Orlando
Trying to show The Promenade to a potential buyer without alerting my mother was harder than I thought it would be. She said she was retiring, so I thought she would be drastically cutting down her hours. That turned out to be a bald-faced lie. She was there every day with her tailored clothes and her pearls, chatting up every person who walked through. I managed to send her to lunch with her friends for the first potential buyer, but now I had one coming in an hour and my mother was walking around with the head gardener, chatting about what new things to plant.
If things went as planned and she transferred ownership to me, I would be selling it and didn’t care one lick about what flowers were blooming when. I needed to sit down with her and make sure she was going to turn things over to me, so I could then sell and set her up for a luxurious retirement and I could get back to my own company.
Though I did enjoy the more relaxed pace set here in Savannah. It was much more casual than in Atlanta. Suits were not everyday wear, I had learned. Polos and khakis passed as business-wear here and I liked that. I liked taking things slower and not feeling rushed. But it wasn’t the life I was used to. And I had plans to sell. At least, I think I did.
I paused though, thinking about Amaya coming to work for us. I could see her every day. If I sold The Promenade, I might not ever see her again. Selling as quickly as possible had always been my plan, so actually looking over the books to see just how lucrative a business it was had never entered my mind. It did now. If my mother wanted to hire Amaya, there must be enough revenue to do so easily.
I quickly opened our finances program and scanned everything. People were paying an arm and a leg to use this space. The entire property was paid off, so aside from taxes, utilities, and maintenance, there weren’t many expenses for the building itself. I pulled up the big numbers for the past five years. Even with the pandemic we were well in the black.
There was a lot of thinking to be done, but first, I needed to get my mother out of sight.
“Orlando, darling, I’m running to have brunch with Rebecca Gloss.” My mother’s small frame filled my doorway. She looked like a modern day Jackie O with her large sunglasses and flowing scarf. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
Relief flooded me, but I steeled my jaw so as not to show it. “Enjoy yourself, Mom. You’re supposed to be retiring, right? You’ve earned a life of leisure at this point.”
She waved a bejeweled hand at me. “Leisure? What’s that? I like to stay busy. I’ll be back this afternoon.” She disappeared from view, her scarf fluttering after her.
Shaking my head, I pulled up my email to check it before my appointment. There was an email from Amaya.
Mr. Daniels,
I am interested in hearing more about the option that come with a job at The Promenade. Can you give me more specifics? Would this be full-time? Are there benefits? What are the company policies?
I want to give this my due consideration. Thank you.
Amaya Journet
There were no set answers to those questions because it had all been my mother’s idea. Would an event planner be needed full-time? I checked the schedule and every weekend was completely booked a year out, with only a few dates open after that. There were a few lunch and evening events as well. It could certainly warrant a full-time position.
But I was going to sell the place, right? And despite that, I didn’t date coworkers and I wanted to date Amaya. Maybe I should ask her out for coffee to discuss details.
When my appointment arrived fifteen minutes early, I was happy for the distraction from Amaya. These potential buyers were a couple who had always dreamed of a beach-side event venue. The wife was immensely disappointed that we were not oceanside.
I toured them around, showing them the ballroom, several conference spaces, and ending in the gardens. The husband appeared bored, the wife grew more and more disappointed as the tour went on. She had wanted a beach-side castle and this was not it. No amount of uptalking would convince her to alter her vision.
As they left, my mother returned. “Was that a couple looking for a wedding venue?” She watched them drive off in a neon green convertible.
“They had heard about us and wanted to check it out,” I told her. “But the woman wanted ocean-side, it seemed.” I turned to go inside, expecting my mother to follow me.
Once we were in the shade of the colonnade, she spoke again. “I need you to set up a meeting with Alexander. We need to go over the books.”
When I looked back at her, her mouth was in a thin line and her brow was furrowed. Did she know what I was doing in showing the place to potential buyers? It was best to appear unflummoxed. “Okay.”
“You’ve been learning the ropes here wonderfully, but I want to talk to Alexander about future projections. How we can expect to do in the next five years, maybe ten years. Especially if we bring Amaya on and perhaps a chef.”
In my office, I leaned on my desk and Mom took a seat. “Good idea, Amaya actually emailed me just a bit ago and wanted to know more details about the job. If it came with benefits and what the salary would be.”
With a huff, my mother shook her head. “I don’t know that right off. Call Alexander. See if he can come in this week.”
I leaned over and kissed her temple. “I’ll call right now. Don’t worry, Mom.”
Standing, she waved her hand in the air. “I never worry, Orlando. It gives me wrinkles if I worry.”