Page 11
Story: The Exception
I tempered my teasing at the sight of her anxiety. “I often feel that pressure too. To keep people’s interest. But you always come up with such creative content.” I tapped a finger to my lips. “Maybe work in more of the other projects you do. Baking. You mill your own flour. Show that!”
“You really think people would be interested?”
“Heck yeah. And you have some retreats coming up, right?”
“Yeah. Sedona. South Africa. And Alaska. Though, I’m usually so busy running them that there’s not enough time to focus on content. Even if there were, I want to make sure the attendees feel safe to share in such an intimate experience.”
I could understand that. I’d attended one of her retreats, and it had been amazing. “You are great at creating an atmosphere where people feel free to be vulnerable. Actually, I was hoping that, one day, you’d lead a retreat at the château.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Yeah. Maybe we could make it an annual thing. I want it to be a place for wellness. Luxury travel isn’t just about expensive surroundings and sumptuous fabrics. It should be restorative for the mind, body, and spirit.”
“Ooh. I love that.”
We kept brainstorming until the captain announced that it was time for takeoff. As soon as the wheels left the ground, I was finally able to relax a little. I was still upset about my family’s texts, but the fact that Josephine had booked a ticket and would be there to help with theles Journées du patrimoinewas a huge relief.
When I yawned a third time, Jo inclined her head toward the end of our pod. “Why don’t you close the curtains and rest.”
I blew out a breath. I hadn’t been sleeping well. The rainstorms always made me feel exhausted and defeated, magnifying the precarious state of the château.
I was stressed about money. About everything the château needed. The fact that my family was ganging up on me didn’t help.
Auntie Jackie had given me that money.Meand no one else.
That was her decision. Just as it had been her money.
Hell, when she was alive, the rest of my family had never checked in on her. Never bothered to have any kind of relationship with her. They’d never cared about her until they’d found out about the money she’d left me. It was disgusting, and it made my heart ache.
I didn’t want to think about it anymore. I didn’t want to think about anything. So I pulled the complimentary silk sleep mask down over my eyes and reclined my seat into a bed, trying to enjoy this slice of luxury.
It was a far cry from the traveling I’d done as a child, which had been rare and consisted solely of road trips. All six of us crammed into a van that, more often than not, left us on the side of the road. And yet, that van was more reliable than my family.What a depressing thought.
* * *
“This is stunning,”Jo said, taking it all in as she snapped a few pictures.
Lush tropical plants surrounded a grand entrance. And everything about the building spoke of the quiet elegance I’d come to expect from Graham and the Huxley brand.
“It is,” I agreed, drawing closer to the interior courtyard where water cascaded off a fountain, light dappling the space between the wooden slats. “But it’s also practical and sustainable. The water feature uses rainwater and helps regulate the temperature and humidity levels.”
“Wow. That’s cool. Plus, it’s a nice way to welcome guests.”
“Exactly,” I said. The waterfall and walls cut down on noise and created a calming atmosphere to welcome guests.
I took a few pictures, wanting to capture it for my blog. Made a few notes in the app I used to prep my posts. But when I was finished, it wouldn’t save. I frowned down at the screen, trying and failing to save again.
“Wow. Impressive. This was one of the last projects you worked on, right?”
I nodded. “It’s designed by Atlas Blackwood.”
Her eyes widened. “Holy shit.TheAtlas Blackwood?”
“The one and only.” Atlas was a famous architect known for his commitment to incorporating local materials and focusing on sustainability. When Graham had proposed Atlas to the board, they’d balked at the cost. Graham had had to fight them again and again—on that and other issues. But I’d secretly applauded him for his vision and his tenacity.
He might come across as cold and aloof at times, but I’d learned a lot from Graham during my time as his personal assistant. He’d been a fair and generous boss. And whenever I’d shown an interest in something, Graham hadn’t hesitated to let me gain more experience.
