Page 1 of She’s a Big Deal
Miami – Florida
Grace Michaels settled at her desk for an afternoon of creative work. On the other side of the thick glass walls of her splendid corner office, thunder rumbled over the streets of Miami. Inky black clouds simmered overhead, giving Grace the perfect vibe for the mood she wanted to achieve with her work today. Julia Raw (her real name), the hot Hollywood producer tipped to win big at the Oscars this year, had just acquired the old Pulse nightclub in town and given Grace carte blanche to re-design the interior. From top to bottom, all 10,000 square feet of space were hers to play with.
“Make it luxurious and classy,” Raw told her. “I want bold. Unique. I’ve seen some of your work, Ms. Michaels. I know what you can do. Amaze me.”
Grace excelled at amazing clients, even more so when they gave her free rein of expression. In the last couple of years, with a few key iconic creations, she had established herself as one of the country’s top three most sought-after architects and interior designers. Being who she was, she would not be fully satisfied until she reached the top spot, of course... But it was a good start. Her company, Brazen Inc., held offices in New York, Miami, and LA. She had firm plans to conquer Paris next. London, and the rest of Europe. Business was booming. She put on her ANC headphones and selected a jazzy, moody playlist to stimulate the mind. With a few quick taps on her keyboard, she activated the holographic design software she used to perfect her projects. This, too, had cemented her reputation as a remarkable player in the field. When it occurred to Grace that current design tools were not good enough for her expansive imagination, she put her software engineering skills to good use and created her own. Why not? All it took was a bit of clever coding, which she had taught herself as a hobby, a dash of AI, and voila! She had made herself a perfect weapon. On her desk was the latest copy of Time Magazine. She was on the cover, with a judicious title: Not just a pretty face. This was nicely tongue-in-cheek and had made her smirk when she saw it. You betcha. Smart, resourceful, and ruthless were the three words most often used to describe her in the press. And yes, she also did consider the last adjective a compliment. She rose from her desk after firing up the program. Thanks to the advanced software, Grace could walk inside the holographic representation she had created of her new canvas. And play.
“Marble floors,” she mused, causing the program to make them appear under her feet. “Hmm. Add layers of shimmering lights, like underwater reflections. Think Santorini party on a hot summer’s night. That kind of vibe.”
She shook her head as the program gave her exactly what she’d asked for.
“Actually, scrap this.” Yeah, it was too much. “Return to a blank canvas.”
Now then, what to do with this? Julia Raw wanted bold and unique—tall order in a city like Miami, where this tended to be the norm. It was a worthy, exciting challenge. Grace almost purred as the perfect idea began to emerge in her mind’s eye.
“Give me thick rubber flooring,” she ordered. “Yellow lines on the floor. Think hard and edgy. Space? Spaceship. Yes.” She let her mind riff on the concept. “Space station, Blade Runner vibe. Hmm. Maybe.”
A ray of unwanted light pierced through the holographic scene, breaking the mood and shattering her concentration.
“Save and exit,” Grace instructed. “Program off.” She removed her headphones and turned to face her PA, who stood at the door, looking apologetic. “Yes?”
Grace did not even try to sound warm. Her staff knew not to disturb her when she was in creative mode. She had fired one recently for failing to comply with the directive twice with no valid reason. So this had better be good.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, Ms. Michaels.” The woman winced, clearly aware of the stakes. “But there is an urgent call for you I think you should take.”
“Who is it?” Grace demanded.
“Zachary Wills from the Excelsior.”
It was a good call, actually. Grace would fire anyone who did not alert her that the CEO of the Excelsior chain of hotels wanted to speak to her.
“I’ll take it,” she nodded. “Thank you, Libby.”
“Yes, Ms. Michaels.” The assistant flashed a relieved smile. “I’ll put him through.”
Grace stood in front of her panoramic wall, staring at some spectacular lightning going off in the distance as Zachary Wills’s gravelly voice sounded on the speaker.
“Hello, Grace.”
“Zachary. What can I do for you?”
“Ah, yes. Well…” He sighed, prompting her to turn around wi th an irritated frown. The man was usually as straight as an arrow, always quick and to the point. Being allergic to bullshit and inane chit-chat herself, it was something Grace appreciated a lot about him. Now, his uncharacteristic hesitation hinted at some bad news.
“What’s the matter?” she prompted.
“Look, Grace, we just received an attractive counter-offer to yours,” he admitted. “I must admit it’s one to consider.”
The Excelsior group had recently issued an open invitation to the best designers in the land to submit their proposals for the renovation and revamp of all forty of their US hotels. It was a juicy contract and would be awesome for reputation as well. ‘Ours for the taking’, Grace had announced to her team. And so, this bid had entirely consumed the past eight weeks of her life. She was no stranger to hard work and being All-In for the win. When adding natural talent and skills to the mix, it was no wonder the Brazen Inc. offer had come off as the winner. Only the day before, Wills and his board of directors had agreed on a deal in principle. So convinced was Grace that no one could better what her company had to offer in terms of financials, originality, and quality of the work, that her first reaction to the news now was to chuckle.
“Oh yeah?” No way!
But Wills’s voice held no trace of amusement.
“Quite so,” he let her know. “They’ve quoted us cheaper on the work, with faster turnarounds, and the designs are similar to yours. So…”
“What?” Grace barely avoided choking on the word similar . She’d built her company from the ground up. Made a name for herself on the strength of being different, always one step ahead of predictable trends. Plus, she was super cost-efficient and one of the fastest turnarounds in the business. What Zachary was saying to her was ridiculous. “Who is it?” she growled. “Who quoted you such nonsense?”
