I scrub a hand down my face and dial Craig. “What the hell happened this morning?”
There’s a beat of silence. “Sorry, sir, I’m not entirely sure what you’re referring to.”
She didn’t even report back to him? What kind of communication breakdown is this?
“MacLeod’s entire team thinks they’re being replaced because of Georgie’s demo,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Oh.” Another pause. “She must have misrepresented the system somehow. I went through the brief with her yesterday. I’ll sort it immediately.”
“Send someone else. Someone who can handle it.”
“Roy could be there in a few days—”
I hang up, frustrated. Georgie created a mess. But Craig should have known better than to send her if she’s not ready for this role.
Five minutes later, I track her down, tucked in the back office, headphones on, lost in her screen. She doesn’t even notice me in the doorway.
“Georgie.”
She shrieks and spins around in her chair, clutching her chest like I’ve just kicked down the door with a machine gun.
“What the hell happened this morning?”
Her face goes white. “The… the kitchen?”
“Yes, the damn kitchen. I just spent twenty minutes getting chewed out by an angry Scotsman.”
“I’m sorry.” She swallows hard. “It didn’t go quite as planned.”
“No, it damn well didn’t.” I step inside her workspace, and she shrinks into the chair. “News travels fast here. One person tells another; they tell five more. By lunch, the whole hotel thinks they’re being replaced by bloody robots.”
She bites her lip. “I was just trying to show them how the system could make things easier.”
“By telling them they’re incompetent?” My voice rises despite my efforts to control it. “That everything they’ve been doing for years is inaccurate?”
“But some of what they’re doingisinaccurate.” Her voice comes out tiny and strangled, but there’s still this stubborn thread of defiance running through it.
I cross my arms, fighting to keep my temper from exploding completely. The Forbes evaluation is looming, the staff are in revolt, and she’s sitting there defending her approach like it was reasonable. “Christ almighty. You can’t just bulldoze in there and tell people their methods are shit. You’ve got to warm people up first. Not just ram it in and hope for the best.”
Her mouth opens, then snaps shut, and she stares at me with this deer-in-headlights expression that makes me realize exactly how that sounded.
Professional, McLaren. Try not to sound like you’re explaining sexual techniques to your employee.
She nods quickly, her cheeks flushing pink. “Right. Of course.”
I clear my throat roughly. “What I’m trying to say is… this hotel has two Michelin stars. MacLeod’s team has been perfecting their craft for decades. These aren’t amateurs you’re dealing with—they’re professionals at the top of their game.”
She nods fast, chewing her lip like she might bite clean through it.
“I’ve asked Craig to send backup from London. Someone with experience handling these kinds of rollouts. You should’vereported immediately when it went sideways. We don’t hide fuck-ups here. That’s not how I run things.”
Her eyes well up so fast it knocks the wind out of my chest. “You’re replacing me?”
I lean forward, hands braced on her desk, trying to soften this somehow. “No, Georgie—”
She flinches back so hard the chair wheels bump against the wall.
For a moment, I just stare at her in complete bewilderment.
