Chapter Rating: PG
Two Martinis and one demotion later, Olivia tried to relax back in her reclined leather seat en route to the airport. She knew that she couldn't, in all fairness, fire Greg over a couple of misplaced tickets. But nevertheless, a lesson had to be learned. Olivia Spencer demanded perfection. Always had and always would. There was no room for errors when running a One-Woman Show on a multi-million dollar stage. And so, in true Spencer form, she had just made a very public display of her intolerance of incompetence and demoted her Personal Assistant to the status of paper-pushing Mail Room Manager. The audience, consisting mainly of equally as petrified bell-hops and chambermaids, watched in horror. Some, she guessed, were no doubt taking notes for if and when it ever happened to be 'their turn'. Knowing that the demotion would only last a few weeks before she would re-instate Greg's position at her side, Olivia found it almost invigorating that she could still bring a grown man so near to tears.
Olivia adored Power. And she loved being feared.
Now with her drink in hand, she flipped open her attaché, and pulled out the thick 'Empire' file. She estimated that she would have approximately 23 minutes to go over the details of her proposal during the ride to the airport and 4 hours while in-flight to iron out any kinks in her plans. She wanted to begin practicing her speeches for the following day's presentation also. That I can do on the plane...and then I can use the remaining minutes from Baggage to the limo to steel my nerves and solidify my calm, confident persona.
She would admit to no one that this deal was, for the most part, scaring the shit out of her. It didn't happen often, but Olivia knew what a monumental effect this deal could have on the future of her Beacon franchise. She needed to collect her wits before being introduced to Mr. Rivera at the airport. Although she was highly impressed that Antonio Rivera had offered to meet her personally when she arrived from the plane, she was also dreading the near hour-long drive back in such close quarters with the President of the largest hotel chain in California. If there was one thing that Olivia hated, it was feeling inferior. In Springfield she was not only the best in her field, she was the field. And everyone worshipped her within it accordingly.
No matter, she thought to herself, I will NOT present myself as needy and I refuse to 'suck-up', despite how desperately I need this deal to go through.
As she reached the airport, she let out a weary sigh. The vanishing act that Greg had performed with her tickets had led to him using clout and calling in a few favors in order to get her on the already booked-solid flight. They arranged a seat for her, yes. But not in First-Class.
"This oughta be fun," she droned and made her way to the gate.
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"Ohhhh NO, n n n noooo!" A wide-eyed Natalia bellowed adamantly with a half laugh of disbelief. "This is YOUR deal, Dad, your idea – NOT mine!"
"I have two very important meetings with our vendors that I wasn't expecting but must be present for," Mr. Rivera countered. "You must take my place in welcoming our potential business partner to the hotel."
"Why me, why not Mateo?" She suggested, hoping against hope that she had found a way out of this.
"I would like to make a good impression on this particular client, Natalia. I love your brother, but we both know that first impressions aren't his strong points."
Mateo Rivera, half-brother / mortal enemy to Natalia, owned equal shares as she did in the family company and, yet, rarely ever concerned himself with doing equal work in maintaining it. He was much more skilled at spending their father's money and 'entertaining' the daughters of the dodgy diplomats that visited the grand hotel.
"Natalia, it will never be mentioned outside these four walls, but we need this venture to go through. And this client is one of our highest bidders. Since all the chains in the area have taken similar hits, our options are greatly limited." He turned to the window, "I realize this is asking a lot of you, but you must go now and do as I say."
Natalia knew there was no more arguing the matter.
"Yes, father." She said through almost clenched teeth and started towards the office door.
"And Natalia?" She stopped but didn't turn around.
"Play nice!"
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Her flight had landed. Olivia had survived her first 'coach' experience since 1989. She couldn't quite guarantee that she hadn't sucked out the souls of a few stewardesses though. And she more than once considered handing a pair of scissors to the annoying five-year-old in front of her and telling him to go run up and down the aisle. But she made it back to land. She had retrieved her luggage and made her way down the escalators to look for a driver carrying her Name Sign. She made quick work of finding her name and headed towards the luxurious Benz limousine.
As she was approaching, the right passenger-side door opened and a long, shapely leg accessorized by a stunning Jimmy Choo sling-back, made its way out of the vehicle.
Okaaay, definitely NOT Mr. Rivera, she mused with a raised eyebrow. But of course not. This heat is sweltering. I would have ordered my lackey outside to help with my luggage also. He must be waiting inside.
She watched the woman step up out of the limo and turn to greet her, brushing long, dark strands of hair behind her shoulder. Olivia noted her pale blue designer skirt suit, cut just above the knees, and the elegant half-sleeve, white, contoured button-down shirt. She contemplated to herself as to whether or not Mr. Rivera was, perhaps, a chauvinist for hiring such admittedly attractive females as waiting staff, or simply a man of impeccable tastes. Either way it mattered not to Olivia, she simply wanted to get out of the heat and into the cool air of the limousine.
"Good Afternoon, Ms. Spencer, allow me to introduce myself…" the well-dressed escort began.
"No need," Olivia cut her off, waving her hand at the seemingly stunned younger woman. "Look, I have already had one helluva day and I doubt that I'll even need to try and remember your name. If you'll just help the driver with my bags and prepare me a cold beverage inside, I shall quickly check my messages and leave word that I have arrived safely with my people back home. Please tell your employer that I am excited to meet him and will be there momentarily."
Olivia finished her rant as the woman stood immobile in front of her, staring. Why is she just standing there? "English not your first language, honey? Today, Please!"
"Of course Ms. Spencer," came the icy reply.
"Thank you!"
Olivia backed away from the limo a few feet and sent a quick text to, well, Mail Room Greg, alerting him that - despite the fact that it was pure torture - her flight had arrived and she would call him in the morning. She made her way back over to the car and allowed the driver to open the door. Upon entering the vehicle, the cool blast of air felt like heaven against her skin. She looked around and immediately noticed two things. One was the very obvious absence of the President of Empire Hotels, and the other was a chilled glass full of clear fluid and three olives resting on the prop-out in front of her seat. Sitting across from her was the young assistant – legs crossed, hands folded neatly in her lap, eyeing Olivia with a seemingly haughty glare.
"I was under the impression that Mr. Rivera was to be meeting me personally."
The woman smiled slowly, though Olivia noticed that her eyes certainly did not share the sentiment of her lips.
"Mr. Rivera regrets that he could not make it here to welcome you himself, but he greatly looks forward to making your acquaintance upon your arrival at the South Beach Empire." Her tone neutral though overly formal, "Allow me to try, once again, to introduce myself."
Leaning forward towards Olivia the brunette extended a steady hand.
"My name is Natalia Rivera. Welcome to California."
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