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“I sure am. And by the way, I love it here. Alessandra and her team have done a great job getting the business going. I bet you’re really proud of all that’s been accomplished. The Benson has done so well. Are you going to add to your portfolio and buy a few more Strip resorts? I heard a few might be for sale?”
Wyatt’s mouth became tight. He looked down. “Um… Well, I—”
Beau jumped on Wyatt’s indecision. “Wait, things aren’t going as well as I assumed?”
Wyatt sighed. “I guess I can tell you now. It’s not a secret. I met with our board of directors. I told them that unfortunately, I had to recommend selling the resort. Last month, we had an offer from a European gaming company, and the offer was decent. Ultimately, at Holter Holdings, we’re investors. Operating a resort isn’t really in our business model, and our ideal revenue targets were taking longer to reach than we’d hoped. Even so, I wanted to see how the rest of the year played out. Despite Alessandra’s expertise, we didn’t see the increase in value our investors have come to expect.”
“That’s sad,” Beau said. “Understandable, though. What did your majority investors think? Did they agree to sell?”
“They agreed, but they have some concerns—concerns I have, too. I was curious to see what their risk appetite was, because sometimes I can be too conservative. The company who offered doesn’t have the best reputation for compliance in Europe. And this is Nevada, where there’s no room for renegades. We don’t know if the Gaming Control Board would even approve the sale. Plus, the company interested in buying hasn’t operated a major resort before. We don’t want to sell it if this company doesn’t know how to run it. And I have other… personal concerns. Although I think Holter Holdings should sell, this resort is named for my son, as you know.”
“But they decided to sell despite all that?”
“They did. Investing is all about risk and reward. It’s not our problem if they can’t get licensed by Nevada. If they can’t, we’ll just get The Benson back and sell it to someone else. The company buying will have to pay us some penalties, and their desire to purchase will increase the value to other potential buyers. You’re a minority investor, so you’ll make money, too.”
“I’m sorry, Wyatt. Sounds like it was a difficult decision.”
“It was, but it’s for the best. I feel sorry for Alessandra, but she’ll land on her feet. She’s experienced, and she’s highly respected. She’ll get other offers, I’m sure. Speaking of Alessandra, there she is. I need to chat with her briefly about the timing of the transition. Want to join us?”
Beau did want to join, but he was sure Alessandra wanted nothing to do with him. “No thanks, Wyatt. I was able to talk with her earlier in the day. Now I know why she seemed a little down, and I don’t want to bother her. I’m sure she’s upset. Besides, I’m leaving tomorrow morning, so I’m going to head to my room.”
Wyatt shook Beau’s hand. “Sounds good. Thanks, Beau. And come back and visit The Benson again. It will still be a great place with the new owners.”
Beau knew he wouldn’t be back. With Alessandra gone, he wouldn’t want to be reminded of their time together, knowing he’d lost her forever.
Beau decided to order room service for New Year’s Day. While the majority of the hotel customers were sleeping in and most likely hungover, Beau wanted to leave without any attention. He was fairly certain Alessandra wouldn’t be working. He doubted she would want to hang around The Benson too much, given the pending sale.
He felt terrible. For one of the first times in his life, Redman had shared fatherly wisdom that Beau had been thinking about over the past day. It was true Beau had been thinking of Alessandra’s attention as an either-or emotion. Either she wanted him to gamble to help the profits, or she had feelings and sincerely enjoyed spending time with him. It had finally clicked when Redman pointed out that both could be true.
Why hadn’t Beau just asked her how she felt? Because he was afraid, that’s why. He was afraid that if he shared the depth of his emotions with her, she might not feel the same. Alessandra shared she wanted to take a chance on him, but she hadn’t defined what that meant. Now that Beau was over being angry, he wished he’d asked her.
Now it was too late to ask. He’d pissed her off, offended her, and pushed her away. She’d avoided him at the party. He could only imagine how distraught she was knowing The Benson would be sold.
Her career was everything to her, and she’d be focused on rebuilding it and finding another job. He’d love to be around to support her, to comfort her in what was no doubt a difficult time. If only he could take away her hurt. Her happiness was paramount to him.
He loved her. He could admit that now. But what good was it at this point?
There was a knock on the door.Must be room service, Beau thought. When he opened the door, he first saw the silver cart with his meal. Then he looked up and realized that Sailor was pushing it.
“Room service!” she said brightly.
“Why are you here?” Beau asked. “I wouldn’t think room service would be part of your regular job duties.”
“Nope, it’s not. But when one of our priority guests is getting ready to check out, they let me know.”
“Oh. You’re here to comp me out and check me out of my room, then.”
Sailor smiled. “Yes, those things. But that’s not exactly why I’m here in your room. I thought we might have a chat before you leave. Can I sit down?”
Beau was intrigued. He motioned to the dining table in the suite, and they sat. “What’s on your mind?”
Sailor’s face turned solemn. “I wanted to talk to you about Alessandra.”
“Is she okay? What happened?” Beau asked, alarmed.
“She’s fine, in theory. I mean, she’s unhappy about some things.”
“I heard about the resort being sold, very sad. Wyatt gave me the details last night. I’m sure it’s been terrible for Alessandra. I know how much The Benson means to her.”
