Chapter 7
Landon
Walking into Reeves Construction feels like I’ve entered an upscale Ikea showroom, except custom and luxurious.
Each space has a different vibe and highlights the finishes and aesthetics the company might bring to a project.
I especially love the diagonal hardwood floors in the conference room and the floor-to-ceiling frameless windows that overlook Olympic National Park.
Collin called this morning and said the site plan draft is ready. If I like what I see, we’ll sign a contract that makes Reeves Construction the official contractor for the Reeves Estate restoration.
We’ll see if Collin and Archer are as good as Zoe thinks they are.
I’m still not sure about the Reeves brothers.
Are they really the team I want to head up this project?
Zoe made quite a convincing argument when we were at the house, but a week later I realize she did all the talking and they didn’t seem as excited as I need them to be about the project.
Today we need to remedy that if I’m going to partner with them.
Architectural drawings of the house and the site map of the entire estate dominate the conference room table. Next to an open laptop, Archer sits at the head of the table stirring a cup of black coffee and does half a wave when their secretary shows me through the door.
Collin greets me, then taps the blueprint. “These are based on archival copies Zoe provided. There have been renovations since they were drawn, but they give us a good place to start brainstorming exactly what our project will entail.”
Our? I appreciate him taking ownership over the process, but we’re jumping the gun a bit.
“Like we discussed before, we’ll start with ten cabins spread around the property.
The north wing will be reserved for my family, with distinct separation between guest spaces and private spaces. No guest rooms in the main house.”
“Ten? I thought we decided on fifteen?” Collin asks.
“Ten.” I’m solid on the number. Any more than that and the seclusion we’re seeking will be lost.
Archer whistles low. “Zoe’s not going to like that.”
“How easy will it be to fit fifteen cabins throughout the forest?”
“It’s a lot more site work.”
“Right, so we start with ten cabins five hundred yards behind the house and expand later as needed.”
Archer leans his elbows on the table. “It rains two hundred days a year.”
“And?”
“If we’re spreading guests around the property, how do they reliably get to the main house for breakfast without getting drenched?”
“Golf carts. Umbrellas. They’ll be fine. This place will be marketed for its peace and privacy. People who want to play Scrabble in the library every night are unlikely guests.”
“Does that match what the town council wants? Tourism is their primary concern. Growth. Dollars. They want guests who visit Main Street, buy souvenirs at the bookstore, grab coffee, eat burgers and fries on the bay. Those people play Scrabble. We need to plan for them.” Archer’s eyes narrow.
“Or is your plan to price the cabins so high that only your billionaire cronies can afford to stay here? No regular people allowed.”
There’s that possessive tone again. I don’t appreciate the condescending assumptions either.
But it is nice to see his fire.
I recline in one of the chairs and kick my feet up on the table, resting my hands on my stomach. “Why are you really going along with Zoe’s scheme?”
“Besides helping a friend?” Collin asks.
“This is a big project to agree to just because you’re friends.” Have they ever been more than friends? Nausea squirms in my stomach. It shouldn’t matter, so why does my gut rebel against the idea?
Zoe’s beautiful, but there will only ever be animosity between us. It doesn’t matter who she’s dated. At least, it shouldn’t.
But the idea of her making out with either of the men in front of me almost has me bunching my fists and demanding they tell me their history with her.
What’s wrong with me? Women never have this effect on me. Why her? Why now? Or is this a symptom of my loneliness?
That’s got to be it. She’s the only attractive woman I’ve met in months, so my body reacts to her. It’s desire, lust. Nothing more. Nothing worth acting on. Definitely not worth blocking a deal over it.
“She’s right to put my company in charge of the renovation.” Collin gestures toward the men and women moving through the office on the other side of the conference room windows. In jeans and flannel, they don’t look like professionals, but I guess professional contractors don’t wear suits, do they?
I’ve never renovated an old estate before. We’ve always started from scratch, wiped clear whatever was on the land and built skyscrapers that host a thousand guest rooms using multinational construction companies who move from project to project. Nothing grassroots like this.
“But why you? Why are you the best?” I spread my hands.
“The other construction companies in the area won’t do the job justice. Like Zoe said, our name is on the front gate. Our family’s reputation is at stake just like yours is. We won’t let you down because that would be letting our family down.”
