Undertow (32 page)

Actually, I had already started. We broke ground on Phoenician I three months ago. I decided we should keep it low-key, opting instead for a big ribbon-cutting ceremony once the building was complete and we had a better handle on how successful it was. Perhaps I was in the throes of an internal struggle when we made that decision, but looking back, I still think it was the best approach.

Watching them lay the foundation on what would become a massive, twenty-story high rise was an awe-inspiring event. The size of the concrete pilings they dropped to anchor the huge structure drove home the potential force of nature that could hit these big boys. And watching the trucks come in and compact it all, seeing the steel girders and the rails, it was impressive. I felt a surge of confidence. This was what I had done. This was the product of our labor.

June 28, 19--

We were renting office space for the time being from one of the local realtors. We managed to get a good deal and our offices overlooked the intercoastal waterway between the mainland and Dolphin Shores.

Since Alex came back, we’d gotten in the habit of a daily meeting around mid-morning to go over our status and determine where we stood and what needed to be done. Often Bryant met with us, but just as often he was out on the site meeting with contractors or troubleshooting and problem solving.

Those meetings were the best part of my day—going over where we were and where we were headed, making measurable steps forward. They made our plan feel as strong as those concrete pilings, and it was great talking to another person as eager for this dream to be a reality as I was.

It was an encouraging contrast to Meg’s increasing complaints we were taking too long and begging for another baby. Her constant nagging made my stomach burn. I wanted her to be happy, but I barely saw Will as it was. Just a few more months was all I needed. Then I could stop working so much. I could be around more… be a better dad.

But Meg couldn’t seem to hear that.

When I arrived at the office, Henry Austin was waiting to fit me for two new suits. He was the best local tailor, and I’d decided after the last two board meetings I needed a more polished edge. It was an extravagance, but after seeing how the younger partners liked to show off, I decided it had to be done.

“I’ve brought over the fabric swatches for you to flip through while I take your measurements,” Henry said. I slipped out of my coat and pants while he pulled out the tape measure.

“What’s the latest thing in Atlanta?” I asked, not really up on fabric choices.

“This dark brown with the plum pinstripe is flying off the bolts, and with your coloring, it should do nicely.”

He took a swatch and held it over my shoulder as I stood in my boxers waiting to finish being measured. It seemed silly to spend this much time on clothes, but I knew it could pay off with a contract.

“Sure,” I said. “And I guess I should have a dark blue or grey?”

“Yes, sir. The darker fabrics are toward the back. Just select one you like. May I suggest the petrol?” He pulled out a dark grey worsted wool sample as Alex tapped and entered carrying two coffees.

Our eyes caught, and she quickly turned on her heel so her back was to me. “I didn’t know this was going to be formal,” she said.

I laughed. “Don’t you knock?”

“I tapped. That’s the part where you shout ‘indecent’ or something.”

“Give me a second.”

She left the room and Henry finished taking measurements. I was dressed and putting my coat back on when I stuck my head out the door to find her leaning against the wall flipping through one of Henry’s catalogs.

“A thousand dollars for a suit?” She glanced at me with an eyebrow arched. “I’m trying to think if I spend that much on clothes in a year.”

“Get in here.” I took the catalog from her hands.

She breezed into my office wearing one of those flowy dresses she preferred. She’d given up the power suits except for official business, and I didn’t object. Lexy always looked beachy and beautiful, just like my plan.

“What’s the deal? Did I get a raise and you forgot to tell me?” she asked.

“Do you need a raise?”

“No, but if you’re buying thousand-dollar suits, I’m starting to feel underpaid.”

I went around and took my spot behind the desk. “It’s for board meetings. You don’t know how those guys act when I walk in wearing a hundred-dollar off the rack number.”

She leaned back, sipping her coffee. “I thought they forgot all about your lack of fashion sense after you wowed them with your big dreams brought to life by my artistic renderings.”

“It helps,” I said, taking the lid off my drink. “But there’s always some guy close to my age who’s sizing me up, and what I’m wearing is a big part of his evaluation.”

“Hmm. I think you’re just rationalizing a nice suit. And don’t get me wrong, I get it. It’s fun being treated like a princess.”

“Prince?”

“Potato, potahto,” she grinned.

“So what are we looking at today?” I watched as she pulled out her portfolio and spread it across my desk.

“I’ve put together what we talked about last week for Phoenician VI, the lobby and the outside patio. Were you wanting to do something different for the penthouse atrium and fitness center?”

I looked over the drawings, amazed how they reflected exactly what was in my head. “What did we do with five?”

“Calypso,” she groaned. “Against my better judgment. You don’t remember that?”

“Oh, yeah. I really liked that with the steel drums and all. Very nice.”

“Hmm. Thanks, I guess.” Her nose wrinkled. “You know, I’ve never actually been to Jamaica, but I’ve seen pictures.”

“We should take a research trip,” I said, thinking how it might work. “Visit other high-end resorts in different locations. It would be a write-off if we were scouting ideas.”

Her eyes widened. “Sounds great! Who do you know with high-end resorts in exotic locations?”

“Right.” I leaned back in my chair again. “And there’s the catch.”

“Talk to some of your investor-friends,” she said, going back to her sketches. “Where’s Bryant? I want a second opinion on this.”

“Some problem with the frameworks at Phoenician I. He told me, but I can’t remember the details.”

She straightened and tossed down her pen. “You don’t remember what Bryant said. You forgot my loud objections to the Calypso theme. What’s with you these days? You’re so distracted. Is it the suit?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said, not looking up.

“Trouble at home?”