Since I’d purchased the château, I often found myself reflecting on his leadership. I’d asked myself countless times what he’d do if he were in my situation. And while he had more resources and family support at his disposal, his work ethic and determination helped me stay focused. Helped me stay motivated even when I felt like giving up.
“You really think people would be interested?”
“Heck yeah. And you have some retreats coming up, right?”
“Yeah. Sedona. South Africa. And Alaska. Though, I’m usually so busy running them that there’s not enough time to focus on content. Even if there were, I want to make sure the attendees feel safe to share in such an intimate experience.”
I could understand that. I’d attended one of her retreats, and it had been amazing. “You are great at creating an atmosphere where people feel free to be vulnerable. Actually, I was hoping that, one day, you’d lead a retreat at the château.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Yeah. Maybe we could make it an annual thing. I want it to be a place for wellness. Luxury travel isn’t just about expensive surroundings and sumptuous fabrics. It should be restorative for the mind, body, and spirit.”
“Ooh. I love that.”
We kept brainstorming until the captain announced that it was time for takeoff. As soon as the wheels left the ground, I was finally able to relax a little. I was still upset about my family’s texts, but the fact that Josephine had booked a ticket and would be there to help with theles Journées du patrimoinewas a huge relief.
When I yawned a third time, Jo inclined her head toward the end of our pod. “Why don’t you close the curtains and rest.”
I blew out a breath. I hadn’t been sleeping well. The rainstorms always made me feel exhausted and defeated, magnifying the precarious state of the château.
I was stressed about money. About everything the château needed. The fact that my family was ganging up on me didn’t help.
Auntie Jackie had given me that money.Meand no one else.
That was her decision. Just as it had been her money.
Hell, when she was alive, the rest of my family had never checked in on her. Never bothered to have any kind of relationship with her. They’d never cared about her until they’d found out about the money she’d left me. It was disgusting, and it made my heart ache.
I didn’t want to think about it anymore. I didn’t want to think about anything. So I pulled the complimentary silk sleep mask down over my eyes and reclined my seat into a bed, trying to enjoy this slice of luxury.
It was a far cry from the traveling I’d done as a child, which had been rare and consisted solely of road trips. All six of us crammed into a van that, more often than not, left us on the side of the road. And yet, that van was more reliable than my family.What a depressing thought.
* * *
“This is stunning,”Jo said, taking it all in as she snapped a few pictures.
Lush tropical plants surrounded a grand entrance. And everything about the building spoke of the quiet elegance I’d come to expect from Graham and the Huxley brand.
“It is,” I agreed, drawing closer to the interior courtyard where water cascaded off a fountain, light dappling the space between the wooden slats. “But it’s also practical and sustainable. The water feature uses rainwater and helps regulate the temperature and humidity levels.”
“Wow. That’s cool. Plus, it’s a nice way to welcome guests.”
“Exactly,” I said. The waterfall and walls cut down on noise and created a calming atmosphere to welcome guests.
I took a few pictures, wanting to capture it for my blog. Made a few notes in the app I used to prep my posts. But when I was finished, it wouldn’t save. I frowned down at the screen, trying and failing to save again.
“Wow. Impressive. This was one of the last projects you worked on, right?”
I nodded. “It’s designed by Atlas Blackwood.”
Her eyes widened. “Holy shit.TheAtlas Blackwood?”
“The one and only.” Atlas was a famous architect known for his commitment to incorporating local materials and focusing on sustainability. When Graham had proposed Atlas to the board, they’d balked at the cost. Graham had had to fight them again and again—on that and other issues. But I’d secretly applauded him for his vision and his tenacity.
He might come across as cold and aloof at times, but I’d learned a lot from Graham during my time as his personal assistant. He’d been a fair and generous boss. And whenever I’d shown an interest in something, Graham hadn’t hesitated to let me gain more experience.
Since I’d purchased the château, I often found myself reflecting on his leadership. I’d asked myself countless times what he’d do if he were in my situation. And while he had more resources and family support at his disposal, his work ethic and determination helped me stay focused. Helped me stay motivated even when I felt like giving up.
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