The Last Paradise, page 13
Grace was nervous. She’d put so much effort into this pitch. She really wanted this job and she knew she could do it well, though she also knew that was no guarantee of success. But nothing ventured, nothing gained, she told herself, and, taking a deep breath, she launched in.
She began by going through the strategies she was planning to employ, and how they would influence the creative plans she had in mind. The centrepiece of her concept was to release video segments and filmed vignettes through social media every week or so to attract potential clients to make bookings well in advance of the hotel’s launch. Using the techniques of storytelling, the short films would illustrate the hotel itself, its setting and staff, things to do, highlights of the local area and other amazing places around Bali. She felt her knees quiver as the faces around the table remained immobile, giving away nothing. A ripple of doubt ran through her but she pressed on, and when no one challenged her ideas, and her strategies seemed to be accepted, her confidence began to rise.
But as she came to the video presentation her heart was in her mouth. She knew that if they didn’t like this, she was in trouble. She dimmed the lights, creating a sense of drama and flair for this crucial portion of the presentation, and the room went quiet as she started the video. Action burst onto the huge screen.
Steve had warned her that typically Chinese businesspeople were difficult to present to, and so she was prepared for a low-key reaction. When the video ended, the room was silent.
Then, from the head of the table, Mr Pangisar Senior spoke. ‘Play it again, please, Ms Hagen.’ His tone was noncommittal. As she hit the icon again, the lead weight in the pit of her stomach grew heavier.
But this time around there was a rumble of mutterings, and Grace sensed her audience was appreciative. There was even the odd ‘Ooh’ and ‘Aah’. Then she heard Johnny’s excited whispering and saw him leaning towards his father. As she brought the lights back up at the end of the ninety-second video, she saw, with relief, smiling, excited expressions. There was even a smattering of applause – a rare event at presentations such as these, she guessed. She allowed herself to hope.
Grace started in on the last part of her presentation: the financials. She had always feared that perhaps the budget she was requesting would be too high. As she was about to run through the figures on the screen, Mr Pangisar Senior interrupted her and asked a question about the editing technique of the video. As she started to answer, Grace was suddenly shocked when Johnny reached over and slid her financial notes away from her, pushing them instead in front of Farrouk Eljoffrey, saying, ‘Just give this to MGI’s CFO and make it work, will you? The family have no problems.’
Her heart lifting, Grace continued addressing Mr Pangisar Senior, briefly explaining the video technique as a combination of real footage, CGI and special effects. He nodded and then smiled.
‘Please forgive my reserved reaction initially. To show no emotion is the old Chinese way, as my father taught me. Times change and Jonathon, of course, does not agree. Regardless, I feel this will be a very good campaign for us. Thank you, Grace, and welcome on board. Let’s get this done.’
As the group broke into applause and smiles and nods, Grace let out her breath in relief and said, ‘Thank you, Mr Pangisar. I am delighted to be a part of the project.’ She began to gather her papers together with slightly shaking hands.
This was a huge step. She wished she felt as confident as she sounded. While she’d got the gig, she now had to pull it off. Thoughts of the job and all it entailed brought with them the problem of Lawrence and the separation, and moving to Bali with Daisy for possibly an extended period of time. But she put them aside for the moment: the night ahead would be a celebration of all her hard work, as far as Grace was concerned.
Before she changed and headed out to dinner, she had just enough time to dash off an email to Spencer at the agency telling him the good news. He’d been emailing constantly over the past week, insisting she keep him updated. Put that in your pipe and smoke it! she thought.
The dinner was held at the elegant Odette restaurant in the National Gallery building, in a private space with personal supervision from chef Julien Royer. Grace was glad she’d bought a new outfit for the occasion: fitted silk pants, stilettos that would likely rarely see the light of day again, a lace top and loose matching silk jacket, all in the palest of apple green.
