Page 126 of As a Last Resort
I knew I wasn’t going to chase her to New York City.
And I was tired of doing what everyone else thought I should do.
Did I want to be with her?Yes, more than anything.But not more than my own happiness.Not more than hers.
It wasn’t that I would never move to New York.I’d do it in a heartbeat if I thought that’s what would make her and me happy.But I know how that works, when one person gives up themselves completely.Vanessa chose to stay for me when in her heart, she knew she wouldn’t be happy here.It only forced her to resent me.
I wouldn’t set Sam and me up for that same fate.
Life was short.I was tired of playing things safe.Even though my heart still felt shattered into a million pieces, I wouldn’t trade the last few weeks for anything.
I took Mabel’s advice and started asking questions.Why couldn’t I do what I wanted to do?Why couldn’t I manage the ferry business, let Patrick run the actual boat with a dependable crew, and focus on what I’ve wanted to do since I was five years old?I didn’t need Harold to hand me his business.I could build it from the ground up.I knew enough people, and I sure knew enough about the business.
The waves lapped against the dock.I ran my hands down my face and rubbed my eyes.
If I went down this new path, could it fail?Yes.Would it hurt?Absolutely.But it couldn’t be worse than how I already felt.
There was one thing I could do that absolutely terrified me, but excited me more.Nothing cured a broken heart better than a little bit of salt water.
ME:Deal.
38
SAMANTHA
Twelve identical suits stared at me from around the conference room table.Funny how picturing people naked never helped me with anxiety, especially when they’re men over the age of sixty.
I’d been able to make it through most of the presentation without looking directly at Glenn, who was still a bright shade of red, probably wondering how in the hell ten minutes of the board’s valuable time had been allocated to me when he saw the agenda.
“This town isn’t unlike many beach towns across the nation,” I continued.“It values the small-town feel—the mom-and-pop stores that have been there for decades and handed down through generations.They have neighborhood general stores where you buy a pair of flip-flops for five dollars, a gallon of milk, and Children’s Tylenol, all at the same time.It’s the kind of place where the ice cream shop still makes their ice cream from scratch every single morning, and gives customers two scoops when they only ordered one.
“It isn’t about money and margins and headcount.Although trust me, those are very important numbers to the success of this development, and I’m well aware of that.But it’s an experience economy.People call you by your first name in these towns because theyknowyou.You feel seen, loved, valued.These towns are built with the people as the foundation.The outpouring of thatis loyalty and adoration, which translates into treasured memories and repeat guests.
“What you’ve seen presented here today are my ideas to not only create a development that’s profitable and will draw attention from around the world, but one that’s cherished by the people, both those who visit, and those who call it home.”
My throat caught just a bit at that last word.Home.For so many years Rock Island was a place that held all of my pain.Every memory of my dad, every painful interaction with my mom, the looks and stares from all the people who pitied my situation.
But it had also been the place where I opened gifts on Christmas mornings as a toddler.Where I learned to ride my bike.Where I went door to door and said “trick or treat” and ate so much candy every Halloween night I’d throw up.
All these memories shaped who I was.They formed me, both good and bad.Both joyful moments and ones full of heart wrenching pain.The more I wanted to push it down, the more it stung the back of my throat.
The islandwashome.It had always been.
“Lodging.What does it look like?”A man at the other end of the table leaned back in his chair.He had a full head of silver hair and looked like a heavy Richard Gere.And there were little pink flamingos all over his navy tie.
“I was envisioning dotting the coastline with upscale cottages and a few bed-and-breakfast-type buildings,” I responded.“In the current financials you see, I incorporated a few buildings that are more conducive to larger groups but think more along the lines of long porches with communal gathering, group nature walks, and golf cart rides, versus Disney and roller coasters.”
A skinny guy piped in, crossing his arms across his chest.“Usingcottages versus hotels?Our potential occupancy capacity rate would be shot.”
Another picked up the thought.“We’d shrink our main revenue source.And what about all the other revenue lines—food and beverage, all the ancillaries that are built in?”
Glenn shifted in his seat.“Samantha’s our little dreamer.Always has her head in the clouds.”I knew they’d all pile on and he’d take this opportunity to come save the day and somehow find a way to slice my intelligence.“But we can’t continue to build a multimillion-dollar company on cottages.We need something larger to sink our teeth into.You’re not in the right headspace for this type of work.”
“I agree.”The skinny old guy tacked on.“This isn’t even close to our portfolio of work.”
“I realize it’s a bit of a different approa—”
“Samantha,” Glenn cut me off.“He’s right.While I appreciate your creativity, we’re in the business of making money.We’d be drastically cutting our revenue stream by decreasing the amount of people a development like this can accommodate.Speaking of, let’s move on to an idea that will make us money.Robby, why don’t you take it from here?”