“Expansive Designs Ltd.”
“Never heard that name before. Who are they?”
“It’s a new start-up company.”
“No kidding. Who’s the boss?”
“Her name is Kathryn Charles.”
“Never heard of her either. I’ll come over now and talk it through with you, Zac.”
“Now’s not a good time, Grace. I’ll call you when—”
“Why?” Grace snarled. “Is she there? Are you in the middle of looking at that proposal now?”
“Yes, but—"
“Thanks for calling. I’m on my way.”
“Grace. No. Wait a min—”
She cut him off and strode out across the main office. For God’s sake!
“Libby!” she barked.
“Yes, Ms. Michaels?”
“Get online and dig up everything there is to find about a company called Expansive Designs Ltd. Research their CEO, one Kathryn Charles, and send all that to my phone ASAP. I’m off to Excelsior HQ.”
“On it, Ms. Michaels.”
Grace walked out of her office on wings of fury, causing a few of her designers to stare in wonder as she stormed past their stations. She barely noticed any of the looks, fuming as she was. A better offer than ours? Like hell! She had won this deal fair and square. If anyone thought they could come in at the last second and steal it from her… They were going to discover otherwise.
◆◆ ◆
At least, the drive over was satisfying. Grace could have easily afforded ten limos and the same number of private chauffeurs if she had wanted it. But she chose to drive herself and favored a Ferrari 812 GTS convertible for the job. Blood-red in color, with a V12 engine, the car delivered on performance and elegance in equal parts, matching her personal style. She pushed the engine and literally flew on her way to the other side of Miami CBD. She just kept a wary eye out for traffic cops on the prowl since she did not want to add to the wad of speeding tickets already stuffed inside her glove box... But the supercharged drive gave her pleasure, as always, and also put her in the right frame of mind for what may be to come. Libby had come through with the requested information, which turned out to be very little. Expansive Designs Ltd, and their CEO, Kathryn Charles, were a complete mystery. The company had sprung out of nowhere six months ago. Yet, even in such a short amount of time, they’d acquired an impressive client portfolio. Something felt fishy with that business, and Grace raced into town prepared to do battle. Fifteen minutes later, she came to a steaming stop in front of a bemused parking attendant.
“Here.” She tossed him the keys, noted his grin spreading wide as he took in the proud and aggressive lines of the Ferrari, and issued a clear warning. “Put a single scratch on her, and I will have your job.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Proud, aggressive... Similar words could be used to describe Grace as she strode purposefully across the marble lobby. Once upon a time, she had traveled the world as a professional dancer. When a recurring injury ended that career, she could have gone into teaching but opted for architecture, design, and the business world instead. Though it proved a judicious choice, she still loved to dance in her spare time and maintained a rigorous training routine. Even approaching fifty, she had lost none of her carriage and fluidity. As she breezed past the front desk, the receptionist on duty would have seen a tall, slender woman with blond hair in a short stylish bob, dressed in a black pantsuit and expensive designer heels. Headed toward the elevators without a second glance, as if she owned the place and everyone in it.
“Uh… Ma’am… May I help you?”
“No thanks.”
The woman must be new, to call her ‘Ma’am’. Grace barely flicked her a disinterested glance as she punched the elevator button. And waited. Nothing happened.
“I have to activate it,” the receptionist informed her coolly. “I’ll be glad to do so if you tell me who you are here to see. Also, you have to sign in.”
The fact that she was enjoying this measure of power over her was not lost on Grace, who suppressed a scowl to not give her more satisfaction. Little people and their tiny pleasures, she figured. Well, then. She would enjoy toying with this one.
“I’m here to see Zac Wills.”
“I’m afraid Mr. Wills is in a meeting and can’t be disturbed at the moment.”
No kidding? “He’ll see me,” Grace assured.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No.”
“Well, then—”
“Look, Greta,” Grace read her name on the tag hanging off the front of her pale yellow blouse. Not a very clever choice to go with her red-haired skin, but Grace was not there to dispense style advice. “Zac is expecting me. Now do yourself a favor and don’t delay me any further.”
“And your name is, ma’am?” Greta inquired with practiced condescension.
“Grace Michaels; Brazen Inc.”
“Oh…” Contempt slid off the woman’s face to be replaced by a kind of awe.
Grace could not resist a cocky line. “Heard of me, have you?”
“Yes. Yes, Ms. Michaels. But Mr. Wills really cannot—”
Grace turned around and clicked her fingers on her way to the elevator. The receptionist must have reached the conclusion that she would rather deal with a reprimand later than a pissed-off Grace Michaels in person. Wise choice, indeed. Grace treated her to a sly smile before the private elevator doors closed.
“Thank you, Greta.” What a good girl, she almost purred.
Oh, she was pumped! Whoever thought they could resort to dirty tricks to steal what she had worked so hard for was in for a rude awakening. Wills’s private secretary greeted her on the top floor with a friendly, if slightly alarmed, smile.
“Ms. Michaels. We weren’t expecting you…”
“Yeah, I know.” Grace pointed with a long-nailed finger, painted blood-red like the Ferrari. “Conference room this way, right?”
“Yes… But—Ms Michaels, if you could just wait a minute, please…”
“Sorry, no.”