activity, like a mini climbing wall and, I don’t know, maybe some ADA-compliant stuff as well? ”
“Love it,” Bev replied. “Our parents with differently abled children would appreciate that sort of attention.”
I was on a roll. “And we could invite local experts in to share what they do and then try crafts with them, like potters and bakers. And those people who do wild animal experiences!”
“Wow, sign me up,” Logan chuckled.
“Seriously,” Bev agreed. “You clearly know what you’re talking about. I guess the next step would be an executive meeting to make sure we’re all on the same page and discuss timing and budget, then a feasibility study with our facilities manager. Logan, your thoughts?”
We all turned to look at the big boss, because at the end of the day, he held all of the power to kick the thing off.
He took a beat before he answered, watching me with a heat in his eyes that sent goosebumps skittering down my arms. For a second, it was verging on inappropriate, but then I remembered that to the rest of the world, he was gazing at his brand-new bride.
Damn. The man was selling it. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he wanted to strip me naked and have me right there on the conference table.
He finally seemed to shake himself out of his spell.
“I think we’re at the beginning of something very exciting,” he began, the double meaning only obvious to me.
“I want to fast track this concept and make sure that Nina is as involved as she can be. The optics of it are too good to pass up.” He turned to me.
“That is, if my beautiful bride has the bandwidth to take on a project of this size.”
It was an opportunity the likes of which I could hardly even conceptualize, yet here Logan was, ready to turn my dream into a reality with me at the helm.
Though the comment about optics tickled at the back of my mind.
Was he agreeing because he truly believed in my vision, or simply because I had become a PR asset?
I would prove to these people, and to Logan, that I was more than just good optics.
It was a good, solid idea, and if Logan was going to offer the resources, I was going to take them.
“Oh my gosh, of course.” I sighed as I glanced around the room.
“This is a literal dream for me. I have so many ideas!”
“Nina has the best ideas,” Noah piped up from the back of the room, and everyone laughed.
“She does,” Logan agreed, his eyes locked on mine. “And the very best one was agreeing to marry me.”
My knees went wobbly at the sincerity in his voice and the warm look he was giving me, as if we were the only people in the room.
I didn’t know what to say as the blush overtook my face. How was it possible that a fake relationship felt more real than anything I’d ever experienced?