Chapter Eleven #2
‘I, um, just wanted to thank Abbey. She rendered crucial first aid to Oliver and got him to the hospital as fast as possible. My brother, sister and I have always tried to keep this feeling like a family business, but it has gotten so big that it is sometimes hard to manage. Abbey cared for Oliver in those first few moments like he was her own family, and I honestly cannot express my gratitude.’
I put the water back onto the table with a thud.
He met my eyes. ‘Thank you.’
I nodded slightly, or at least I think I did.
Nick cleared his throat and began going around the table, starting with Mike. ‘Why don’t you give us an update on the finance team?’
‘Thanks, Nick. I’m relieved to hear Oliver is okay.
I hope you will pass on our regards. We’ve been busy with the end of financial year next week.
I sent emails about what we needed from department heads.
If those reports could be submitted by Wednesday at the latest, that would be incredibly helpful. ’
‘Guys, if we can try to get those to Mike as quickly as possible, that’d be great. Mike, just knock on my door any time or let Abbey know if you need me. I’m completely confident you guys are all over it. Right, who wants to go next?’
By the third manager, I could see the table had collectively relaxed and, as a result, some great discussions and teamwork occurred. I could also see where Oliver had learned leadership, that it wasn’t something he knew innately; it was something he had learned from Nick.
The other interesting thing from the exec meeting was just how many things he included me in on, things that were going to be reported to me instead of him, or things he wanted me to sit in on so that even I left the meeting a little invigorated professionally.
However, the different number of Nicks was making me a little wary, too. Holiday Nick, Brother Nick, Sex God Nick, Prick Boss Nick, Good Boss Nick. Abbey’s Nick? Cute with Ella Nick? Jesus.
I dropped him a report he wanted later that day.
‘Abs, I’m a little stretched. I hope you don’t mind me handing some things over to you?’
‘Of course. I’m honestly a little excited to be included.’
‘Abbey, we both know if I weren’t here you could run this place on your own. You know this business inside out. You undervalue yourself enormously. If you want to do something different than be an EA when Ollie gets back, tell him.’
I smiled, pleased.
‘Will you come and sit in on the marketing meeting after lunch?’
‘Sure.’
‘You want to, uh, have lunch with me?’
‘Lunch?’
‘Yes, lunch.’
‘With you?’
‘Yes, lunch with me. We had breakfast together.’
‘Actually, I, um, have plans with Mike.’ The sinking feeling in my gut was telling me I was a little disappointed. My head was telling me I was glad to have an excuse to put some distance between us.
‘Oh, okay. Well, I’ll see you this afternoon.’
I enjoyed his disappointment immensely. Though here we were with our lines blurred again.
***
The marketing meeting had been postponed because of some crisis Nick was having in his London office in the middle of the night there, so we ended up doing it at the end of the day.
I must admit, I was tired when I walked into the meeting.
Nick was distracted and had brought in his laptop so that he could continue to manage the issue.
I had been in the initial meetings with Ollie, where he had asked the marketing team for a national campaign and a single catchy slogan that would become synonymous with the hotels.
‘Right, let’s get started,’ Nick said to the bunch of twenty-somethings that had filed in.
‘Oh, great. Thanks so much, Nick.’
The spokesman was a young guy called Jake Taylor.
He had a practised confidence that told me he’d done this sort of thing at uni and felt his day had finally come.
He had on an expensive suit and was handsome in a young, preppy way.
He probably did well at Friday afternoon drinks with the ladies.
His enthusiasm was palpable, his eyes alight with the excitement of presenting a concept he was absolutely certain would revolutionise the company.
‘We’ve been diving deep into our demographic analytics and psychographic segmentation profiling to synthesise a brand narrative that resonates on both an emotional and aspirational level.
The goal was to distil the essence of the guest experience into a succinct, impactful slogan that not only captures the luxury and comfort of our hotel chain, but also speaks to the figurative journey of our guests.
After extensive brainstorming sessions and intensive focus groups, we believe we’ve landed on a tagline that encapsulates this. ’
I blinked, because as far as openers go, that was jargon-y.
Jake clicked the remote, and the sleek PowerPoint presentation behind him flickered to the next slide, revealing the words in a bold, stylish font: ‘Another Day in Paradise’.
I looked at Nick, but his head was down and he was tapping away at an email.
‘We’ve crafted “Another Day in Paradise” to evoke bliss and escapism,’ Jake explained, pacing slightly as he gestured to the slide.
