Chapter 3

“No, I’m fine,” I lied. “I’m just a little dizzy from the helicopter ride. Where is Wyatt?”

“On the other beach,” Dermont replied. “We thought it would be best for you to go ahead and start with the photographs for the catalog.”

I made an apologetic face. I was over an hour late. My plan was to spend the morning in Los Angeles while Nikki, Nick, and Wyatt would fly to the island before me. I would join them after they finished their private photo session and then spend the rest of the morning with Wyatt taking some photos to promote the resort. Nick would return to the city in his helicopter, and Wyatt, Nikki, and I would return later with Clark.

Nikki and I had recently discovered our shared love for photography, and Wyatt had offered to give us a crash course once the job was done.

“You didn’t bring your camera,” Nikki observed, her brow furrowed. “Is something wrong?”

I didn’t answer, but then I added, “Okay, yeah. Kind of.” I looked Dermont in the eye. “I need to talk to you.”

“I’ll go check on how Wyatt is doing,” Nikki said.

“No, please don’t,” I interjected. “I mean, if Mr. Dermont- if Nick doesn’t mind.”

I still had a hard time calling him by his first name during business hours. But, as he had pointed out more than once, I’d already spent quite a few hours having cocktails with his wife by the pool at his house, so after so many cosmopolitans, formality, when we were alone, was starting to feel forced.

“Of course, I don’t mind,” he replied. “What’s happened?”

I took a deep breath and delivered the news I had been keeping to myself. “Martin Glau left the project this morning.”

I saw Nick’s expression change instantly. Surprise turned to anger, which quickly transformed into resolute determination. Nikki reacted with less restraint.

“Glau?” she exclaimed. “But he was so excited… Why the hell would he quit?”

“He didn’t quit,” I clarified. “He left. He’s gone.”

For a moment, Nick just stared at me. “Gone?”

“Apparently, he went off to Tibet,” I explained. “He sold his property, closed his business, and told his lawyer to inform his clients that he’s decided to spend the rest of his life meditating and praying.”

“Son of a bitch,” Nick muttered, his anger barely contained. I rarely saw him display it in his business dealings, even though the press had magnified his short temper over the years. “What the hell is this about?”

“I understand your anger. In fact, I share it. This was my project, too, and Glau has managed to screw us all,” I tried to calm him down.

Even though the Cortez resort was owned by Dermont Vacation, that didn’t mean that Nick or his companies were fully financing it. No, we’d slogged over the past three months to land the best investors, and each and every one of them mentioned two reasons why they were committed to the project: Glau’s reputation as an architect and Nick’s reputation as an entrepreneur.

Nick ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, we have to get to work. If his lawyer is notifying his clients today, the press will find out right away, and everything will go very fast.”

I winced. I broke out in a cold sweat just thinking about it because this project was mine. I had conceived it, defended it, and worked tirelessly to make it a reality. It meant more to me than just a resort. It was my future. I had to keep this project alive. And I would, damn it. Even if, for that, I had to resume contact with the only man I swore I would never see again.

“We need to come up with a plan,” I said, my voice determined. “A concrete action plan to present to the investors.”

I saw a hint of amusement in Nick’s eyes. “And you already have a proposal. Good. Let’s hear it.”

I nodded and gripped the bag tighter.

“Investors were impressed with Glau’s reputation and career path,” I began. “But it is impossible for us to find another architect of the same caliber.”

Glau was the promoter of some of the most impressive and innovative buildings in the history of contemporary architecture. He was not only a famous architect but also a reputable one, and all this ensured the success of the project.

“So I suggest proposing a man who, by all accounts, is ready to match or exceed Glau’s professional worth.” I reached into my bag, pulled out the magazine, and handed it to Nick.

“Marcus Steele. He has the experience, the style, and the reputation. He is not merely a young valor. In fact, now that Glau is gone, I think it’s fair to say that Steele is the best. And that’s not all. Because, even more than Glau, he has the kind of fame that can benefit this project. I mean the kind of potential publicity that will not only excite investors but will come in handy when we promote the project.”

“Is that so?” Dermont asked in an oddly subdued tone.

He turned to Nikki, and I couldn’t help but wonder at the quick glance they exchanged.

“Read the article,” I encouraged him, determined to prove him right. “Rumor has it that they are going to adapt the story surrounding one of their projects to the cinema. But they have already made a documentary about him and the museum he did in Amsterdam last year.”

“I know,” Nick declared. “It opens tonight at the Chinese theater.”

“Yes,” I said enthusiastically. “You’re going? You could talk to him there.”

Nick’s mouth twisted in what I took to be ironic.

“Oddly enough, I haven’t been invited. I only know because Wyatt has commented on it. They had hired him to do the photo report of the red carpet and the guests.”

“You see it?” I insisted. “That man is booming! We need him in our team. And the article also says that he plans to open another office in Los Angeles, which suggests he’s looking to establish himself in the West Coast market.”

“Marcus Steele isn’t the only candidate,” Nick argues.

“No,” I agreed. “But, right now, he’s the only one in the limelight. Other than that, I’ve already researched the other potential architects, and none of them are available. Steele is. I didn’t propose him as an architect from the start because he had taken on a project in Dubai that would last six months.”

And I was thankful that Marcus was busy because I didn’t want to see myself put right in this situation.