“What about you? Do you agree with Zoe?” I ask Archer.
“It will take time to get used to looking up at the bluff and seeing lights through the trees, but I can’t argue that our local economy doesn’t need the boost.”
“There are other ways to grow an economy besides tourism. There’s an ocean full of opportunities on the other side of the bay. Why not reopen the shipping company?”
Archer shakes his head. “This is a small town in the middle of nowhere. One hundred years ago, our great grandfather could get away with having his headquarters here. Now, we can’t compete with the ports in San Francisco or Vancouver.”
“What about fishing? Manufacturing?” I tick ideas off on my fingers. “If you make the area attractive to tech companies, they will build campuses that rival Silicon Valley for half the price. That’s a lot of jobs.”
“And destroy the forest in the process? No, thanks. Besides, that’s not the job. Renovating the estate and making the resort profitable are.”
I drop my feet to the floor. “Does everyone do what the town council wants? You think a resort is the only way to help Rainwater Bay?”
“Why are you here?” Collin asks. “Why our family’s estate? There must be places better suited to your original vision. Why jump through their hoops if you don’t have to?”
“That’s personal.”
“Not business?” Archer’s gaze darts to Collin then back to me.
“We’re out if this is a whim,” Collin says. “You can’t get bored in six months and ditch this project. That would ruin me.”
“Won’t happen.” I’m not telling them how lonely it is at the top.
I’m such a cliché. No one pities the billionaire.
Really, what do I have to complain about?
If I wanted to, I could turn over every aspect of the business to an appointed CEO, find myself a pristine beach, and drink Mai Tais for the rest of my life.
But that sounds as boring and lonely as my current life.
My brother and I need this project. We need this house to be a place where we finally feel at home and can rest, even if we know it’s just temporary.
I won’t give up my purpose because I’m burned out.
I’ll recharge like I’m a battery and Rainwater Bay is an electrical outlet.
“How can we trust you? We don’t know you.” Archer’s lawyerly demeanor snaps into place.
“You don’t need to know me when you know my reputation. I’ve never left a project unfinished, every project executed to perfection. Trust me when I say this one matters more than anything I’ve ever done.”
“But why?” The brother’s eyes bore into me. Pinched at the corners. Mouths tight. Shoulders bunched. They won’t accept my deflection, so I give them something.
“This is for my brother. Things haven’t been easy for him the last couple of years, and when I reminded him of our childhood, hiking to your great-grandparents’ estate, the nostalgia won us both over. We are going to recreate the best time in our lives.”
Collin nods at Archer. “That is a reason we can support.”
“I’ll finalize the contract.” Archer grabs his laptop.
“Show me the site plan.”
Zoe
Dad’s scowl is heavy on my mind as I drag myself to The Bright Spot Friday morning. My hair is wet from my morning swim, and chilly air ripples goosebumps along my arms. I wanted the swim to give me a clear perspective on dad’s behavior, but it didn’t.
As I combed through Mom’s boxes and described the plan for the Reeves estate to him, he became angrier. Red cheeks, tight fists. I had to stop so he didn’t have another heart attack.
He says he wants to stick with tradition, remember our roots, but why is he so angry? It doesn’t make sense for him to be this worked up over a new resort.
I’m not a huge fan of the idea, but at least the council has the town’s best interests at heart. They’re right that Rainwater Bay isn’t what it once was.
What it can be.
We need jobs. We need fresh ideas and energy.
If we don’t give new businesses a chance to grow and thrive, our current trajectory leaves us a ghost town in the next twenty years.
Why doesn’t Dad see that?
Is there a deeper reason behind his stubbornness? Something I don’t understand?
Dad has never been an open book, so how do I figure it out?
The bell rings when I push through the glass front door, and my mouth waters when the scent of freshly brewed coffee hits my nose. Francesca hugs me over the counter. She’s wearing a 1950s-inspired cocktail dress this morning that hugs her figure and brings out the green in her eyes. “Flat white?”
I wrinkle my nose. “I need something with more flavor today.” Predictability can take a vacation. I need sugar and spice.
“Chai, gingerbread latte, café Cubano?”
“A gingerbread chai actually sounds really good. Is that a thing?” I bite my bottom lip to keep from licking them in anticipation.