“That’s EXACTLY what I need,” said Victoria. As the rest of us stared at her, Victoria sat up straight and cleared her throat. “What I meant was, that’s exactly what Samantha needs.” All eyes shifted from Victoria to me.
“What I need?”
“Yes, you, Sam,” said Victoria. “He is exactly what YOU need. What this campaign needs. Luxuryandauthenticity. You said it yourself. And what better way to achieve both those objectives than you and Noah working together?”
Everyone began talking over each other all at once. “Me and Noah together?” I asked through the bedlam.
“Yes, yes,” said Marcus, throwing more charts and graphs on the screen. “The potential for crossover synergies is inspired.”
“Look at these demographics,” added Parker, moving his cursor over a pie chart on the screen share. “We’re hitting both the adventure-seeking millennials and the luxury-loving boomers. It’s cross-generational appeal.”
“Urban sophistication meets mountain expertise.” Marcus smiled for the first time since the Zoom call started. “I like it. I like it a lot.”
“Well, I LOVE it.” It was clear from the look in her eyes that when Victoria said, “I love it,” what she meant was, you better find a way to make this work or else.
For the next several minutes, Victoria, Marcus, and Parker brainstormed strategies and workshopped logistics while I tried to contain a full-blown panic attack. Mixed with a mental breakdown. Topped with an emotional outburst.
Obviously, there was no way such a crazy idea would ever work. Noah and I working together? It was preposterous.Ludicrous. An impossibility. Noah hated me. I mean, he couldn’t stand me so much that he stranded me at the airport.
Not to mention the fact thatIalso hatedhim.
“Aren’t you all forgetting one thing?” I raised my hand tentatively, like a student who didn’t want to be called on, but felt obligated to point out that the classroom was on fire and we were all about to die.
The excited energy on screen sputtered to a halt.
“Noah hates me,” I pointed out. “There’s no way he would ever agree to this.”
Victoria smiled. Slowly, she shook her head. “Samantha. Dear sweet, Samantha. That’s ridiculous. Noah doesn’t hate you.” She stared into the camera. “Noah hates me. Not that it matters who Noah hates. Because we have all the leverage. Isn’t that right, Maya?”
Maya stared down at the table. Her shoulders slumped, but she nodded.
“He’ll play ball,” said Marcus, his smile carrying all the warmth of a collections telemarketer. “If he wants to save his job and the jobs of his friends.”
“Sam’s right,” said Maya, her voice strained. “There’s no way Noah would agree to this.”
“Just make him an offer he can’t refuse,” said Victoria.
“What is this, aGodfathermovie?” I waited for Marcus to suggest putting one of the severed elk heads in Noah’s bed.
“Honestly, Maya, Samantha, I don’t care how you get him to do it, just get it done. What could possibly go wrong?”
Chapter Twelve
“NO. FUCKING. WAY.”
Noah crossed his arms, biceps popping out of his flannel sleeves like granite boulders. His steel-blue eyes bore into us like we’d just propositioned him for a threesome. Which, to be honest, would have been a lot less awkward and intimidating.
As soon as Maya and I hung up from the Zoom call, she’d let it all out. She told me how Noah and his crew ran the Adventure Center, the log cabin barn-like structure where Al dropped me off my first night. It was part of the original lodge, she explained, and handled all the “authentic Colorado” guest experiences. Hiking, rafting, horseback riding, the works.
Needless to say, it didn’t quite fit the LuxeLife brand. So once their contract was up … bye-bye Adventure Center. And apparently Noah and his friends would go bye-bye with it.
“This was Victoria’s idea?”
“Actually, it was Sam’s,” Maya shot back.
Thanks Maya.Sure, I deserved partial blame for the whole authenticity angle, but getting up close and personal with Mr.Mc’Grumpy Flannel Frump was definitely not part of my vision. Unless you count the vision I had in the tub. And the dreams I had after getting out of the tub. And several dozen random imagination malfunctions since.
Noah glared over at me again.