Johnny Pangisar acted as host, making sure the Dom Perignon flowed and the mood was upbeat. Grace, seated between Farrouk Eljoffrey and Madame Pearl, as the others called her, was very conscious that she was playing in the big league. Johnny paid Madame Pearl particular attention, his manner hovering between solicitous and flirtatious, although only once did he elicit a partial smile from the older woman. Watching this handsome hotshot, Grace couldn’t help but admire the easy style of a man she knew to be a shrewd operator, one who knew just who held the aces and who could be useful to his family business.
When everyone had arrived, Johnny welcomed them, and then handed over to Farrouk Eljoffrey, who rose and thanked everyone, giving a nod to Madame Pearl. He went on to say that this was an exciting and auspicious time for everyone present. He gestured to Grace, welcoming her to ‘the world of the Kamasan’ and adding that they were excited now that their dream had found its path to reality, thanks to The Carson Agency, especially Ms Grace Hagen and her team’s creative inspiration. He lifted his glass and the waiters stepped forward to pour more Dom Perignon as he proposed a toast to ‘Paradise. The last paradise and the most magnificent paradise in Bali – to the Kamasan!’
Grace raised her glass and accepted the accolade with a smile. When the toast was over and everyone had gone back to chatting, Grace noticed that opposite her, Rosie and the marketing manager Hans Speyer were deep in a conversation about music trends and hot DJs. Johnny overheard a remark and leaned forward.
‘Have you heard Mr AJ? The DJ du jour? You must come with us to Marquee after dinner, we’ve booked a table. You’ll come too, Grace?’ Johnny turned his smile on her.
‘Okay. Lovely.’ She knew of the latest clubs in Sydney but nothing compared with what she’d heard about Singapore’s fabulous new club.
Limousines delivered them to the Marina Bay Sands, and walking into Marquee, Grace was taken aback at how slick, glitzy and classy it was. And costly! She overheard one of the executives mention that the table had cost $40,000 to book. Shaking her head in disbelief, Grace caught a glimpse of the star DJ on a dais prepping for his set.
She studied the spacious open-plan, three-storey wonderland, with dizzying tube slides between floors that would have sent Daisy into a spin, and gasped at the full-sized, fluoro-lit ferris wheel! Its cabins also turned out to be photo booths to record the experience.
The cleverly designed dance area meant there was plenty of space for people to show off their moves. There were pockets of comfortable leather banquettes, island tables and a massive decorative peacock that overlooked a long bar. Comfortable lounge seats had space for at least forty people, and a bar was strategically placed at all corners of the club so there were no long waits for the super-stylish drinks. At least two dozen waiters worked the club, too. Grace took mental notes to pass on to Andy: here was a venue doing everything in an exciting way.
‘Woah!’ Grace watched as the immersive sound and 8K-resolution screens flashed to life.
Johnny was jigging up and down. ‘This technology won’t be available in your home for at least five years,’ he enthused loudly.
‘Not in my house! It’s ear-splitting!’ she shouted back, laughing.
Rosie came up to join them. ‘Wow, they’ve done a good job. Crazy Rich Asians meets The Great Gatsby!’
As the others were ushered to their reserved banquette, Johnny held out his hand. ‘Come on, Grace, let’s do it!’ he said, and pulled her onto the dance floor.
The rest of the evening hurtled past like an out-of-control meteor, as she later described it to Melanie. Mr AJ was like a magician, controlling them all as he punched buttons and switches, and lighting effects, more like fireworks, exploded and zoomed around the room, punctuating the throbbing music. At one time, Johnny clasped Grace to his damp silk shirt, his sinewy body pressed against her, before spinning them apart. For a moment Grace thought about letting her inhibitions go and flirting right back at him . . . No. What was she thinking? This was the biggest project of her life. She had to keep a cool head. Nevertheless, as she moved to the throb of the music, she felt the years slipping away, as though she were peeling Lawrence away from her life and she was a free spirit again.
‘Just how out of control were you?’ asked Melanie on FaceTime the next morning as Grace drank her breakfast coffee before getting ready to fly home.
‘I wasn’t, really, it was just so nice to let my hair down properly. Wait till you see what the club was like – I’ll send you and Mum some pics,’ Grace replied.
‘Great. I’m glad this is all working out so well for you. It’s come at just the right time, hasn’t it? Bali could be really good fun.’
