Her cheeks flush as she bites her lip. “I’m sorry. He can be … intense. I know my connection to him will have no bearing on who you hire.”
Smart answer.
She opens the black case, sliding out several eight-by-ten boards with practiced ease. I lean back, resting my thumb against my chin as she lines them up with a certain focus I can’t help but admire.
A lock of her hair slips forward. She tucks it behind her ear and straightens, those green eyes locking on to mine—brighter than jade, sharper than I expected.
“I studied the hotel’s history here in the city,” she says. “What I designed pulls from its legacy of old Hollywood glamour.”
That catches my attention.
My brows lift. “Go on.”
“The hotel was once a magnet for icons. Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, Marilyn Monroe. It wasn’t just a place to stay; it was a place to be seen. When I think of those names, I think timeless… indulgent.”
She gets it.
My father used to brag about that era. The restaurant here was known for its Michelin-starred chef. A live band played every night. The atmosphere had a heartbeat. It was magic.
Somewhere along the way, we lost that.
“Glamour today is different. I want to bring two worlds together—the beauty and charm of the 1950s with the elegance and simplicity of today.”
“And how would you do that?” I ask.
She places the first board down in front of me. “It starts with the color palette. White and cream help keep things neutral. We’ll use those on the walls but bring in contrast with rich woodmoldings—like what was used in the ’50s. It softens the space while grounding it.”
I think about the carpet in our current entryway. It nods to old-world glamour, sure, but by today’s standards, it feels heavy. Dated. This? This feels intentional.
She continues, “I’m imagining a gold statement chandelier with cut crystals in the lobby. Something dramatic that immediately sets the tone. Gold will be the anchor color, placed where it counts, but never overpowering. Sapphire blue will be the subtle accent, threading through the design in furniture and decor.”
The colors work.
I glance down at the board again. “I’m still having a hard time visualizing the full picture.”
She offers a small smile and slides over another board. “This is a mock-up of the lobby layout.”
It’s impressive. I can already see the direction taking shape—elegance, balance, vision.
“The white walls will have moldings a foot wide to create a sense of grandness. There will be white ceiling tiles with intricate carvings. Hanging from those will be a gold chandelier, layered with long crystals, tiered in three sections, each one slightly longer than the last. It’ll cast light across the entire lobby. And the contrast with the dark wood floors?” She taps the photo. “It’s striking. Warm but still clean.”
She’s right. It’s not just beautiful; it’s cohesive. Everything works.
“What about this design makes it feel like the old-world glamour you mentioned?” I ask.
She picks up her final board and slides it forward. “It’s all in the details. Vintage-style couches. Accent chairs in deep velvets. Gold and glass coffee and side tables. And the materials? Rich. Expensive. Intentional. It’s not just about copying the old; it’s about capturing the feeling of it. You’re not just stepping into a hotel. You’re stepping into a moment. Something unforgettable.”
I place the third board off to my right and look at all three. A tinge of excitement runs through me as I picture my hotels looking like she just described. Like what is in front of me right now.
The idea of traveling back in time to such a great era but somehow still making it feel simple is perfect.
It’s exactly what we need. Sebastian’s design got the simplicity right, but this is what it’s missing. It’s missing personality. Something that will set it apart from everyone else.
“This is a very good concept. I do like the idea and how you brought it all together. I do have a couple of questions.”
She nods her head slightly. “Okay.”
“When exactly are you ready to get to work on these? I know you haven’t moved to the city just yet.”