Chapter 9 #2
“I first came across Pine Falls in a documentary and instantly fell in love with the place. As I learned more about the town—its values and its people—my appreciation only grew stronger. And the more I discovered, the more I realized that your economic environment is missing a vital element.” I clear my throat, scanning the blank faces in the audience.
“You see,” I go on, keeping my tone upbeat, “whether you like it or not, you’re the gateway to wilderness tourism.
Every year, thousands of people stop in Pine Falls before beginning their epic journey away from their modern lives.
But every year, it’s the same story. The streets and shops are too crowded, too crammed.
You’re suffocating. It’s obvious that your blind spot is your lack of infrastructure to accommodate the influx that takes over your town each season. ”
I pause, taking in the now inquisitive looks. I’ve piqued their curiosity, related to their issue, and empathized with their needs. I’ve got this in the bag.
“What I’m offering isn’t just a way to handle your problem.
It’s an experience. A path to make space for tourists while partnering with your businesses and helping them thrive.
You’ll be at the core of it all. Because I’ll always ask myself, ‘How can this project serve your needs?’ and ‘How can we blend your expertise with mine?’”
“So,” a deep voice interrupts, “what you’re really doing is using fancy words to bullshit us into building an all-inclusive fucking hotel, is that it?”
I snap toward Matt, who pins me with a cold stare, not a hint of friendliness left on his face.
Gripping the podium, I pull myself straighter.
He thinks he’s the first man ever to try to intimidate me? In this line of work? Think again.
“It’s not an all-inclusive h—”
“What is it then?”
“It’s an experience that, yes, includes accommodation, but it’s so much more than that.”
One brow arches. “Will there be bedrooms available for guests to rent?”
“Yes.”
“Will there be a place where they can eat?”
“What’s your point?”
He lifts one shoulder. “It’s a yes or no question.”
I lean closer to the mic. “There will be dining options—”
“Then it’s an all-inclusive hotel.”
The crowd stirs, people exchanging concerned and even angry glances.
“It’s a clever use of Pine Falls unlike anything that’s been done before. You’ll no longer be a stopover town, but a destination.”
Matt scoffs, pushing off the wall. “A clever use ?”
My stomach plummets. “That wasn’t the right choice—”
“On that, we agree. Pine Falls isn’t a tool to be used to whatever end you have in mind. And if you had done your research properly like you said you did, you’d know that this town is already a destination.”
“That’s right!” a man shouts from one side of the room.
“We run successful businesses, and we work our asses off year-round to welcome visitors and to ensure they’re treated like our most esteemed guests.
Since you’ve been playing the tourist for the past week, you should know that better than anyone.
” Matt’s focus is unwavering, every one of his words sharp as a blade.
“The last thing we need is your hotel .”
Murmurs of agreement rise, mutters of “yeah” and “he’s right” coming from all directions.
Heart racing and throat dry, I glance at Rosie. I’m desperate for one friendly face, somebody who can understand I wasn’t trying to be deceitful. But her seat is empty. Shit .
“That’s exactly what I want too. I want to help your businesses thrive. All I’m asking is for a chance to present what we have in mind for this land,” I plead into the microphone, my grip on the podium tightening until my knuckles turn white.
“One more question, MissDelacroix, before you go.” He cocks a brow, a smirk on his lips. “Is it true that your father is Oscar Marchiatto? The very same businessman who wanted to build his monstrosity of a resort in our town two years ago?”
A quiet gasp spreads through the crowd.
I close my eyes. “Yes. But that doesn’t have anything to do w—”
“We don’t want your hotel!” a woman says in the back.
Next to her, another adds, “This town is not for sale!”
The locals rile each other up, and a second later, the whole room is screaming and shouting their opposition to the hotel’s construction.
Flushed, I stagger a step back. How could everything have gone so wrong, so fast?
Rob is at my side in no time, steadying me with a grip on my elbow. “Are you okay?”
I gently ease out of his hold and smooth out the creases in my pants with shaking fingers. “I’m fine, I’m fine. I think I’m gonna go.”
The minute it takes me to get to my chair and grab my bag stretches into an eternity. My chest tightens, and no matter how deeply I try to breathe, the pressure only sharpens, pushing and pushing against my lungs, crushing my ribs.
Without looking up, I move through the crowd, shoving a chair aside as I sprint for the door, barely glancing at Matt when I pass in front of him.
Even so, his attention weighs on me, as if he can sense the panic and irritation pouring out of me.
I don’t need pity. Especially not from him. I raise my chin and push forward, and the second I’m outside, I gasp, sucking in the fresh evening air.
I let out a frustrated groan. “What an ignorant, tone-deaf, closed-minded, rude asshole !” I shout into the peaceful night.
Can’t even let me finish explaining what I have in mind for his precious town.
Oh, no. He wouldn’t know what’s good for this place if it slapped him in the face.
These people are so fucking stubborn , so entrenched in their own outdated ways, that they won’t even take five seconds to consider something new.
Ridiculous.
I could turn their little town upside down in the best way possible. But no. He’d rather deal with the overcrowding every high season. I haven’t been here long, and it’s already getting tight in the streets.
Matt really fucked me over, in every way. Scratch all the thoughts I had about him, how I let myself believe he was someone worth trusting. He’s worse than I ever could’ve imagined.
I storm to my car, my hands still shaking, my lungs burning, and yank the door open. I slam it shut with a force that leaves my palms stinging.
“ Ughhh .” The sound rips out of me, so sharp, so high-pitched, that it reverberates through the car. My head falls against the wheel, my hair spilling around my face, draping over my frustration like a curtain.
I knew it would be hard. I knew my association with my dad could be an issue.
But I didn’t think it would go sideways before I had a chance to plead my case.
Show them that I’m nothing like Oscar Marchiatto.
I’m clever, I listen, and I actually care about the people my work affects.
And still, they wouldn’t give me the time of day.
Now I’m no longer climbing a hill. It’s a fucking mountain. And my father’s expectations, his impossibly high standards, are like weights around my ankles. If I can’t prove that I can do it, that I’m fit for the job, then what’s left for me to do?
All those years of busting my ass at work, sacrificing everything—my friends, my life, my relationships, my own damn happiness—all to get to this point, only to fail at the finish line?
Hell to the fucking no.
Zoey Delacroix does not quit.
Tonight was a tough blow. I have no clue how the hell I’ll turn this around, but I will. I’ll find a way. I always do. I’ve come too far to back down now.
I start the engine, my hands gripping the wheel as if I’m holding on to my future.
I’ll get this hotel built if it’s the last thing I do.