‘It’s designed to position our hotels as more than just places to stay, but as destinations where everyday stress melts away, and each morning feels like a renewal, a reminder of that vacation feeling.
The phrase leverages the imagery associated with paradise, which our research shows has strong positive connotations across multiple demographics, particularly within the millennial and Gen Z markets.
By tapping into these emotional triggers, we can drive higher engagement and foster deeper brand loyalty for consumers. ’
He paused, looking around the table at the mix of young marketers, Nick and me, establishing eye contact with us.
Well, with me, as Nick was still glued to his email.
‘We believe this slogan not only aligns with our brand ethos, but also differentiates us in a crowded market. It’s fresh, memorable and, most importantly, it tells a story our guests can relate to and aspire to. ’
Jake’s smile widened as he concluded, clearly proud of the work his team had delivered. ‘So, what do you think?’
‘Great,’ Nick said.
I looked at him and then I kicked his chair. ‘Jake, I can see the hard work that has gone into this. But you can’t use it,’ I said.
As I spoke, Nick finally started listening and looked at the PowerPoint on the screen. A slight flex of his brows was the only change on his face.
‘Why is that, Abbey?’ Jake was clearly annoyed.
‘Because of the song.’
He snorted, ‘And what song is that, Abbey?’ His hands were on his hips, his snort telling me in no uncertain terms that women my age didn’t know more about music than him.
Beside me, Nick had closed his laptop and was barely concealing his amusement. He pushed his chair back and crossed his legs. He sat eagerly and silently, waiting for me to continue.
‘Phil Collins,’ I said.
‘Who?’
‘Phil Collins. You know, pop artist? Genesis? Actor? He sang “In the Air Tonight”.’
‘Uh, nobody here knows who that it is, Abbey. Maybe it’s a little irrelevant. We are trying to build the brand’s future. You guys always want to get stuck in the past. It’s the difference between my generation and yours.’
Oh, Jake.
‘Jake, you cannot use that slogan. Regardless of whether you know the song or not, regardless of whether you know one of the biggest-selling artists from the 1980s or not. The song is the reason you cannot use the slogan. The last demographic report that came across my desk two weeks ago suggested that over sixty per cent of Delacqua’s clientele were born prior to 1985, so predominantly our customers are Gen X and Baby Boomers.
If you had used them in your focus groups, with the slogan instead of just the word “paradise” – which of course people respond positively to – you would understand what the issue is …
before you brought it to this meeting with the owner of the company.
’ I was on a bit of a roll. ‘The issue is that the song is about a homeless woman.’
‘But that’s perfect, Abbey. Delacqua is a home for everyone.’
‘Jake, the price tag for a basic room at one of our hotels is $500 per night. I can assure you it is not a home for everyone. The song “Another Day in Paradise” refers to a woman starving on the streets and asking a man for help. He ignores her and goes about his life, living another day in paradise.’
‘Oh, I know who that guy is!’ one of the young marketing assistants, who had an iPhone in her hand, piped in, clearly having done a Google search. ‘He’s Lily Collins’s dad, Jake. You know, Emily in Paris.’
It was Nick’s turn to look confused, but I had Ella and Netflix and no life. I knew what they were referring to. Summer was probably a bit young.
‘You guys really don’t know who Phil Collins is?’ Nick asked.
There were a few grumbles and shakes of the head.
‘“Easy Lover”? “Invisible Touch”?’ Nick waited patiently before standing.
‘Okay. Well, we are back to the drawing board with this one, team. Let’s see what else we come up with.
Jake, I’ll just get you to run it by Abbey before we meet at this level again. ’
We sat as they filed out, dejected.
‘Who the fuck doesn’t know who Phil Collins is?’ Nick said irritably.
‘Jesus, are we that old?’ I said incredulously.
‘Good save. I wasn’t listening.’
‘I know. Are you—’ I stopped and attempted to rephrase what was going to be a personal question. ‘Is everything okay?’
‘I’m a little flat.’
‘That’s because of everything that’s been going on.’ I couldn’t shift the caring notes of my voice.
‘I guess.’ He swallowed. ‘Why don’t you head home. I’ll send a car to pick you and Ella up so you don’t have to drive.’
I nodded. ‘Okay. That’d be nice. Thank you.’
‘You know what my favourite Phil Collins song is?’
I shook my head.
‘“Groovy Kind of Love”.’