‘It’s also going to be hard work. I have to get all the paperwork in order. Thankfully MGI are sorting out my KITAS, the work permit that’s good for six months. They’ll help me find accommodation too. I don’t want to live in a hotel no matter how plush. And I need to find a school for Daisy.’
‘And they’ll pay for it all, I hope,’ said Melanie. ‘What does your lawyer have to say?’
‘Last time we met he said to take it a step at a time. Well, it’s time for the next step! So I’ll see him when I get back. I’d forgotten what it’s like to be free, have a bit of fun, to have a challenge – in a good way – with my job.’
‘Well, don’t let Lawrence know any of this! He’ll deliberately throw a spanner in the works, knowing him. Frankly I think he’ll be jealous that you’re so stunning at what you do.’
‘I know. But at the same time, I don’t think I can just take Daisy out of the country without telling him: he is her father, and I’d be furious if he did that to me. I just have to hope he doesn’t make a fuss. He can’t exactly look after her while he’s in India, anyway. No doubt he’s busy greasing palms and wheeling and dealing.’ Grace heard Melanie’s snort of derision down the line. ‘Hey, let’s catch up when I get home, I’ve got to head to the airport now,’ said Grace. ‘See ya, Mel.’
*
The minute Grace walked in the door, Daisy ran and clung to her.
‘Mumma, Mumma. Come and see, quick.’ She tugged at Grace’s hand as Grace smiled at Tina, giving her a quick hug. Then Daisy dragged Grace to her bedroom. ‘I did it all myself!’
Grace clapped her hands to her face when she saw her bedroom as Daisy danced around her. ‘Oh, wow! This is gorgeous, darling!’
‘See, see. Surprise, Mumma!’
Grace ooh’d and aah’d at the drawings and decorations Daisy had painstakingly made and hung up all around the room. A drawing of roses, carefully coloured in, was on her pillow.
‘We couldn’t find real roses, Mummy, but you can keep these ones forever and ever!’
Grace kissed her daughter and hugged her fiercely: she would never let Lawrence take her away. ‘I certainly will. Much better than real roses. So, tell me, what else have you been doing?’
‘Reading! Nana is teaching me new words. I can read my book to you, tonight!’
‘Great idea.’
Sitting at the kitchen table with a pot of tea, Grace brought out the gifts she’d brought home for her mother and daughter. This time it was their turn to ooh and aah. Daisy opened a hot pink box and took out a small red handbag, perfect for her little hands. Tina’s present was a golden silk shawl that she immediately draped over her shoulder.
‘The shopping in Singapore is incredible; there are towers, palaces of shops. I only shopped around the hotel, had no time for anything else. But a serious shopaholic would be in heaven.’
‘Is everyone still very status conscious, label and brand oriented?’ asked Tina.
‘Absolutely. No fakes for Singaporean shoppers. I even saw people rub a business card when they exchanged them. If it was embossed and good quality, I’m sure it went in a special pocket,’ Grace laughed. ‘So, Mum, any news?’
‘Not really. Not a peep from Lawrence, you’ll be glad to know.’ Tina smiled at her reassuringly. ‘So, what next? Will you now assemble your team?’
‘Yes, we start preparations in earnest now. That reminds me, I must ring Steve and fill him in. I sent him a text when I knew the job was a done deal; I think he’s pretty keen to get started.’
‘It’s a big project, pays well. No wonder.’
‘Hmm, I think it’s more than that. I feel the same way. Yes, it’s a huge project, but it’s selling it in a way that’s really special that matters. We have to highlight the hotel’s originality and difference in a show-stopping way . . . I’ll have my work cut out, but I have lots of ideas of how to bring it all together. And you know the book Andy gave me? I think it might turn out to be really useful: I can’t wait for K’tut to arrive in Indonesia and hear about what it was like back then.’
‘You and me both.’ Tina laughed.
*
Grace was now in a whirlwind of preparations to head off to Bali, bouncing between meetings or calls with the agency and with Mr Judd and Mr Jamison. She had a brief discussion with Steve, who had cleared the decks and was getting his crew together for the Kamasan project.
