A volcanic island with a unique diamond shape, Oahu is divided by mountain ranges and surrounded by the Pacific Ocean. It is only in this corner of holiday heaven that traditional compass settings familiar in all other parts of the world differ a great deal. Local custom describes the western tip of the island as "Ewa", the eastern tip as "Diamond Head", the mountains as "Mauka" and the sea as "Makai".
One of its more popular attractions is Kailua Bay. Like all the other parts of Oahu it is a sun soaked spot, facing the blue sea and offers paradise to holiday makers.
It was here that Cathy Dixon stood in the balcony of her hotel suite. Her red hair glistened in the rays of the sun, her eyes stared ahead at the aqua of the ocean while her thoughts scattered miles away.
"Another destination, another hotel and yet another disaster," she muttered.
Sipping her coffee, she glanced at the view that spread before her. The blue of the sea sparkled and was dotted with different types of people, the laughing ones who obviously made the very best of such a location then those who literally took a deep breath, off and on as though reminding themselves they were on holiday. Even children had their own sentiments about being in such a beautiful place.
As Vice President of Communications for MoonStar Hotels & Resorts, Cathy was not on vacation. At twenty-seven, she represented one of the youngest Vice Presidents to be appointed at the hotel chain. She stood just over five feet and five inches. Her average height was complemented with her curvy figure and brown almond shaped eyes, Cathy had gotten used to snarky comments made about her ability to function in her job. Based in Las Vegas at the hotel chain's headquarters, she saw little of her own office there.
A large part of her job scope was to assist "troubled" MoonStar properties and to find solutions to their problems. Alternatively, she made proposals to head office about what needed to be done so the relevant people could be assigned. The key to it all was to ensure that whatever problems a property faced was converted into dollars and cents.
Some properties proved easy. All they needed was a good marketing plan with the appointment of a well qualified Public Relations Manager and Cathy's job was fulfilled. Beyond that point she only needed to vet through the property's monthly reports and offer recommendations via email.
However, some properties did not have public relations problems, they just had public problems. Hence, the other definition of public relations, ‘public rubbish’. Associates who over-promised, General Managers who never delivered and even still, managers who needed managing. With more than 372 properties worldwide, a long list of problems, situations and people awaited her.
People always commented that she had a dream job that anyone would willingly trade. After all, she only had to travel, visit one luxury property after another and tell them what they were missing. That was what people saw on the surface of it. But to her, this nomadic lifestyle was fast becoming a tedious chore. More often than not, the baggage she carried was more than her travelling bags.
Between her personal and work issues, for once, she just wanted to stay put in one place long enough to be familiar with the television schedule. The young executive fingered the blue pendant around her neck knowing full well that as long as it remained there, she was the last person to have a say in her life.
As her thoughts returned to the present, Cathy took a deep breath and left the suite. MoonStar Oahu was one of the hotel chain’s newly built and well-designed properties. It came with twenty eight villas located separately from the main building, thirty apartments housed in a four storey building, two hundred luxury rooms and two Presidential Suites.
All of this was spread over more than one thousand acres of land. It was a recipe for success. However, in the three years the property had operated, eight Public Relations Managers had resigned, three Executive Chefs had walked out and one Human Resources Manager was replaced.
Cathy made her way to the Illima Conference Room where daily morning briefings were held. It never failed to amuse her that everyday between 9:00 a.m. and 11:00 a.m., every hotel in the world had its morning briefing with their respective Heads of Departments. A daily session of guest issues would be discussed, managers ticked off, solutions sorted and proposals made. Most tried to keep it within an hour but when things got exceptionally "heated", it dragged on for hours and hours. When she stepped into the conference room, it was 8:50 a.m.
Already seated, the General Manager cautiously greeted her as he glanced down at the report in front of him. He asked if her room was comfortable and if she needed anything else. Graciously housed in a junior suite, Cathy offered a warm smile and a pleasant "No, thank you."
Taking the seat he pointed to, she continued to size him up. Though the two had not met before, his reputation was well-known. This grey haired, bespectacled man had thirty-two years of hotel experience. Having started as a waiter, he had worked himself up the corporate ladder to General Manager, earning his position. He was also known for his operational skills that saw every property he managed win at least five awards or achieve the highest average room rates, well, except for this one.
Her presence, though welcomed, was regarded as an interruption to him. Cathy was certain of this. He definitely did not want his years of experience to be questioned or challenged by someone decades younger than him. As he handed her the daily summaries of room nights and revenues from the various departments, the door swung open.
A boisterous well-rounded and overly tanned man walked in, followed by a small sized bespectacled man who was fumbling with papers and keys. The younger man whom she came to know as Zach, the property's Outlet Manager gave her a firm handshake and continued to gaze at her chest instead of her face.
