<b>Chapter </b><b>21 </b>
<b>Heads </b>turned <b>as </b><b>I </b>entered the <b>office</b>. My blue dress stood out starkly against the <b>sea </b><b>of </b><b>gray </b>suits, sparking whispers behind my <b>back</b>.
My new office <b>sat </b>right next to Tracy’s<b>, </b>with only a ss partition separating me from Jared’s workspace, giving me a <b>clear </b><b>view </b>of him at all times<b>. </b>
Jared called me into his office along with several managers.
The two hotels I <b>was </b>inheriting were failing Hob family properties–poorly maintained and currently operating at a loss.
The managers‘ reports confirmed my suspicions–outdated facilities, aging decor, and no viable strategy for improvement. They cited the ongoing losses as justification for withholding further investment.
Jared sat silently nearby, his cold gaze fixed on me.
I recognized his strategy immediately–he intended to saddle me with failing businesses, anticipating my struggle would send me retreating back to domestic life. The ploy was transparent.
But as I reviewed the financials, I noted their prime location near Willow Bay. When the tourism boom came, these properties would be golden.
My first order of business was getting Jared to finance theplete renovation of both struggling hotels.
“Honey,” I said, turning with my most charming smile, “would you invest in your wife’s first business venture?” I met his gaze without blinking. If <i>a </i>little flirtation secured the deal, I’d y the game.
My confident approach clearly surprised him. “How much do you need?” he asked instead of refusing.
After a quick mental calction, I held up one finger.
“Ten million?” His eyebrow quirked upward.
“One hundred million,” I replied. The math was simple–only by bing the undisputed industry leader could we justify this investment. Top–tier hotels printed their own money.
The managers<b>‘ </b>stunned expressions said it all. That kind of investment in failing hotels must have sounded like pure insanity to them.
Jared gave a humorlessugh. “Be serious, Victoria. Why would I pour that much money into guaranteed failures? This proves you’ve no business sense.”
I shrugged, undaunted. “We won’t know unless we try.”
“A hundred million is serious money,” Jared said tly.
A hundred million was no small sum, yet I knew Jared would dly spend that exact amount next year on a luxury vi for <b>Tracy</b>, his most pampered songbird.
<b>“</b><b>If </b>you won’t provide the funds, could I take out a loan to invest in these hotels?” <b>I </b>asked calmly.
<b>Jared </b>frowned slightly–he hadn’t expected my determination. “Here’s thirty million. Do as you <b>see </b><b>fit</b>,” he finally said.
It <b>was </b>less than <b>I’d </b>asked, but still <b>a </b>concession.
<b>1/2 </b>
Cikapici <b>21 </b>
“Thank you, dear.” With the files secured and <b>a </b>smile that didn’t reach my eyes, I made my exit.
The calctions unfolded in my head–saving these hotels would require a solid strategy <b>before </b>any <b>real </b>work began.
It was <b>2014</b>, and my travels in my previous life had introduced me to extraordinary hotels worldwide. Now I’d use that knowledge to transform these two properties into something extraordinary. All I needed was the right team to refine the vision and amplify their reputation.
Social media wasing into its own this year, and I intended to secure our presence across every major tform. Timing was everything, and being first to market gave us our best shot.
At <b>six </b>o’clock, the sky outside had already darkened. Jared knocked on my office door, making me look up from my paperwork.
“Let’s go out for dinner tonight,” he said. His invitation caught mepletely off guard.