He rings off, and I slouch, stunned at our conversation.
“Did whoever that was hang up on you?” Oakley asks.
“I think his phone lost connection,” I mutter.
“Oh really? Because it wouldn’t surprise me if those TV people are an absolute nightmare to work with.” Turning to Kat, she adds, “Better her than us, am I right?”
“Oh yeah,” Kat says knowingly, “but that’s why she’s making the big bucks and we aren’t.”
Oakley stiffens. “She and I are in the same pay grade.”
Looking at me, Kat says, “I thought you were her boss.”
“Nope,” I answer, my face turning red. “She and I have the same job.”
Oakley glares at me for a second, and I know she thinks I go around telling everyone she works under me. Which I don’t, obviously. Kat must not have been listening when I said I’mapplyingfor the management position, and there’s no sense denying it, because she won’t believe me anyway. Just what I needed: one more reason for Oakley to hate me.
Whatever. I’ve got more important things to think about, starting with figuring out if the Island of Eden is booked when we need it for the show.
* * *
Mike the Moose - Tiktok Video
“Hey, everybody! Mike the Moose here, live from my office here in beautiful Montreal, Canada.” He spins the camera to show his office is actually a high-end nightclub. “The remaining semi-finals wrapped up today, and I have to say, a couple of the names have me almost leaving moose droppings on the floor.” He winks. “Just kidding. Come on, it’s me, The Mooooosssee! Nothing scares a moose, baby. Okay, let’s get to it:
“Representing Europe is the Croatian Crusher herself, Marija Horvat! Oceania is sending the one and only Aiden Ward from New Zealand. Come on, Oceania? Ward again? I mean, I guess you can go that way if you want to lose!”
Mike laughs, then says, “From Africa, we have Junior Afumba of Johannesburg, South Africa. Central America is sending Eddy Morales of Guatemala. Yay, Eddy! And finally, the guy every man wants to be and every woman wants to be with… Paz Castillo of The Bahamas, representing the Caribbean.”
Cupping his mouth on one side, as if he’s about to reveal a big secret, he says, “Paz has me a little… ahem… concerned. He has mad skills, especially when it comes to flair and storytelling, but don’t worry, my Moose Heads, because Mikey’s been practicing non-friggin’ stop for weeks. I’m heading south with a whole new level of bottle-flipping madness. YEAH!” he shouts, then lowers his voice. “I’m going to sign off and go pack because it’s almost time for this moose to make tracks!”
6
Computer Crashes and Temper Tantrums
Theo - One Week Later
When I wasat Oxford getting my master’s in business, I played poker. A lot of poker. Not that I’d ever admit this to my family or employees on account of pretending I’ve always been the responsible man they have come to know and love. But in my early twenties, I couldn’t get enough of the game. Looking back on how many classes I missed after pulling all-nighters with a cigar dangling from my lips, I can tell you, with all honesty, it was the best training ground for the business world there is. Forget Economics 512, study the World Series of Poker if you want the inside track on how to make it.
I learned how to spot my opponent’s tells—a shift of his gaze, a twitch of the thumb, the bouncing of a knee. I also mastered the art of hiding my own tells. Along with those skills, I learned two valuable life lessons:
1) Everybody’s bluffing most of the time.
2) If you’re going in, goallin.
That second one is the reason why I’m currently standing in a long line of tourists in the open-air lobby of the Paradise Bay Resort. After convincing the board that this bartending competition is “the best thing that could have happened to Rojas Rum,” I spent the rest of the week getting my shit in order fast so I could hop on a plane to Santa Valentina Island, where I’ll work and live for the next three weeks.
If I’m pinning all our hopes on this ridiculous spectacle, I better damn well be here to make sure it works. If it doesn’t, I’m out on myculo. Unfortunately, Carolina and Markos have also decided to join me which, let’s face it, is not ideal. Markos insisted on coming to help clean up the mess he made, which sounds noble but really isn’t. He just can’t stand the idea of missing the party.
Carolina was originally intending on popping over here at some point to make sure things were going well with filming, but upon hearing about my decision to sponsor the contest, she has “upped this to the top of her priority list to ensure everything goes as planned.”
Fast forward to the current moment, which feels like we’re a strange family—Carolina and I both in business attire and our son Markos, dressed to plunge into the pool.
He’s in a cobalt blue rashguard with long-sleeves, matching board shorts, and flip-flops. I’m a little jealous, because a suit isn’t exactly the most comfortable attire in this setting, but I’m not here for a vacation. I’m here as the president of a major corporation, and I’ve got over eight-thousand reasons to remain the pillar of professionalism.
Unfortunately, we arrived immediately after a shuttle bus filled with guests and about ten seconds before the resort’s computer system crashed. If this is a sign of what’s to come, my hopes that this event will resurrect our brand have shrunk considerably. I’m about at the end of my patience, and it’s only ten in the morning. In precisely forty-two minutes, I have a Zoom call with one of the largest liquor store chains in the US regarding “adjustments to their order.” I need to set up somewhere quiet in the next few minutes so I can prepare.
In front of us, a couple struggles with their restless son, who looks to be about six years old and happens to be wearing the same outfit as my brother, only in neon green instead of blue. The child jumps up and down on the spot and whines, “But I want to go swimming now!”