My tone grew impatient. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“If it’s something with the development, you’d better tell me. I could probably still get my job back in Atlanta.”

I glanced up then. “It’s nothing with the development. Everything’s going great there, and I’m scheduled to go back and meet with another investment group in a week. I’ll follow up with Peachtree and then I’m meeting with Aspen Equities. Your job’s secure.”

She nodded. “Aspen. That’s a big deal. So if it’s not the development, then what is it? Battle fatigue?” She leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs and retrieving her coffee.

I followed suit. “Maybe. Probably. Since school’s been out, it’s like what do I do with all this extra time? Normally I’d be either in class or up here working all hours. Now it’s like… I feel like I’m forgetting something all the time.”

“I bet if you wanted to take a few days off no one would have a problem with it. We all know how hard you’ve been working.”

I shook my head. “I can’t do that. I’m finally here full-time. Bryant’s been carrying the ball on this end almost three years.”

“It’s not like you’ve been sitting on the sidelines doing nothing.”

“I know, but I need to be here. I need to establish my identity in the office.”

She smiled. “Time for that portrait?”

“Nah, you were right.” I gave her a little smile back. “We should probably wait a few years before I start declaring the coast conquered.”

“How does Meg feel about all this?”

“I don’t know,” I deflected. “She’s not really interested.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m sure she’s very interested in talking to you about your feelings. Did something happen?”

I snapped the lid back on the now-empty cup. “I’m not talking to you about her.”

“We talk about everything else,” she said, leaning forward and sliding her sketches back together. “I mean, heck. I just saw you in your shorts ten minutes ago.”

“I’m not giving you ammunition to use against me. I know you two. You would never take my side against her.”

“I didn’t know there was a side to take.”

My eyes met hers. “I’m not discussing this with you.”

She heaved up her portfolio case. “Fine. I’m going to start on our Small World theme. That’s what we’re doing, right?”

“I was thinking more greens and turquoise. Emerald city.”

“If you only had a brain,” she called.

“A heart.”

She rolled her eyes, pushing through the door. I grinned. It was pretty awesome having someone who really understood my vision and could still make me laugh on the team. I never expected it would be her.

Jan. 16, 19--

Taking the gang to Mexico was a stroke of luck I couldn’t pass up.

Rex called from Atlanta saying he wanted me to meet with a good friend of his, Marco Dominguez. Marco owned Tango Sol, a high-end resort right on the Pacific, and while I suspected Rex meant for me to go alone, my chat with Lexy had been on my mind ever since.

Things with Meg were escalating, and we’d all been working hard. I figured we could use some personal and professional bonding time. We were moving past our status as high school friends, and with the first Phoenician so close to opening, I liked the idea of us having a more jet-set image, regardless of how it was funded.

Marco and I were instant friends. He was a smart guy, and like me, a native of the area he developed. The difference was his family had owned the property and had given him the money to help him get started.

He put us up in his best accommodations, but since it wasn’t quite his high-season yet, I figured it wasn’t setting him back much. Once Meg and I were settled in our private cabin, I walked down the hillside to his office to meet him.

“Bill.” Marco shook my hand. “Rex says you’re the next Gerald Hines.”

“Rex exaggerates,” I said, opting for humility with my peers. “I’m just a salesman. But we have some great engineers on the team.”

“Well, it’s good to meet you at last.” He motioned me to a chair. “The last time Rex was here, you were all he talked about. The up and coming star. He wanted me to fly over and see what you were doing on the Gulf Coast.”

“The door’s open,” I said, taking a seat. “Once we have the sites online, you owe us a visit.”

“I’ll take you up on it,” he said, sitting as well. “How do you like the place?”

“It’s gorgeous. You’ve done too much for us.”

“Not at all. Only the best for a fellow visionary.”

“So Rex said you had lots to share. Where should we start? A tour of the grounds?”

Marco grinned. “Let’s start with the problem of finding a good manager. One who can take all the work off the owner.”

Jan. 18, 19--

Most of my days in Mexico were consumed with meetings and touring the property, but I wasn’t complaining. Bryant and I were learning things that would otherwise have taken us a lot of trial and error to figure out.

The resort at Tango Sol was much larger than I expected, and it included a full golf course, a spa, a restaurant with a bar out on the beach, and private cabins separate from the main hotel building.

Marco took advantage of the hilly topography by incorporating it into the architecture and the landscape of the grounds. Waterfalls flowed over paths that connected most of the main buildings and cliffs looked out over the Pacific. And while I was preoccupied with work, the girls seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Meg was happier than she’d been in a while. She even wanted to revisit a few of those sex positions we hadn’t tried since our honeymoon.

Her body is rocking as ever, and both of us are experts now at getting each other off. But here’s the deal—and I know this is going to sound all New Age and shit—even though our nights were hot, I couldn’t seem to connect with Meg the way I used to. Something was wrong somehow. It was like a separation as wide as the Gulf had spread between us, and sex didn’t fill the void.

I wanted to shake it off. I figured it was the stress or all the damn baby talk. She brought it up again, but I managed to change the subject. I told her this trip was supposed to remind her of what we were working toward, what I wanted to give her. Once we were over the mountain, we could sail into the sunset, relax, and have fun. And we could have all the babies she wanted.

I just feel like I’m talking to myself half the time.

Making my way down the hillside to the kitchen area I looked out toward the ocean. The effect of the view and the sound of the waterfalls made me eager to get back home, back to planning. I wanted this ambiance for our sites, and I needed to talk to Lex about working up some sketches based on what we were seeing here. She was taking pictures of different elements. We’d look at what she had at our next meeting back home.