The well-rounded man was the Food and Beverage Manager Charlie, who greeted her quickly then engaged in a loud animated conversation about why The Terrace, the property's main restaurant sold only two lobsters when they had been expected to sell at least twenty.
The animated discussion continued. One blamed the waitresses for not up-selling, the other blamed associates at the Front Office for not informing guests upon check-in. Cathy watched, politely smiling while the General Manager looked down at his hands. They were soon joined by the Front Office Manager who was quick to defend his associates explaining they did not have the time to update a guest about food and beverage promotions during check-in. "There is just too much to do," he protested.
Right on cue, the property's Executive Chef walked in. His eyes darted round the room as he tried to make a final decision whether he should stay or make a quick dash for it.
He shrugged at the heated debate and loudly said, "My job is to cook when people order. If anything goes wrong with the preparation then it is my problem. Why people do not order? You lot don't even think of looking at me."
As if to motion for all of them to be quiet, the General Manager held up his right hand. All voices dropped to loud whispers. The conference room soon filled with the rest of the necessary heads of departments for morning briefing. Now, it was a complete circle. At the head of the table, the General Manager sat with Cathy on his right and his secretary on the left. This was followed by the Front Office Manager, Director of Sales and Marketing, Food and Beverage Manager, Outlet Manager, Executive Chef, Human Resources Manager and the Engineering Manager. Only two were locals, another from New York and everyone else from a different country. It was a global melting pot trying hard to churn out one image, a task far easier hoped for than accomplished.
With a firm command that the lobster issue be discussed at the end of the briefing, each Head of Department took their turn to report incidences in their own departments. Security was concerned about the increasing number of outsiders using the hotel's three swimming pools.
Engineering was planning yearly maintenance on the central air conditioning system and needed guest letters placed in every room. Even before Cathy could volunteer, all eyes in the room were already fixed on her as she nodded. The Director of Sales and Mark
eting was convinced they would reach their budget of average room nights for the second quarter but wanted a separate meeting with the Executive Chef to plan out a new room service menu. Human Resources was organising a sexual harassment training program and required all associates to attend it in groups of four.
‘Everything appears normal, proactive even,’ Cathy thought to herself.
In the end, they returned to the topic of the lobsters. The Engineering Manager let out a hearty laugh and a few of the others sighed as Charlie, the Food and Beverage Manager launched full-length into how his department received the least support in the whole property and how they would never be able to achieve higher sales if no one told the guests about their food promotions.
A niggling suspicion made Cathy gently interrupt the tirade and asked, "How does your department inform guests?"
Flabbergasted, he looked at her as if she had lost every single one of her marbles to even consider asking such a question. It seemed obvious, only to him though.
"We put posters everywhere in the hotel," he retorted.
"And ...?!" Cathy prompted.
"What do you mean and? There's no more and, and, and ...," he blustered. "This hotel is so bloody big, it's so expensive to put posters everywhere. There's no more and!"
He was flustered and Cathy could see the pieces falling into place. It wasn’t an issue with the chefs and it definitely was not the serving associates who were at fault. It was the department's Manager, plain and simple. Promotions were not planned. They were executed on the off chance that guests saw the posters and showed up.
There was no word of mouth before the promotion started, no advertisements and no flyers. The ignorant man contained himself strictly within the property when he should have ventured out trying to entice the locals into dropping by as well. As he launched on without commas and full stops much to the amusement of everyone else, the General Manager sighed.
He raised his hand to interrupt Charlie. He firmly prompted those not involved in the "lobster saga" to leave. Of course this meant more than half the room emptied out. The General Manager asked Cathy for a list of promotional tools and ideas they could utilise for future food and beverage promotions.
He also asked if she could spare another hour or so going through some publicity methods with Charlie and his food and beverage team. The General Manager wanted to ensure that food promotions "did not become the world's best kept secrets within his property" to the point no one came to the outlets. With a firm nod Cathy said she would gladly do it.
Of course with someone like Charlie who "knew everything", the meeting stretched into more than just an hour. The man had an absolute problem with listening.
A knock on the door was a welcome interruption as lunchtime neared and her tummy rumbled in hunger. She looked up as she heard her name called and received a thick brown envelope. Cathy's heart sank already knowing its contents. As the food and beverage team rambled on, she opened the envelope making sure all the material faced her alone. Inside was the photograph of a fair head man on his boat at the Oahu jetty, her next target.
