Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
He made them both a hearty breakfast which included two large cups of coffee along with some of his grilled cheese sandwiches. This morning they were going to continue with their formal inspection of the lodge and sign off on what was worth keeping, and what couldn’t be salvaged. A new roof was going to cost some serious money, hopefully they could find savings elsewhere.
They started in the lobby.
The grit under his feet crunched and Matthew glanced up. He shook his head and muttered. “It doesn’t make sense.”
Rachel, who was busy adding notes to the design app on her iPad, came to stand beside him. “What doesn’t?”
Matthew pointed to the broken pieces of glass and rubble scattered about the floor. “I can’t figure out where all this stuff comes from. If it’s fallen from the ceiling, then there should be holes up above us. And the broken bits of glass.” He shrugged.
“And the vapes?”
“Yes, the vapes. Who and how were people getting in here? ”
Confession time.
They’d shared a wonderful night and early morning together in his bed, so continuing to keep the truth about the lodge from Matthew wasn’t fair. Rachel wondered how he would react to what she had to say.
Here goes. Time to rip this band aid off.
“Who—well that was usually Dan, if he knew you were coming. How— he has his own set of keys. The bit you are missing is the why.”
He stepped away from Rachel, then turned to face her. “Why?”
She’d been long dreading this conversation. Sensing it would be harder than any ongoing negotiations they might have over the future design of the place. This wasn’t just about plans or architecture—this was personal.
But you owe it to him to be honest. At least about this bit for the moment.
Rachel cleared her throat. “Why? To make you, walk away. The Brocks decided long ago that they didn’t like what you, and your family’s company represented. And until only the past couple of days I probably would have agreed with them on that count.”
Matthew’s hands went to his hips. He was moving into defensive mode, and she couldn’t blame him. As far as the townsfolk were concerned, he’d been tried and found guilty in absentia. “You mean you and the Brocks think that any billionaire developers who might want to take this broken down site to a new level, are by default only interested in money. Rachel, I put my heart and soul into that proposal.”
Tread carefully with your words, or this could end badly.
Rachel nodded. She owed him the truth, but feared what it might cost her. Might cost them. Matthew was going to be hurt. “Can you see things from our side? I remember watching you at the planning meeting. You came here with a New York City attitude. Your fancy video and that expensive model won over a lot of people at the start. But …”
She paused, waiting with growing dread for Matthew’s response. He closed his eyes. “But what?”
“Matt, Aspen might well be a town of millionaires and billionaires, but it still has a proud history. Once people realized that your fancy new resort would mean the loss of this ski lodge, they changed their minds.”
His brown leather boot kicked at the bits of broken plaster and wood on the floor. She could just imagine how he might now be viewing this place through a different lens. Until a few minutes ago, Matthew had been concerned with the mystery of the building’s rubble, but she’d presented him with a whole different problem. The painful truth as to why the Brocks, had rejected him. And in doing so, they had also rejected his family. That had to sting.
“I knew the Brocks considered me as a bit of a punk‐ass kid, but not you Rachel. So what happened? Once you heard the name Royal, did you also judge me based on my family? Should I have just tucked my tail between my legs and gone home, is that it?”
The anger was rising in his voice. The pain. She was losing control of the narrative.
And it’s all my fault.
She tried to come at the conversation from another angle. “No, that’s not what I mean. Well not now anyway. This town values character, and to be brutally honest the Matthew Royal who stood up in the planning meeting and tried to dazzle us with his mega glass and steel monstrosity is a different man to the one I’ve come to know.”
I should be the last person to judge someone based on their family name.
Damn. She still hadn’t got this right. But she wasn’t giving up. Rachel tried one last time .
“Look, your design isn’t completely terrible. It just needs to be different. Can we at least agree on that?”
Anger simmered on his face as he crossed his arms. His whole body was stiff with rage. “Oh, so my design isn’t terrible, it just has to be thrown away. Way to go with the backhanded compliment, Rach. Thank. You. Very. Much.”
Hot tears pricked at her eyes. If she gave up now, she might as well leave town too. Clever words had never been Rachel’s strong point and it frustrated her that without them she was struggling to reach the man who had captured her heart.
“Matt,” she pleaded.
He waved her away. “Leave it. I think you’ve said more than enough. I just wish you’d had the decency to tell me when we first got here what Dan had been doing. Instead you left me to wonder how sound this building was, and to question my abilities as an architect. And you also disrespected my family, who happen to be a wonderful group of people.”
She let him go, watching through unshed tears as an angry Matthew stormed out the front door.
I should have told him sooner.
