Page 14 of Love Marks
“The one and only. You are…?”
“I’m Quinn Taylor. Eva sent me. I’m looking for a job.” I step all the way into her office, and we shake hands.
“Nice to meet you, Taylor.”
I don’t bother correcting her. She spends the rest of the meeting reiterating Eva’s speech, adding more information about expectations, hours, and asks me to fill out some paperwork. All in all, it only takes a few hours. She tells me that I can start next week once my paperwork clears.
Standing on the street outside the Hyatt, I call my mom to tell her the news. She screams for a solid minute before announcing that we need to celebrate tonight.
“I’m going to cook eggplant parm!”
She sounds so excited about it, so I agree. Her eggplant parmesan is great. I tell her I’ll pick up the ingredients on my way home. Heading to the subway, I spot a sleek black limousine parked outside the Hyatt. How the other half lives. I notice a man in a crisp black suit striding out of it and into the hotel, his back to me. He almost looks like…
“Watch where you’re going, lady!”
A cab driver honks at me for five straight seconds before I realize I’m standing in the middle of the road staring at the man in the suit. I run forward with an apologetic wave, but the driver just shakes his head and speeds past me. I turn back to walk towards the subway, trying to muster some enthusiasm for my new job, but all I find is a sinking sense of disappointment.
Chapter 7
Wesley
I have officially moved into my new penthouse suite. I didn't bring much with me, mostly just clothes and a collection of books that was impossible to select. George came to greet me after the bellhop finished bringing up my last suitcase.
“Not too shabby, huh?”
He was bragging. Floor-to-ceiling windows with views of the skyline surrounding us, a giant kitchen with an island and a bar, a living room with a fireplace and multiple bedrooms — the place was fantastic, no doubt about it.
“It’s perfect, George.”
“Come, look at the office.”
He gave me the grand tour, pointing out specific art pieces selected by Hyatt's on-staff collector. After about thirty minutes of detailed presentation, he finally left. I had that unsettled feeling in my stomach that I always get the first night in a new place. In my early twenties when I worked for our international division, I travelled all the time, staying at a penthouse in almost every major city, and I never lost that feeling. It's part of why I came back to New York for good.
Stepping into the master bedroom, I take off my tie and throw it onto the chair in the corner. I pull on a t-shirt and lie on the bed. I feel restless, bored. So, I do what I always do — work. Our first project as a merged company is the Park Avenue development. It’s essential that this go well. My family’s legacy is on the line.
I grab a water bottle from the well-stocked fridge and retrieve my briefcase from the foyer before I go into the office. The space is nice enough, but I still prefer my home office in Dumbo. With a teal accent wall and books covering almost every surface, it’s got more of a personal touch than this Restoration Hardware catalogue lookalike.
Settling into the chair, I pull some papers out of my briefcase and fire up the computer. I check through my emails and send Beverly a few action items and notes for tomorrow. Monday will be our first day at the Hyatt offices across the street and we launch right into development of the Park Ave hotel on Wednesday.
I pull up the plans for the new development. We’re still going back and forth about a name. For now, the project remains Untitled Park Avenue Project. The property’s been purchased, and renovations are underway. Now, it’s mostly in the architect’s hands as he works with our interior designer, Lindsay, on getting together the plans for the hotel.
My phone buzzes with a message from Ben:
How’s the penthouse, playboy?
I shake my head and type out a reply.
Strippers on the way.
Ha ha. I’m downstairs.
What? I stand up from the desk just as the phone rings. I pick it up and the cheerful voice of Anne, the receptionist, greets me.
“Hello, Mr. Marks. Your brother is here to see you. Shall I send him up?”
“Yeah, go ahead. Thanks.”
Ben loves to check in on me at unexpected and uninvited times. It’s incredibly annoying.