Page 67 of Wrong Room, Right Billionaire

“My parents are indifferent. They’ve always been a little busy with their own lives. They both work in real estate and are basically never home. They hardly even see each other,” I answer.

“Siblings?” Morgan asks, and I find it curious that he is taking such an interest in my life story. Unless it’s just to preoccupy him from thinking about being seven miles in the air, which is entirely possible. Either way, I don’t mind.

“I have a sister.”

“Older or younger?”

“Older. Claire. She’s a mom, a wife, an English teacher…” I rattle off.

“So you both love to write,” he concludes.

“Sort of. She went to school, graduated, and checked all the boxes. I started school, dropped out, got a passport and a tablet. People thought I was crazy. You probably think I’m crazy,” I giggle, but Morgan just casually shakes his head.

“Not really.”

“No?” I ask. “The man who doesn’t even like leaving his office doesn’t think I’m nuts for trading in a diploma and the possibility of a 401k to see the world?”

“My parents, the founders of all of this, loved to travel. I spent my entire childhood traveling,” he says. And I guess that would make sense.

“Did you love it?” I ask. “That must have been an amazing experience for you and Conrad.”

“It was alright.” He shrugs. “It was fun at times and exhausting at others. While I got to spend a lot of time at beaches and in museums, and at cool hotels, I also spent a lot of time in airport lobbies and on buses and trains. Not the best way to grow up, honestly.”

My stomach dips at that. I hadn’t thought about that. About the children of the owners of Bale Resorts growing up that way. Or about the fact that the small person inside me is destined for the same life if I don’t change my life path completely.

If he didn’t enjoy it as a kid, I doubt he’d want it for his own kids.

* * *

We arrive in Maui and it’s like San Diego on steroids. The water is crystal clear; the sun is bright; the air is fresh, and everything smells like flowers. Maybe because they put leis on us the second we dismounted the plane, something I obviously had to get a photo of for the blog. But either way, it’s exactly what I hoped and dreamed it would be. I’ve been to tropical islands before, but not many, and not Maui. This is a bucket list item for sure.

If I had my freaking bucket list.

The Oceana is everything I imagined as well. A sky high building in the shape of a half-moon with an archipelago of pools in the arch and, of course, a private beach.

As we walk through the sliding doors, the lobby emits a cool breath that smells like fresh flowers. We are met with smiles by people in linen dresses and floral casual button-downs. But we are also met with problems.

Morgan wants to get right to business, and that business begins with inspection. Cleanliness, customer ratings, occupancy, pool temperatures, and restaurant satisfaction. The latter poses some issues, and Morgan sets up an immediate meeting with the management and Donovan. To my surprise, he wants me there too.

“You can’t tell it like it is and show me improving things if you don’t see what’s behind the curtains,” he tells me

And these curtains seem to be hiding a lot.

“People aren’t eating here,” the manager says. “Not like they used to.”

Hannah is a thin woman with tattoos and short hair, and a sharp, no-nonsense jawline. She gives off the same air as Catherine Zeta-Jones in the movie No Reservations. Like she demands perfection, but everyone around her is failing her.

“And why is that?” Morgan asks. “Why aren’t guests of the Oceana eating at the five-star restaurant inside it?”

“Honestly, the Tide and Torch is not the problem. The staff isn’t the problem. The menu isn’t even the problem. It’s the food itself,” she answers, and our brows collectively furrow.

“Are the cooks not up to par?” I ask.

“The cooks are doing their best,” she answers. “Myself included. The problem is the food isn’t fresh.”

That statement sends Morgan’s eyebrows to his hairline. “I’m sorry. The food isn’t fresh?” he echoes in disbelief. “How can that be? We’re on an island. The best food in the world is everywhere.”

“True,” she says.