Page 41 of Say You'll Stay
“Right. You know, that thing you seldom are.”
I snort a laugh.
Cormac continues, “The look of the resort will set the tone for not just the resort, but the rest of Somerset Harbor. We need to be a leader, not a follower, and we can’t do that if we’re keeping things old-fashioned, Beau.”
Beau’s lips, once so enticing, now bunch in frustration. “Cormac, this is not the way to attract the old money types who haunt Somerset Harbor. They won’t be happy with this. They don’t go to hotels that look like this. I know you want to modernize, but I don’t think this is the best way to do that.”
Cormac sits back and thinks for a moment. He is more methodical than his brother. Far more careful. I can’t imagine him brushing his things from his desk for a place to fuck on. He’s too tidy and thoughtful.
Not spontaneous, like Beau.
He notes, “I assume you brought more than one option, Elsie.”
“Of course.” I flick over to the traditional drawings. “Thought this might be more in line with what Beau said he wanted—"
“You want the resort to look like the Cargills’ place?” he asks incredulously.
Beau huffs a laugh. “No. She did this on her own. And I already told her we do not want to look like them.”
Cormac takes a breath. “Good. But there is no reason not to incorporate some of the design elements into our resort, if you want to merge the two styles—
“You cannot be serious,” Beau objects. “Our resort should have nothing in common with their yacht club.”
But I remind him, “You’re the one who said he wanted traditional, and it doesn’t get more traditional than their yacht club.”
He grunts, before muttering, “We are not discussing that again.”
“We are, if you aren’t going to tell me what you want,” I say with too much edge in my voice.
Cormac, à propos of nothing, says, “I’m glad we didn’t get Pavel.”
Beau and I both shoot him a look. He asks, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You would have fawned over Pavel, taken all his suggestions. It would have been easy, and it would have been wrong for Somerset Harbor. Don’t make that face—I know he’s an artist, but he is so far up his own ass he doesn’t listen. He makes all his buildings about himself. Elsie listens,andshe doesn’t put up with your shit. It’s good for you, and it’s going to make the resort all the better for it.”
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“I’m not,” he says with a smirk. “It’s about time you met your match.” Then he turns to me. “He’s a blowhard, Elsie. Keep up the good work.”
I laugh. “Thanks.” I know he doesn’t mean anything by what he said, but it was strange to hear I was Beau’s match. Most of the time, I feel like he’s running roughshod over me. It’s why I get so frustrated with him.
“Anyway, regarding the front elevation, I like the modern take on it,” Cormac says. “As far as I’m concerned, we can scrap the other drawings.”
“Good thing the ultimate design is not up toyou,” Beau says sharply.
“Merely offering my opinion. Not trying to step on toes.”
“Understood. And I’ll take it under advisement, but given this is the biggest project we have undertaken and everything is riding on it, I’d prefer to go with a known business model instead of an experimental design.”
I shake my head. “It’s not experimental, Beau. I have compiled the design trends of future watchers and combined that with the esthetic you claim to want to create a design uniquely perfect for MacMillan Corp. It has elements of the past, while stepping into the future, so I am just not sure why you object—"
“Because it’s not right.”
“Then you are going to have to show me what you want.”
But we both remember the last time I said that to him, and heat flashes through me while he looks befuddled. Cormac shrugs and nods. “That’s fair, Elsie. Beau, if you don’t like what she’s showing you, then you need to show her what you want.”
He takes a beat, and his eyes narrow on me as he smirks. “Ihaveshown her.” That look on his face makes me all twitchy.