Page 58 of The Last Resort
CHAPTER THIRTY
Wearing a sleeping bag while trying to work was a tough ask, but staying warm was Rachel’s main priority. Matthew on the other hand seemed quite content to get about in his jeans and winter puffer jacket. “Aren’t you cold?” she asked.
“Not really. I’m from NYC so winter is something I’m used to dealing with. Besides, I have a pair of thermal leggings and a fleece base top on under my clothes. You could say I’m quite toasty.”
Damn northerners and their winter gear. She was just glad that her sister had pressed her into going to one of the local ski shops and stocking up on woolen socks. This whole business of surviving the cold was something still so utterly foreign to Rachel. The warmth of Georgia was one of the few things she did miss about home.
They’d worked silently for several hours this morning. Matthew had the blueprints of the resort spread out before him on the table, while Rachel had been reading the various financial reports from the Royal Resorts team. The analytics and financial forecasts made sobering reading.
She couldn’t fault them. The accountants had beenthorough with their modeling. After taking out the startup costs which the refurbished resort would incur in the first couple of years, it was clear that the Royal Resorts Aspen would barely make a profit within five years. No one would want to build a hen house based on those numbers let alone spend many millions renovating an old ski lodge.
There has to be a way we can save this place and still make it viable.
Rachel glanced up from her computer and met Matthew’s worried gaze. “I tried everything I could think of before coming up with my ‘Death Star’.” There was a definite hint of something in his tone. If she’d had to guess, she would have said it was resentment. She and the rest of the gathering at the planning meeting had openly mocked Matthew, made him look a fool. Rachel had come to regret tearing his model apart.
“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you when you said you’d run the numbers. It breaks my heart to think of this old place being torn down.”
“Same here. If you can think of a way where we can have our cake and eat it too, I’m ready to listen.”
Here’s a little something I prepared earlier …
Rachel clicked open her design app, and quickly air dropped a link to Matthew.
“I’ve just sent you a link to the design I was going to show at the council meeting. Having now read your financial reports, I can see how my proposal might not be fully viable. But I still think it’s a good starting point.”
His design had taken him almost two years, and he’d had a team of internal designers at Royal Resorts to bounce his ideas off. Yet in little over a week Rachel had created a whole new design incorporating the old lodge, all on her own. And now she was graciously sharing it with him. Sharing all her design secrets.
I think I’m in the presence of architectural greatness.
Matthew appreciated Rachel’s desire to save this place. She was passionate about preserving its history. And he could see how she had viewed him as nothing more than a greedy developer. But she was wrong. Dead wrong.
That’s not who I am. I have to show her the real me.
After Rachel had gone to bed last night, he’d spent several hours wandering the halls of the grand old resort. The blueprints and a flashlight had taken him to places he hadn’t ventured before. Back in the board room, as he’d flipped through the photo albums, he’d found himself humbled by the expressions of pure joy on people’s faces. This had once been a well-loved resort. Somewhere in the dim and distant past it had fallen out of favor, and people had stopped coming.
How he could get them to come back had always been the big question. He’d thought his ultra-modern glass and steel design was the right answer. Been so sure that it was, if the council had knocked it back, he’d have been in two minds as to whether he would continue or tear up two years’ worth of work and walk away.
Now I’m not so sure. Rachel’s work is world class. But it still doesn’t solve the problem of making this place pay for itself.
“This concept of yours is very clever, Rachel. And I think you’re right, we should use your design as the basis for something new.”
“Do you really mean that, Matthew? You would work with me to incorporate the original lodge into a new design?”
He nodded. “Yes, but I’m beginning to suspect that the full answer lies beyond just the architecture. This place has to have real meaning. And a buzz. Aspen is a destination resort town—we need to give people an amazing experience here so they will keep coming back.”
Skiing and summer hiking wasn’t ever going to be enough.
“We have to come up with an offering for potential guests that they can’t get anywhere else. Or at the very least such an amazing mix of things that people don’t think of anywhere else other than Royal Resorts Aspen when they book their next vacation.”
His father had always wanted to have a US resort in the top one hundred of the global rankings. Jordan’s failed launch in California had been the big miss for the family company. But if he and Rachel could deliver a unique resort, he might still be able to fulfill that dream. His name on a major architectural award, would be something.
Or both our names.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Joe the boiler repairman was nothing short of a miracle worker. He arrived later that afternoon with a new part and within a couple of hours he had both the hot water and the heating restored.
Rachel could have kissed him, but she suspected Matthew would have beaten her to it had he been given half a chance. As it was, Matthew must have shaken Joe’s hand a half dozen times while the poor man attempted to pack up his tools and leave.