KATHMANDU, NEPAL
July 2007
Nepal is home to more than twenty three million people and boasts the motto “Mother and Motherland Greater than Heaven”. Beneath the layers of a country filled with history, culture and passion, one city stands out a little more than the rest. Kathmandu is the capital of Nepal and home to more than one million people. Of all its attractions, the one that has made it most popular is the fact that the Buddha was born in the Kapilvastu District near the Indian border in 563 BC. The incidences that have followed this significant birth include political unrest, power struggles and harsh living conditions for its people. But the country is slowly achieving an economic boom. One of its more popular trades aside from farming, metal casting, wood carving, painting and pottery is the trade of Nepali paper, made from herbal components. The global trade of Pashmina shawls is also an added boost to Kathmandu’s economy. These colourful pieces are said to signify a woman's true beauty when wrapped around her body.
Kathmandu is also a popular tourist destination. Its streets are dotted with guest houses, hotels and eateries. Two popular streets have become increasingly attractive to tourists. Thamel is well known for its popular nightlife and is much newer to the tourist scene than Freak Street which is also known by its local name, Jochen Tole and was made popular in the 1970s.
It was along one of these streets that one would came across the majestic seven storey Kathmandu MoonStar known for its five-star splendour and attracted every passerby. But this was a place, only the wealthy could afford. For most people, this was the kind of property one spent years saving to visit yet found themselves always a few thousand dollars short, just to stay the night. Artistically decorated with various antiques, the lobby was filled with pleasant faced associates of local origin and many foreign guests.
Early on a Monday morning, the breakfast crowd started tumbling out of the elevators into the lobby. Most looked like they could use a few more hours of sleep while others rushed for the breakfast buffet. Behind the reception counter, Cathy was embroiled in a bitter war of words with the property's Front Office Manager.
"You are ruining it for all of us Cat! Every time you show up and head office tells us you are here to solve a problem, you go around creating more problems. Mr. Smith is a good guest to us and he tips us a hell of a lot of money. Stop making a mess of things!" he snarled at her.
Under normal circumstances the Front Office Manager passed off as jolly. A round faced man with spectacles that rested at the tip of his nose, he gave a welcoming smile to each of his guests. He also had the uncanny ability to recognise each guest by name which thrilled many visitors. But at this moment, his face was flushed with anger and he appeared ready to explode.
"Stop making a mess of things?! Are you even listening to yourself speak? And Mr. Smith, my God! Even you know that is not his real name!"
He made a feeble attempt to take a deep breath and appeared more flustered when he shouted back at her, "I do not care if it is his real name! In my job it is all about dollars and cents, you should know this! Room nights count! What a guest does in his room with those room nights is none of my business AND he gives us a lot of room nights. Every few months he comes to stay here for more than a week and in other properties. His employees stay with us too. You are going to put a stop to all of it and you are just being stupid!"
As he lost his temper even further, Cathy watched and tried to keep calm. The urge to strangle him increased the more she talked to him. But right now, more important things were at hand, one of which was getting the key to Mr. Smith's room. Anything less than getting into that room was unacceptable.
“Aaron, listen and listen very hard. I do not care how much money he brings us or you for that matter. Sales will just have to pull their socks up when we do lose him as a guest. What I am more concerned about right now is putting a stop to what is happening. Give me your master key or I will have you reported as well!”
Her lips formed a thin line of determination as she stared him down. He knew it was an argument he could not win but recognised how much he stood to lose if Mr. Smith never returned as a guest. Yes, the hotel salary was good but the tips from Mr. Smith provided luxury items he could ill-afford otherwise.
Grabbing the master key off his desk, Cathy stormed off. The desperate man ran after her and grabbed her by the shoulders.
"You have to stop saving the world, you cannot do it."
She stopped in her tracks and turned to face him. Her disgust was apparent while the rage on her features looked as red as her hair.
"I am not saving the world, just one girl who does not deserve what is being done to her! What if she were your daughter?! What then, Aaron?"
Any further confrontation and Aaron knew their argument would become a physical one. He stepped away from her. He looked down and shrugged, "You know what, do whatever you want. I'm not going to be r
esponsible for your actions. You and the rest of corporate can go to hell for all I care!"
He stormed back into his office and Cathy watched his retreat. She was now even more determined to get into Room 403. From where she stood in the lobby she saw the so-called Mr. Smith with his newspaper and morning coffee at the breakfast bar. This seemed like the only opportunity she had to enter his room, unnoticed. All at once, she wished she had enough money and power to put an end to all of this. If only she could pick the phone and say, "Hey Demi, here is another girl the DNA Foundation can help." But no, she was stuck with offering an escape route with no guarantee of safety.
As she waited for the elevator, she mentally ran through her checklist again. Her friend at the women's centre, already aware of these proceedings, would be at the hotel in about twenty minutes. The centre was always overflowing and above capacity. They were able to immediately provide food and shelter. Medical and counselling resources would take another two weeks. But this was the first step. Cathy stepped into the elevator determined that no one would stop her.
Frequent Traveller (Cathy Dixon #1) Page 2
