“But…” Victoria leaned over the table, eyes fixed on mine. “LuxeLife does, in fact, sell luxury. It’s in our name. Miss Li, how would you reconcile this authenticity with the aspirational lifestyle our brand represents?”
I gathered my wits and my thoughts. “Luxury isn’t just about thread counts and infinity pools anymore,” I said. “It’s about access. Experiences. Stories worth telling. Rich people can go anywhere. But what they can’t buy is the local knowledge, the hidden gems, the genuine connections.”
Marcus nodded, seeming to warm to the idea. “So you’re suggesting exclusive access to authentic experiences.”
“Exactly!” I pointed at him like he’d just solved a math equation involving fractions.
Marcus leaned in close to Victoria, whispering in her ear. She nodded, then whispered back. “Miss Li, you’re familiar with our portfolio?”
“Like the back of my hand.” As soon as we’d gotten the invitation to interview with LuxeLife about their campaign, Parker and I had poured over every piece of information we could find. I had all their top spots memorized. Paris. London. Bali. Hong Kong. There were more places, but not anywhere worth going.
“There’s one property in particular where we think you might be a good fit.”
Please be Paris, please be Paris, pleasebe Paris.
Or London.
Or Bali.
Or Hong Kong.
“Aster Park,” said Marcus.
“Aster Park? As in … Colorado?”
“It’s been bleeding red. Bookings are down despite renovation efforts.
“Expensive renovation efforts,” Victoria added. “Do you think you could work a little of your Samantha magic there?”
Aster Park. I knew all about it. I just didn’t want to go.
Over the past week, any time I dared to let myself dream of the remote possibility that I could land this job, I always pictured myself nibbling designer macarons in Paris. Taking selfies in front of Kensington Palace. Putting together Instagram reels of my over-water bungalow in Bali.
“Samantha?”
I forced a smile back onto my face. I was a professional after all. “Yes, I can absolutely work my magic there. Of course. Your Aster Park property isn’t just a luxury resort. It’s a gateway to experiences most people will never have. The best mountain views known only to locals. The small-batch bourbon distillery that doesn’t offer public tours but might open its doors for LuxeLife guests who don’t mind splurging on craft cocktails.”
Victoria tapped a polished nail against her chin. “So authenticity as the new luxury.”
“And who better to showcase that than someone who built her entire brand on finding authentic experiences?” I asked the room. “I won’t just show your customers the spa treatments and the thread counts. I’ll show them the moments in between. The ones that make a vacation unforgettable.”
The room had shifted. I could feel it in the air, like the moment at a K-Pop concert when the band is about to debuttheir new dance moves. Even Golf Voice and Slick Hair seemed to buy it.
Victoria steepled her fingers. All she needed was an eye patch and a hairless cat and she would have been a perfect Austin Powers villain. “And you think you can do this at Aster Park?”
“I know I can,” I replied immediately, praying my voice sounded more confident than I was.
Victoria exchanged another long look with Marcus. Some silent communication passed between them.
“The Aster Park team has been pushing for more ‘local flavor’ in our advertising,” said Victoria.
“Local flavor?” asked Parker
“You know, Colorado stuff. Dress up in cowboy boots and take a selfie with a polar bear or something.”
“I don’t think they have polar bears in Colorado.” Parker frowned.
“Whatever. You’ll figure it out.” Victoria waved her hand as if she was shooing a gnat. “Honestly, I don’t care what you do or how you do it as long as you get people to spend their money at my resort. Ship in a polar bear from the South Pole if you have to.”
