‘Sure.’
‘You want to, uh, have lunch with me?’
‘Lunch?’
‘Yes, lunch.’
‘With you?’
‘Yes, lunch with me. We had breakfast together.’
‘Actually, I, um, have plans with Mike.’ The sinking feeling in my gut was telling me I was a little disappointed. My head was telling me I was glad to have an excuse to put some distance between us.
‘Oh, okay. Well, I’ll see you this afternoon.’
I enjoyed his disappointment immensely. Though here we were with our lines blurred again.
***
The marketing meeting had been postponed because of some crisis Nick was having in his London office in the middle of the night there, so we ended up doing it at the end of the day. I must admit, I was tired when I walked into the meeting. Nick was distracted and had brought in his laptop so that he could continue to manage the issue.
I had been in the initial meetings with Ollie, where he had asked the marketing team for a national campaign and a single catchy slogan that would become synonymous with the hotels.
‘Right, let’s get started,’ Nick said to the bunch of twenty-somethings that had filed in.
‘Oh, great. Thanks so much, Nick.’
The spokesman was a young guy called Jake Taylor. He had a practised confidence that told me he’d done this sort of thing at uni and felt his day had finally come. He had on an expensive suit and was handsome in a young, preppy way. He probably did well at Friday afternoon drinks with the ladies. His enthusiasm was palpable, his eyes alight with the excitement of presenting a concept he was absolutely certain would revolutionise the company.
‘We’ve been diving deep into our demographic analytics and psychographic segmentation profiling to synthesise a brand narrative that resonates on both an emotional and aspirational level. The goal was to distil the essence of the guest experience into a succinct, impactful slogan that not only captures the luxury and comfort of our hotel chain, but also speaks to the figurative journey of our guests. After extensive brainstorming sessions and intensive focus groups, we believe we’ve landed on a tagline that encapsulates this.’
I blinked, because as far as openers go, that was jargon-y.
Jake clicked the remote, and the sleek PowerPoint presentation behind him flickered to the next slide, revealing the words in a bold, stylish font: ‘Another Day in Paradise’.
I looked at Nick, but his head was down and he was tapping away at an email.
‘We’ve crafted “Another Day in Paradise” to evoke bliss and escapism,’ Jake explained, pacing slightly as he gestured to the slide. ‘It’s designed to position our hotels as more than just places to stay, but as destinations where everyday stress melts away, and each morning feels like a renewal, a reminder of that vacation feeling. The phrase leverages the imagery associated with paradise, which our research shows has strong positive connotations across multiple demographics, particularly within the millennial and Gen Z markets. By tapping into these emotional triggers, we can drive higher engagement and foster deeper brand loyalty for consumers.’
He paused, looking around the table at the mix of young marketers, Nick and me, establishing eye contact with us. Well, with me, as Nick was still glued to his email. ‘We believe this slogan not only aligns with our brand ethos, but also differentiates us in a crowded market. It’s fresh, memorable and, most importantly, it tells a story our guests can relate to and aspire to.’
Jake’s smile widened as he concluded, clearly proud of the work his team had delivered. ‘So, what do you think?’
‘Great,’ Nick said.
I looked at him and then I kicked his chair. ‘Jake, I can see the hard work that has gone into this. But you can’t use it,’ I said.
As I spoke, Nick finally started listening and looked at the PowerPoint on the screen. A slight flex of his brows was the only change on his face.
‘Why is that, Abbey?’ Jake was clearly annoyed.
‘Because of the song.’
He snorted, ‘And what song is that, Abbey?’ His hands were on his hips, his snort telling me in no uncertain terms that women my age didn’t know more about music than him.
Beside me, Nick had closed his laptop and was barely concealing his amusement. He pushed his chair back and crossed his legs. He sat eagerly and silently, waiting for me to continue.
‘Phil Collins,’ I said.
