Up to Snow Good - Kelly Collins Page 0,5
“You would make a reasonable offer, anyway, so why not let me visit her to see if she’s interested in selling? I mean, the lodge has been struggling, and it doesn’t have much of a future. Maybe she’ll see it as a lucky break—a good time to start fresh somewhere else.”
His father puffed and nodded. “Then, instead of being the bad guy, we’re coming to her rescue, riding in on the white horse and all that.”
“Something like that.” Max hated the sound of it, but at least he was making progress with his father, and that would have to be enough.
“All right, you’ve got a week to persuade her to sell.”
“Two weeks. It’s nearing Christmas, and I need more time.”
The old man shot him a glare.
“Two weeks,” Max repeated before stepping out of the study and into a dreaded conflict that could cost Lauren everything.
Chapter Four
Lauren
Lauren stood in Sam Phelps’s seventh-floor office overlooking Moss Creek and beyond. At this time of year, the town should be white with snow and crowded with tourists—a flurry of business and industry happening below. Instead, the glare of the sun against the winter haze was almost blinding.
Despite the lack of snowfall, the townsfolk had festooned Main Street with the holiday trappings of wreaths and ribbons, garlands and glitter. Christmas songs leaked out of the shops and restaurants, jing-jang-jingled, and wished all a merry little Christmas.
Sadly, Lauren could enjoy none of it. It was more than just the horrific loss of her father, which still left her stunned into emotional exhaustion.
Winter had long since lost its magic, its snowy charm depleted along with the town’s coffers. Instead of the happy and enchanted yearly celebration of her youth, Christmas only seemed to be a haunting reminder of all that had happened, all that she lost, and all that would change.
The upcoming holiday felt like nothing more than a Hallmark holiday suggested by a riveting commercial, but it wasn’t anything to celebrate. It was something to mourn like so many other reminders of her childhood.
Sam looked at his computer screen with a frown while his fingers clacked against the keyboard. He paused and leaned back, sighing as he refocused his eyes on Lauren, who stood on the other side of his desk.
“I don’t know what to tell you.” There was a dip of resignation in his voice.
“You can tell me how to save my home. You’re my accountant, and I’m counting on you.”
“Look, I’m not a magician. The numbers are in charge here. You’re taking your third loss in a year. Your father refinanced the lodge to death. What if you took on a partner? A sponsor, maybe?”
She shook her head. “We’ve already got deals with the local vendors,” she said. “I won’t turn my back on my neighbors to bring in Budweiser and Big Macs. That’s not the way my parents ran things.” She was on a steep learning curve, but screwing her neighbors over wouldn’t garner her support.
He shot her a look over the glasses that balanced on the bridge of his nose. “There’s only you now.”
He was right. The times had changed, and other things would have to change too.
Sam continued, “With the way things are, you’ve got about two months before you have to default on the mortgage. After that, it will only be a matter of time.”
She staggered back like someone had punched her in the gut, leaving her mouth dry and lungs winded. “But it’s my home. It’s my responsibility to make my parents’ memory live on.”
He nodded. “I understand that, and I know this is a hard time, but look at it this way, if you sell now, you might get a little something out of it. Not much, but you’re still young, and you’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”
“The plan was for me to run the lodge,” she said, noting the quiver in her own voice.
After an awkward pause, he said, “Given your experience and your degree in hospitality, you’d be qualified to work in another place—another resort. That might even be fun, working in a place like Hawaii or maybe on a cruise ship.”
“No. My father lived for that property, and he died for it. It’s all I have left of my family. I’ve only just come back home, and I don’t have anywhere else to go. I don’t want to leave because all of my childhood memories are stored in those walls.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. Believe me, if there was anything I could do,