Her biggest worry was money. When she’d rung Mr Jamison, he’d said nothing had happened with the insurance claim as far he knew, which he thought was unusual. He promised to make some follow-up calls and get back to Grace as soon as possible.
He rang back the following day to report his findings. After the call, Grace walked into the kitchen as Tina was unloading the dishwasher. Tina glanced up at her daughter and her face fell when she saw Grace’s expression.
‘What’s up?’ she asked in alarm.
‘Mr Jamison just rang about the insurance money from the house. It’s been paid.’
‘What? Well, phew, that’s a relief then. Isn’t it?’ Tina stared at Grace.
‘It was paid two weeks ago. Lawrence hasn’t said a word – and he must have told them not to tell Mr Jamison either – and there’s nothing in my account, even though Mr Jamison had given the broker my account details.’
‘Surely they can’t have just paid it all to Lawrence, when they had your details too. They shouldn’t just do whatever Lawrence tells them!’ exclaimed Tina.
‘Yes, that’s what I said. Mr Jamison said it might have something to do with that wretched, mysterious trust document. He still hasn’t been able to get a copy of it, but he said it’s possible that a document like that might give Lawrence that kind of power.’
‘Well, you get on the phone and demand to know where your share is. You need that money, Gracie. And what about your jewellery? Did Lawrence claim for it?’ Tina closed the dishwasher and leaned against the kitchen bench. ‘Is Lawrence in the country?’
‘He’s still in India, from what I can gather. I’ll send him a text, and ask him about putting some money in my account. Maybe they mailed a cheque and it’s slow. Possibly this is all a misunderstanding.’ Even as she said it, she knew there was no way this was a simple mistake.
‘Have you told him about the Bali job yet? And taking Daisy with you?’ asked Tina gently.
‘I spoke to Mr Judd yesterday and his advice is that I’ll have to tell him, as I thought. I don’t want it to look like I’m kidnapping Daisy! I’ll gather as much information as I can about the job, accommodation, schools, nannies, et cetera, to prove that Daisy is going to be well looked after. Lawrence doesn’t even have a home – isn’t even in the country! – so I don’t see how he could think Daisy would be better off with him. He’ll have some time to think about it while I go to Bali ahead of Daisy to get settled. It’s only fair.’
‘What about formal court orders? What did Mr Judd say?’
‘I’m hoping to avoid having to go through the courts. Mr Judd said that if there are no court orders in place, I’m not breaking any orders or laws by taking her. But I don’t want to be seen as trying to prevent Lawrence seeing her: if it did get to court, the court wouldn’t like that, it doesn’t look good. But I don’t see how he can argue that if he’s in India anyway, and if I tell him about it well in advance and show that she’s looked after.’ Grace sighed.
‘What if Lawrence objects?’ asked Tina.
‘There is a chance that he could make an urgent application to stop it: force me to deliver her passport to the court, that sort of thing. I just have to hope that he’s too busy in India and doesn’t try. I won’t stoop to his level and try to hide things from him.’
‘The court process sounds like a nightmare,’ said Tina.
‘Absolutely,’ Grace agreed. ‘Mr Judd explained it to me last time. What a palaver it all is. It could drag on for months! It could take six to eight weeks each time to get into private mediation. Public mediation would take much longer. And then getting into court, even for a hearing, is likely to take months after that. I need that insurance money! Not just for the lawyers, but for day-to-day living.’
‘What about the job?’ Tina asked. ‘I suppose you don’t get paid till the job is done?’
‘More or less. They give me a debit card to cover living expenses and travel, and then the agency is paid after each tranche of the campaign is finished. It’s a kind of package deal.’
‘Would Lawrence agree to mediation? He’s doesn’t seem one to compromise and, well, mediate. He’s a “his way or the highway” sort of a guy.’
‘I know. Mr Judd agreed and was pretty blunt. Said I’d feel as though it is resolved or almost sorted, and then he’ll raise something else. I can look forward to this pattern in a never-ending, heartbreaking loop.’ Grace’s shoulders slumped.
