Page 19 of Bred By the Sheikh

“I just would’ve used more expensive words if I’d known someone was putting it on a wall.”

Several members of the marketing team smiled.

I took my seat at the end of the table.

“Then give us the expensive words.”

She raised her eyebrows at me.

“You’re enjoying this too much.”

“I probably am.”

That eased the room more effectively than any formal instruction I could have given.

Chrissy stood beside the screen.

Yesterday she’d looked tired beneath the determined set of her shoulders. This morning she looked rested, polished, and far too distracting in peach silk.

Then she began speaking, and I stopped thinking about the blouse.

“The existing campaign asks people to admire the hotel,” she said. “I think the revised campaign should let them imagine arriving here.”

The screen shifted to a sequence the team had assembled from her notes.

“A family gets in after midnight. We don’t need to show exhausted children screaming in a luxury advertisement.”

A few people laughed.

“But we can show that the connecting rooms are ready, the crib they requested is already there, and someone anticipated that they might need food after the restaurants close.”

One of my marketing executives said, “That risks making the service look domestic rather than aspirational.”

Chrissy nodded.

“It could, if you linger on the service itself. I wouldn’t. I’d linger on the guest realizing she doesn’t have to solve the problem.”

She didn’t look toward me for approval.

“What about accessibility?” I asked.

Her attention came to me.

“What about it?”

“Yesterday, that was one of your strongest observations. If we show every accommodation explicitly, the campaign becomes instructional.”

“It would.”

“So how do you include it?”

Chrissy considered the question.

“I wouldn’t make the accommodation the story.”

I waited.

She stepped toward the screen.