Chapter 150
Chapter 150
Olivia
I wrapped my fingers around the oversized coffee mug on my desk, inhaling the rich aroma that promised to jumpstart my brain. The Thompson Hotels project file lay open before me, pages of market research and competitor analysis spread across my desk in organized chaos. Two weeks into my new role as Senior Marketing Strategist, I was finally finding my rhythm.
My office phone buzzed, and Dylan’s voice came through the speaker. “Mrs. Carter, I’ve compiled the demographic reports you requested for Thompson. Also, this is a reminder that we have a site visit scheduled for 11 a.m.”
I pressed the intercom button. “Thanks, Dylan. I’ll be ready to leave in twenty minutes.”
I turned back to my notes, scribbling additional ideas for the Thompson rebrand. The luxury hotel chain had been losing market share to trendier boutique hotels that better captured the attention of younger travelers. Our job was to help them reclaim their position without alienating their loyal customer base.
A soft knock interrupted my concentration.
“Come in,” I called, not looking up
from
my notepad.
Dylan entered with a tablet in hand. “I’ve prepared a briefing packet for our site visit to the Beverly Hills property,” he said, placing a sleek folder on my desk. “It includes the property specs, current marketing materials, and competitor analysis for luxury hotels in the area.”
I flipped through the immaculately organized pages. “This is incredibly thorough, Dylan.”
“Just doing my job, Mrs. Carter.” He adjusted his glasses with a small smile. “The car will be here in fifteen minutes. Should I grab your portfolio?”
“Yes, and can you print the concept boards Ava sent over this morning? I want to reference them while we’re on site.”
“Already in the folder,” he replied, tapping a section of the packet. “Along with Brandon’s digital strategy
notes.”
“Well, it’s appreciated.” I stood up, gathering my things. “Let’s head downstairs.”
As we walked through the marketing department, I felt the weight of curious stares. Despite two weeks in my new position, the whispers hadn’t completely subsided. I kept my head high, reminding myself that I deserved this role, regardless of how I got it.
Michelle was on a call when we reached her office, but she waved us in with a smile.
“I’ll email you those projections by the end of the day,” she said into the phone before hanging up. “Are heading to Thompson Beverly Hills?”
you
I nodded. “We should be back by mid–afternoon. Is there anything specific you want us to focus on during the visit?”
10:13 Sat, Sep 13
Chapter 150
“Pay attention to the public spaces,” Michelle advised. “Their lobby and restaurants are underutilized, considering their prime location. Oh, and meet with Andrew Thompson if you can. He’s particular about the family legacy.”
“Is he going to be difficult to work with?” I asked, mentally preparing myself for a challenging client.
Michelle’s lips quirked. “Let’s just say he has… opinions. Very strong opinions about maintaining the Thompson brand identity. He’s rejected three marketing firms before us.”
“Great,” I muttered. “No pressure or anything.”
“You’ll handle him,” Michelle said confidently. “Just don’t let him bully you into a weak concept. He needs our expertise, whether he realizes it or not.”
With that encouraging thought, Dylan and I headed to the elevator. As promised, the car was waiting: a sleek black sedan with a professional driver who held the door open as we approached.
“Thompson Beverly Hills, please,” I instructed as we settled into the back seat.
Dylan immediately pulled out his tablet. “I’ve been reviewing their guest demographics. There has been an interesting shift in the last quarter; they’ve seen a 12% increase in guests under 35, but their average stay duration has decreased.”
“Weekenders rather than extended stays,” I mused, looking out at the Los Angeles traffic. “Probably social media driven. People want the Instagram moment without the full luxury experience.”
“Exactly my thought,” Dylan nodded enthusiastically. “They’re getting the younger crowd through the door but not converting them to loyal guests.”
We spent the rest of the drive discussing potential strategies, with Dylan taking rapid notes on his tablet. His enthusiasm was infectious, and I found myself generating more ideas than I’d had in weeks.
The Thompson Beverly Hills came into view, its classic façade elegant against the blue California sky. The building exuded old–world luxury, with doormen in traditional uniforms and gleaming brass fixtures.
“It’s beautiful,” Dylan commented as we approached. “But…”
“But it doesn’t exactly scream ‘modern luxury,” I finished for him. “It feels like stepping back in time.”
“In a good way?” he asked.
I considered the question as we walked through the revolving doors into the marble–floored lobby. “In some ways. There’s something timeless about it. But it also feels disconnected from what today’s luxury travelers want.”
The lobby was impeccably maintained but decidedly traditional. Heavy drapes, ornate furniture, and crystal chandeliers created an atmosphere of stately elegance that belonged more to the last century than the current
one.
A polished young woman approached us with a professional smile. “Mrs. Carter? I’m Vanessa Winters, the hotel manager. Mr. Thompson is expecting you in the executive lounge.”
10:14 Sat, Sep 13
Chapter 150
She led us through the lobby to a private elevator that whisked us to the top floor. The executive lounge continued the hotel’s traditional aesthetic, with leather club chairs, dark wood paneling, and a bar that looked straight out of a 1940s film noir.
Andrew Thompson stood as we entered. He was a tall man in his fifties with silver hair and an immaculately tailored suit. His handshake was firm, his smile perfunctory.
“Mrs. Carter, welcome to Thompson Beverly Hills.” His gaze shifted to Dylan. “And you are?”
“Dylan Park, Mrs. Carter’s assistant,” Dylan replied smoothly.
“Please, sit.” Thompson gestured to the seating area. “I understand Carter Enterprises believes it can revitalize our brand.”
I caught the slight emphasis on “believes” and recognized the challenge in his tone. Michelle hadn’t exaggerated; this man was going to be tough to convince.
“Mr. Thompson, we don’t just believe it; we know it,” I replied with confidence I didn’t entirely feel. “Your hotels have a legacy of excellence that spans generations. Our job isn’t to reinvent the Thompson experience, but to translate it for a new generation of luxury travelers.”
He leaned back, studying me with sharp blue eyes. “Three marketing firms have sat where you’re sitting and promised the same thing. All delivered concepts that would have stripped away everything that makes a Thompson hotel special.”
“I’m not interested in stripping away your identity,” I countered. “I’m interested in highlighting what makes you unique in a way that resonates with both your existing clientele and potential new guests.”
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