Glynna Kaye – Mountain Country Courtship (страница 9)
“You’re implying that it’s been nothing but a charitable endeavor on behalf of Aunt Viola?” That rankled, as Lillian knew how much of herself Aunt Vi had invested in this place trying to keep it going.
“As you know, my mother was struggling to find her place in the world when your great-aunt befriended her. She offered her encouragement, advice and support when many in town extended little sympathy as her marriage fell apart. My mother was a big-city girl, a fish out of water, and undoubtedly she made plenty of mistakes that didn’t endear her to others.”
“My aunt is a kindhearted woman.”
“She is. And deep down, so is my mother. Which is why when Viola retired and asked if she could take over management of the Pinewood Inn, my mother agreed. She was losing money on it anyway—basically kept it open to irritate my father as much as anything. What would it hurt if her dear friend and mentor gave it a try?”
“Aunt Vi did bring it out of the red.”
“She did. But it’s still not a moneymaker. Never will be.”
“We’re not asking you to strip the place down to the studs and start from scratch. We’re asking that broken things be fixed. Dismal furniture replaced. Peeling wallpaper removed. Bedding and window treatments updated.”
“That involves money, time and hard work.”
“My aunt and I can provide the hard work.” Or at least she could. “I understand your concern surrounding the financial issues. That concerns my aunt, as well. But Hunter Ridge is her home. The inn. Her garden. Her guests. I’ll personally do anything within my power to enable her to live out the rest of her life, however long that may be, as the inn’s manager. For now, this is Taylor’s home, too. If your mother makes the requested much-needed changes to the property, I know my aunt can turn it around.”
He shook his head. “Maybe, if she had a hospitality degree and decades of experience at other reputable properties to bring to the table... I admit I’ve seen highly successful enterprises make it under good management in the most unlikely places. But those were spearheaded by professionals with an innate savvy for the hospitality business.”
“She may not have a degree, but we’ve both read every book on innkeeping we can get our hands on. And growing up, I traveled extensively with my parents and know what they liked and didn’t like about those brief or extended stays. What I liked and didn’t like. Aunt Vi traveled in her younger days, too. I strongly believe that kind of personal experience will transfer well here—if the property itself works for her and not against her, as it’s been doing.”
“I admire her—and your—pluck, but it’s risky. Successful inns are customarily located in areas that have something to draw people there. Location, location, location, as you’ve surely heard before.”
“Hunter Ridge is rousing itself after that economic downturn a decade or so ago. Your mother’s played a role in that—initiating leasing properties to a new artisan dynamic that is taking root and transforming the formerly isolated face of the community. Here at the inn’s garden, we’ve showcased a number of local artists this past summer. It’s a market waiting to be tapped into. And if we don’t do it, someone else will.”
“This garden is a prime selling point. But the inn has only six guest rooms available.” He gave her a regretful look. “I don’t see how that can generate enough return on investment to make it worthwhile.”
“So what you’re trying to tell me is that you’re going to recommend to your mother that she close the inn.”
“What I’m trying to tell you is not to get your hopes up that the inn will ever be much more than it is today—even when we’ve completed the renovations.”
Even when...?
She momentarily closed her eyes, gave a slight shake of her head. “I’m sorry, but I’m confused. You are or you are not going to advise your mother that the inn be closed? That my aunt’s managerial contract should not be renewed?”
* * *
“I’ve expressed to my mother my professional opinion that the doors to the inn should be closed.”
Denny stared into the still-bewildered gaze of the woman standing before him. Saw the hope that had briefly lit her eyes evaporate. She was disappointed in his stance because she truly didn’t understand what it took to run a profitable hospitality establishment.
He hadn’t been toying with her when pointing out the dismal prospects of the inn and the gloomy odds of making a success of it. He’d only wanted her to clearly understand that the endeavor was a waste of money—his mother’s. And a waste of time—his. Who was his stepfather, anyway, to insist on throwing good money after bad, just to make his wife “happy”?