It was bad enough keeping these sorts of things from Matthew. But the mistrust that she’d created between them would make it impossible for her to tell him about her own family’s checkered past.
The roar of Matthew’s Jeep as it tore out the parking lot a short time later had Rachel giving in to her tears.
Oh, Rachel. You stupid, stupid idiot.
Matthew didn’t get far. He pulled the SUV over in front of the general store at Woody Creek a few miles up the road and turned off the engine. The short drive had been enough to see him go from furious to slowly calming the heck down.
He’d punched the steering wheel in the parking lot before he left, but nothing would quieten the voice that kept talking nonstop in his head.
She lied to you.
She’s working with the enemy.
They are not the enemy, just the owners.
That’s her job.
Calm down. You are going to ruin everything with her.
He understood all of it, especially the bit about it being Rachel’s job to represent the Brock family. The thing which hurt the most was knowing Rachel was right. She was right about the need to start again. He was going to have to finally accept that his hotel and resort concept was never going to happen.
I hate it when other people are right, and I’m wrong.
His stubborn ego had seen him hold tightly to the dream of seeing his glass and steel design rise out of the ground. Of that giant glass pyramid glistening in the Colorado sun.
I’ve dreamt about it for such a long time.
Matthew punched the steering wheel one last time just for good measure, before climbing out of the car. He stood leaning against the hood of the Jeep vaguely watching various SUVs and trucks as they drew up or pulled away from the roadside.
People crossed the road and made their way into the old wooden store. When they returned it was usually with coffees and takeout food in hand. Everyone was smiling and laughing. It was obvious to even his angry mind that the local folks loved the place.
The triple storied log fronted building of the Woody Creek general store gave off the same rustic vibe as the ski lodge. It might not be as old at the Green Tree Resort, but over the years thousands of happy customers must have passed through its doors.
Checking for traffic, Matthew ambled across the road and into the general store. As soon as he stepped inside, he got why this place made people smile. He wished he could bottle the warm and welcoming atmosphere of the place. If I could, I’d make a fortune.
“Good morning, what can I do for you this bright day?” asked the gray haired, craggy faced store keeper. The man looked like he had just stepped out of an old western movie. Though his Denver Broncos cap set him firmly in the modern world.
“A large take-out coffee please.” Matthew spied some freshly baked muffins on a nearby tray. “And two of those as well.”
Two.
“Make that two large take out coffees with cream, no sugar thanks.”
As the man set to work making the coffees, Matthew asked. “How long have you worked here?”
“Owned it for twenty-seven years. Rarely taken a day off in that time, though the wife talked me into a trip to Italy last year. That was pretty special.”
“Italy is a magical place. Does get a bit crowded in summer, mind you.”
He had many Italian cousins and knew the cities of Rome and Milan like the back of his hand. The beautiful family villa on the shores of the stunning Lake Como was where Bryce and Vivian were planning to hold their wedding.
“Yeah, Italy was great, especially Venice, but it was good to get home. They might have all the old buildings and history, but there is nothing like the Colorado mountains. So what brings you all the way out here? You don’t look like you’re headed for the snow fields.”
Would you believe a temper tantrum?
“I’m working up in Aspen.” It would be easy to leave it at that, especially after what Rachel had said about the town not liking him or his plans. But if he was going to move forward with the project, he was going to have to make friends. “Actually, I’m looking to buy the Green Tree Resort and do something with it.”
The storekeeper’s brows furrowed. “Oh, right.”
Matthew held up a hand. “You can tell your friends, the plans to build the Death Star in the middle of the wilderness aren’t going to go ahead. I’m working with the owners to see what else we can do with the site.”
Two coffees and a paper bag were deposited on the counter in front of him. “I’m mighty glad to hear that. The folks around here are pretty keen to see the old building survive. It’s a landmark. Part of Pitkin County history, part of its soul.”
Matthew paid for his drinks and food, then headed back to the car. He turned the Jeep around and started the short drive home to the lodge. It was weird to think of the place as home, but he’d come to realize that’s what it was. Rachel being there made it even more like home.
Her earlier words, and that of the storekeeper had crystalized something which had been rolling around in his mind for some time.
He’d lost the Matthew Royal who’d been so passionate about design at university, and in doing so had become exactly the sort of heartless developer he’d always hated. Too focused on making the numbers work. He was past thirty. Jaded. And in grave danger of burning out. How did I get here?
Slowing the Jeep as he rounded the bend, Matthew took in the magical site of the stone ski lodge. The Woody Creek storekeeper was right. Rachel was right.He had to come up with a solution that made this future development work, but in doing so allowed the grand old Green Tree Lodge to keep its soul.
“And I get to keep the girl.”