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A smile crossed my lips.
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nbsp; This place had some saving graces, I decided. Besides, I’d done my homework and read up on the history of the resort. The potential was there--this place was one of the most desirable destinations in the mountains at one point in its history. But if I was going to buy it out, it was going to need a complete makeover to be worth bearing the Hawthorne name.
And when I did, it was going to make me a fortune.
All I had to do was gut it.
2
Haley
I sat at my desk with my head in my hands, hoping this pounding headache would pass before anyone came in to see me. This always seemed to happen at the worst possible time. I knew exactly what caused these awful headaches. Stress.
Stress that I couldn’t dig the Peppertree out of the hole it was in. Stress that a mountain of people relayed on me for employment. Stress that I had let my family down.
I groaned when my phone rang.
My voice was a little shaky when I answered, “Haley Simmons.”
“Good afternoon, I’m calling from Colorado Trust to inform you of a prospective buyer of your property, the, um, Peppertree Hotel?”
My heart sank.
“It’s the Peppertree Resort,” I corrected her, then quickly added, “And what do you mean, prospective buyer? I thought I still had two weeks.”
“Yes, ma’am. There is a buyer who is on the way to inspect the property and possibly make an offer,” she interrupted. I could hear the faint sounds of papers being shuffled around, like she was multitasking while talking to me.
“No. No, you can’t be serious,” I protested, standing up. “You don’t have to do this. Not yet. Not now. I-I just need more time, okay? Please. Two weeks is what I thought I negotiated.” I didn’t have it in writing, but a verbal agreement from the local bank manager was always how my father did business. I trusted him.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m reading your file and we have extended your deadline far too many times already. If I may be frank for just a moment, it is in everyone’s best interest for you to relinquish control of the hotel and move on,” she told me, in a tone that was somehow both smug and apologetic.
“It’s not a hotel, it’s a resort,” I muttered through gritted teeth. I could feel tears prickling in my eyes. The bank lady sighed audibly.
“This is a courtesy call to let you know a buyer will be on-site.”
“Wait.” I needed more information before she hung up on me. “Who is it? Who is the buyer?” Maybe I would know them. Maybe I could plead my case to an investor. I had to think of something.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Simmons. I can’t reveal that kind of information. It’s confidential unless the client wants to disclose that information to you personally.”
“So it’s a he?”
“I can’t say.”
I sighed. “I understand.”
“Good luck, Ms. Simmons. Have a great weekend,” she added, and promptly hung up. I stared at the receiver for a moment in shock, then slammed it onto its dock.
How would I have a good weekend? Was she mocking me? I sank into my seat. There was a buyer on the way to inspect Peppertree and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
I had never asked for this responsibility. Hell, I had never even given it a moment’s thought before it happened. It—the moment that irrevocably changed my life.
I had my own life, my own plans. I had a pretty clear vision of what my life would entail, the adventures I would have, the interesting people I would meet when I traveled. I was going to see the world, drifting along from one exotic foreign land to the next without a care in the world beyond what was right in front of me.
And when I was done ricocheting around the globe, when I’d gotten my fill of the open road, I had planned to settle down and have a family. Buy a little house, hang up framed pictures of all the beautiful, mystical places I’d visited, and have a few kids to pass on my love of knowledge and travel to. Build a family around myself to love and cherish for the rest of my life.
That was the dream that hurt the most to bury.