And to keep Denny out of the way to give Vic a boost.
Elden had dangled a vague “make it worth your while” carrot in front of him. Then he topped it off with what sounded like an unspoken threat if Vic didn’t make a go of things in his new position and if that failure, even in part, could be laid at Denny’s doorstep. Like it or not, if he wanted the slimmest chance at a future in a company he’d poured himself into, he’d have to buckle under Elden’s demands.
No matter how much it galled.
No matter how unfair it was.
He’d put too much time into GylesStyle Inns to walk away in a snit. If he could pull this project off...there might yet be a future in the family business.
What did he have to lose?
“I explained to my mother exactly what I’ve explained to you, Lillian. The risk. The unlikelihood of profitability and the preferable route being to shut down the inn.” He cleared his throat and steadily met her gaze. “But, regrettably, she disagrees with me.”
Lillian remained motionless, expressionless except for the growing glow in her lovely eyes.
“You mean—?”
“I mean I’m acquiescing to my mother’s wishes, and despite my personal reservations, the Pinewood Inn will have a second chance.”
A gasp escaped her lips.
“Please recognize,” he continued, “that I’m not reneging on anything I’ve said about the inn. I have misgivings. Extreme ones. Make no mistake—I’m not happy about this. But I love my mother and know she genuinely wants your aunt to continue as manager of the Pinewood Inn as long as her health allows.”
He’d just have preferred not to be blackmailed by his stepfather to give them this chance.
“Why don’t you run that by Vic, Craig? That falls under his jurisdiction now.”
Gazing across the raftered dining room of the Inn at Hunter’s Hideaway, where he’d stepped into the lobby away from lunch with Lillian and Viola to take a call, Denny cringed at the profanity-laced grumbling of his colleague and right-hand man.
“I know, I know. But give him a chance. He hasn’t been sitting on his thumbs all the years he’s been away from GylesStyle. He’s stayed active in the hospitality industry, just outside the family fold.”
Or so Vic’s story went.
With a little encouragement, Denny finally got his colleague pointed in the right direction and off the phone without resorting to the lame excuse that he was busy working on a project for his mother. What he’d wanted to do was provide Craig with the precise answer his friend was seeking. Denny knew it. Would Vic?
This was the first of what would probably be many similar conversations with those in the home office with whom Denny had worked closely.
And it was already killing him.
Back at his table, he again seated himself across from Lillian and her aunt, who were finishing their meal. His, no doubt, was cold. “Sorry. Pressing business. Now, as you were saying, Lillian?”
For a moment he didn’t think she intended to respond. That she was irritated at the latest interruption of which she’d borne a similar brunt on several occasions that day. Then to his relief, she glanced at Viola before continuing.
“You’ve mentioned the need to obtain necessary licensing and permits. Drafting plans and getting estimates. Reinsuring an upgraded property. Aunt Vi and I are wondering when you’ll start that. And what the two of us can do to expedite things.”
He’d explained over lunch what his background was at GylesStyle, hoping that would give them confidence that he knew what he was doing. Being the son of Charlotte Gyles was far from the only thing he was known for.
“I’m going to get in touch with a Phoenix contractor who saw to—” He halted as both Lillian and Viola, solemn-faced, shook their heads. “What?”
“You’re going to bring in an outsider?” Viola’s tone was clearly disapproving.
“A whole crew of outsiders, if they’re available.”
A team he’d worked with in the past had multistate licensing and credentials and would be finishing up a remodel on a GylesStyle Inn in Scottsdale shortly. Maybe he could slip a few weeks into their schedule before they started on their next assignment in Santa Fe. Those guys and gals made some of the HGTV celebs look like amateurs. He needed pros who could get in and get the job done on the Pinewood in record time. Then he’d be free to get back to his real world—assuming Vic didn’t sink his ship.
Lillian exchanged a look with her aunt. “You know, Denny, that might not be a good idea.”