Epilogue
CLAYTON
S ometimes, everything lined up perfectly.
Fate had a way of stepping in and giving me everything I needed.
At the moment, it was giving me a sought-after meeting with none other than Alessandro Rinaldi, one of the best-known and wealthiest hoteliers on the West Coast. He owned properties in California, Nevada, and Oregon, and for decades, his family name had been synonymous with quality and hospitality.
But nothing lasted forever, including a career.
The old man was ready to retire and had made it known months earlier that he was looking for a successor.
Considering he only ever had one daughter and was too old-school and chauvinistic to give the business to her, the path was open for me to snap up his empire and make it part of my own.
It wasn’t my fault he never had a son and refused to get with the times. Who was I to argue with tradition?
The things I told myself when I was staring at the prospect of doubling my properties.
His already-lined face wrinkled like a bulldog’s when he smiled and shook my hand, taking his seat at his desk. Behind him on the walls, lined up along the credenza at his back, were memoirs, photos, the story of his life laid out in pictures and commendations.
“I’m an old man,” he pointed out once we exchanged pleasantries. “I would rather secure my legacy now, while I’m alive, to choose my successor than wait and let somebody figure it out once I’m gone.”
“I completely understand. I wouldn’t leave anything that important in the hands of anyone but myself. I don’t trust anyone’s judgment the way I trust my own.” That was the truth, too, more than an empty platitude to make the meeting go smoothly.
“I’ve done a lot of research over the past several months,” he explained.
“My people have visited properties up and down both coasts. I wanted them to see how things were run, especially since they know what to look for and could be spies, in a way.” He shrugged, chuckling.
“A man does what he has to do. Let’s cut through the bullshit.
You impressed me across the board. It’s uncanny somebody your age understanding the finer points of hospitality the way you do. It’s all about the details.”
“That’s my motto,” I assured him. “We go above and beyond every day for every customer.”
“That’s the way to do it. That’s how you earn lifelong friends instead of customers who will forget you by the time their trip is over.
” He lifted his glass of wine in a silent toast, which I returned.
“It’s always a plus when a couple of businessmen can cut through the bullshit and see eye to eye. I knew I was making the right choice.”
My skin tingled, though I did my best to conceal it. It wouldn’t do any good to jump, to look too eager. “Can I take that as confirmation you’ve decided to sell your properties to me?” I asked, keeping my tone light.
“I’ve decided to make the offer,” he confirmed, and I leaped with joy inside.
This was what I had been working toward.
It was time to stop building from the bottom up and focus on rehabbing businesses that could have done with some improvements.
The Rinaldi properties would need to be updated, rebranded, but they already ran like well-oiled machines.
The only way I would be able to scale my business without tearing my hair out would be to invest in properties like his.
After that first rush of triumph passed, it gave me the chance to reflect on his choice of words.
“You’re worried I won’t accept the offer?
” I asked with a generous laugh. “Were you planning on taking me to the cleaners over this? I can assure you, I have fairly deep pockets, and I am motivated to buy.”
“Exactly how motivated are you?” With his elbows on the armrests of his high-backed chair, he tented his fingers under his chin. “Because I have a rather unusual arrangement in mind. Nowadays, anyway. Back when I was a boy, it wasn’t so unusual. More a matter of tradition.”
Was he going to ask me to provide a family tree? Have a blood test, see where I came from? He was known for his so-called traditional ways, falling back on the old days. He valued family, honor, all of that. What did it have to do with me?
He soon explained. “You know I have a daughter. The apple of my eye, though I do wish she would’ve been born a man. She’s got the head for business, but not…”
The genitals? I kept my thoughts to myself, waiting for him to finish.
“Anyway,” he continued with a sigh. “I want to make sure she’s taken care of when I’m gone. And she does love managing the properties, traveling around, overseeing operations. I wouldn’t want her to lose that. It gives her purpose.”
“Do you want me to keep her on as an employee? Of course,” I agreed. All things considered, it wasn’t too much to ask. A manager with an already robust understanding of the properties could only be a good thing.
“I’m looking for more than that.”
The door opened behind me, and I turned, startled to find a raven-haired young woman standing in the doorway. “Papa? Oh,” she murmured, her gaze drifting over me before returning to him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be in a meeting.”
He waved her in, smiling. “No, Mira, please come in. This is Clayton Manning.”
A cloud passed over her face, hardening her expression and narrowing her steely gray eyes before she offered a curt nod.
“Of course. The heir apparent.” There was no need to guess how she felt about that.
She practically bored holes through me with those angry eyes.
What a shame since there was a tight body under her fitted suit.
“Not so apparent,” her father corrected. “Because, as I was just about to tell him, there is one major condition. If it’s not fulfilled, the deal is dead in the water.”
“And what is that condition?” I asked once my curiosity got to be too much.
“The man who acquires these properties and takes over my family business must also wed my daughter.” He beamed at her. “My Mirabella. So there will still be a Rinaldi in the owner’s family.”
My mouth fell open before I looked her way, hoping she would laugh, that this was all a prank, a little light hazing to welcome me into the fold.
Considering her jaw damn near hit the floor, I had the feeling she was as shocked as I was.