“Brady’s in Ireland.”
“Yep,” Sean said, then added, “ain’t technology great? You do remember the meeting we had over webcam? The one where we all decided who would do which hotel?”
“I remember.”
“Good. Because Jenny’s in her office right now, working on the designs for the River Haunt hotel.” Sean met his brother’s gaze. “She’s already coming up with some great stuff. If we switch designers at this stage, it’s going to slow down everything. Besides, Jenny’s good. She earned this.”
Mike scowled and bit back any further argument because it just wouldn’t do any good. Sean was right: the plans had been made. He couldn’t change them now. All of the artists for the company had already been assigned their work schedules. Most of them were finishing up the graphics for the next game to be released in the coming summer. So Jenny was the only logical choice.
Didn’t mean he had to like it.
But there were deadlines to meet and no one knew that better than Mike. He, his brother and their friend Brady Finn had begun this gaming company when they were still in college. Their first game had been short on art and long on mystery and action. It had taken off faster than any of them had hoped and by the time they graduated from college, they were all millionaires.
They’d plowed their money back into the company they called Celtic Knot and within six months had released a bigger, more sophisticated game. They built a reputation for action games based on ancient Irish legends and superstitions, and their fan base swelled.
They’d bought this old Victorian in Long Beach, California, as their home base and hired the very best computer programmers, and digital and graphic artists.
They’d won awards and had legions of fans waiting for the release of their next game. And now, they were growing in another direction.
They were buying three hotels and revamping them into perfect role-playing venues for guests. Each hotel would be modeled after one of their top-selling games. The first, Fate Castle, was in Ireland. The modifications had just recently been completed and the hotel would be open and welcoming guests in March. The second, River Haunt, was in Nevada on the Colorado River and was just waiting for Mike to step up and get the renovations moving forward.
But how the hell could he do that while working one-on-one with Jenny Marshall? Answer: he couldn’t. But he wasn’t prepared to go into all of the reasons why with Sean. Instead, he’d simply go to Jenny. Convince her to back off this project. She was probably in no more hurry to work with him than he was with her. If she went to Sean herself and asked to be replaced, there wouldn’t be a problem. Mike would offer her a raise. Or a bonus. A woman like her would jump at a chance for that—and he’d be able to get on with the hotel transformation.
“Meantime,” Sean said, loudly enough to snap Mike’s attention back to the moment, “I’m still talking to the toy company about the line of collectibles they’re proposing based on our gaming characters.”
“What do the lawyers say?” Mike asked.
“Plenty,” Sean admitted. “And most of it I can’t understand. I swear they teach these people to speak in tongues when they’re in law school.”
“Agreed. How much did you get out of it?”
Sean crossed his legs, ankle on knee. “Enough to know that if they up their offer on the licensing fee, this could be a really good thing for us.”
“I don’t know... Toys?”
“Not toys. Collectibles,” Sean corrected. “I called Brady this morning and he’s on board. So think about this, Mike. At the next gaming convention we not only have the games to push, but the collectibles. We can spin that off to board games even, for people not interested in video games.”
Mike laughed shortly and leaned back in his chair. “There aren’t many people uninterested in games.”
“Okay, true. But we’re pushing into the hotel industry, giving people a chance to live their favorite games. We could take that another step,” Sean said, slapping one hand down on Mike’s desk. “We can sponsor our own conventions.”
“What?” Surprised, Mike just stared at him.
Sean grinned. “Think about it. Hell, Comic-Con started out small and look at them now. We could hold Celtic Knot Con—an entire convention centered around our games and products. We can host tournaments, offer prizes. Costume contests. Hell, we could run a contest offering a contract to whoever comes up with the best new beast to use in one of our games.”
“Did you go surfing this morning?”
Sean stopped. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“That water’s cold, probably froze a few brain cells.”
“Funny.”
“Don’t you think we’ve got enough going on right now? The latest game came out in December, and the sequel to ‘Fate Castle’ hits this summer, not to mention the hotel business.”
“Okay, we’re busy,” Sean allowed. “We want to stay busy, we have to keep thinking, expanding. Our business is based on the fans. On the way they feel connected to the scenarios we create. If we give them more, offer them other ways to connect, to feel a part of the world they love, that can only benefit us.”
Mike thought about it for a minute. He could see the enthusiasm on his brother’s face and knew that Sean was at least partly right. Continuing to build their brand would only solidify their position in the marketplace. The castle hotel in Ireland already had a waiting list six months long and they hadn’t even opened yet. That told Mike there was a huge market for just what Sean was describing. And little brother was right about something else, too.
“We’ll talk to Brady about your convention idea—that may be a good way to go.”
“Whoa.” Sean grinned. “This is a moment. Maybe I should hunt up a photographer.”
Mike laughed. “Okay, fine. I think you’re onto something. On the collectibles, I’m on board. Tell the lawyers to work up the company’s licensing offer and then we’ll sign.”
“Already did,” Sean said.
“Sure of yourself, weren’t you?”
“Damn right.”
Amused, Mike said, “Okay, well, you’re right about the other stuff, too. The role-playing, the contests. Ireland’s too hard for a lot of people to get to. The grounds on the hotel in Nevada aren’t big enough for us to hold tournaments on any kind of real scale. So the hotel in Wyoming will have to be the base for that kind of growth.”
“Just what I was thinking,” Sean said. “It’s on a hundred and fifty acres, with lakes and forests. It’s perfect for the kind of thing I’m talking about.”
“Then it’s handy you’re in charge of that one, isn’t it?”
“Also what I was thinking,” Sean said with a quick, smug smile.
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