Chapter 25
Twenty-Five
Ali
Ali’s management of the Grand Finale was still in her mind when she woke up. The smile on the little ones’ faces as they ran up and down the beach was contagious. She’d caught a hit of their joy, and it woke her up this morning. Not a bad way to wake up!
Even more than the kids, she had given the parents, the families, a memory. Well, the gorgeous sunset had done that, but she’d gilded the lily, as they say.
Thanks to the location, a little snack, and good company, the sunset spectacular was its own fireworks at the park event. And there were no lines to get in or overpriced souvenirs to contend with.
Erica and Henry had showed up to lend their easy vibes and veterans’ perspectives, and in the end, Ali was also glad to have given Jorge and Didi a night off. Did they have an official backup? What would have happened if I wasn’t here? The questions added to the many that Didi needed to answer.
As wonderful as it all was, Ali realized she had a job to do for her own family now. It was time to see the books, time to get the real estate agents involved.
Didi had done that, at least. Put the books out on the desk for her to see.
Ali was used to budgets and schedules. This would be easily surveyed compared to all she had to manage for Frogtown, from payroll to building regs.
She opened the current year…and the imbalance was terrifying.
The bookings were down to a trickle.
She looked at the expenses of the operation.
Utilities, maintenance, taxes, and salaries for Jorge and Didi were listed. Their salaries were minuscule. How in the world do they manage?
Well, she did remember both were retired from other careers, so this was their “extra,” maybe? But they were working full-time for a decidedly part-time income.
It was all managed from a central checking account.
They weren’t in the red. They were even. She went back through a few years and did see that the rentals brought in so much more, even three or four years ago, but certainly, since the pandemic onward, things had gone downhill here.
She made a few notes.
To make Sea Turtle profitable would take so much work. Work that Jorge and Didi maybe just couldn’t do anymore. She remembered the phone bill, unpaid, the calls unanswered. There was no website either, so no wonder no one was staying here. They couldn’t, unless they had a reservation from a year ago or they walked up and tapped Didi on the shoulder for a rental.
Ali closed the ledgers. The math was easy here, and the job was hard.
Ali looked at her phone. It was just about time for her appointment with Patsy Gleaner, the Gulf Coast’s Premiere Elite Commercial Real Estate Agent. Or so it said on her website, Gulf Coast Elite.
At 11 a.m. on the dot, a tiny woman knocked on the screen door of the office.
“Hello!”
Ali swung open the screen and let Patsy inside, though letting really wasn’t what you did with this woman. You made way for her!
Ali was not tall, at 5’4”, but she was long-limbed. Most people thought she was tall until they stood next to her. Patsy was maybe five feet? She was built like a gymnast and had the same flip-flopping energy. Her hair was a literal bouffant, though she didn’t look much older than Ali. She wore white capri pants, high-heeled white pumps, and a leopard print blouse tied at the neck with a big bow. Her pink lipstick and nails matched perfectly, and she smelled like Elizabeth Taylor’s Passion Perfume.
This little dynamo grabbed Ali’s hand with both hers and shook hard.
“I’m so excited you called me! We’ve all had our eyes on this place for just ever. Ever!”
“You have?”
“Are you kidding? It’s prime beachfront and no one had been able to touch it since God knows when. I’ve called the management company personally a dozen times over the year, but not even so much as a return call. And now there’s not even a number.”
Ali had found the same problem, and unfortunately, Didi and Jorge were no help either. They said it was all “on the internet.”
“Well, be that as it may, I own it, it turns out, and I need to get a better picture of what it’s worth.”
“You own it? How amazing! Did you buy it? I didn’t see a real estate transfer notice in the records? All under my nose! That’s quite a feat.”
Ali didn’t feel like she owed Patsy her life story. As likable as the little dynamo was, they had just met. And Ali didn’t really know the story herself. She decided to keep things vague.
“My father passed away recently; we discovered it while we settled all of his affairs.”
“My condolences. Okay then, let’s take a walk, shall we?”
“After you.”
Ali gave Patsy a similar tour to the one Didi had given her just a few days ago.
“Oh gosh, this hotel, I mean, this was the place to stay back when I was a kid, in high school.”
“Really?”
“Yes, before all the condos, we’d come for spring break when the MTV Spring Breakers came to Daytona. We had a much more chill vibe, but still, all the cute boys!”
Ali laughed; she liked Patsy.
“But, yikes, these rooms, ah, ew.”
Ali had an urge to stick up for the little hotel. “They’re okay, cleanish.”
“Aha, but that doesn’t cut it if you’re going to get top dollar.”
They walked through the little inn and then out to the pool.
“Whoa, what in the Sea Turd is this pea soup?”
“Sea Turd?”
“Yeah, sorry, love, just being honest. That’s the nickname this place has, thanks to, uh, stuff like this.”
Ali felt the instant urge to defend Didi and Jorge. “The managers have had to let a few things slide, health issues.”
“I’d say this is supposed to be aquamarine, not gangrene.”
“No, I mean they have health issues. I’m told it’s a chemical issue with the pool, though, not structural.” Ali said this and really didn’t know if she was lying or not. She also really didn’t know why she was taking this all so personally. She wanted an honest assessment of the value of the place. That was the job she was here to do.
They moved on to the cottages. The Hafners and the Nobles were heading out to the beach with various toys, blankets, and umbrellas.
“Wait, I didn’t get your neck!” Kerry Hafner called after the youngest as he sprinted toward the surf.
Ali smiled. She remembered that same battle to baste her little ones in sunscreen when all they wanted to do was jump in the water.
“You saw the Inn had six units, and there is also a penthouse, but that’s, uh, under construction.” She lied; it was boarded up. She hadn’t even been inside, but it did sound good, a penthouse.
Patsy had her iPhone out. She was making voice notes as they walked away from the pool to the beach cottages.
“Approximately two acres of frontage with one acre deep.”
“I really love the cottages; I had the pleasure of staying in the Key Lime. It’s really a Zen experience, you know?” Ali had grabbed the keys of all the vacant cottages so Patsy could see each of them. They all had a slightly different vibe, though the same amenities.
“Zen? No. No time for yoga in this market!”
As Patsy investigated the Mango, she pinched the fabric of her leopard print blouse and separated it a few times from her chest in an effort to fan herself. “Menopause is a real treat, and in Florida, my hot flashes are like someone left the sliding door open to hell itself, phew.”
“Sorry, they have wall units, but we didn’t think you’d need them on for this tour.”
“I don’t.”
Patsy barely looked at the cottages.
They walked past the fire pit and out to the beach.
“This is the only thing that really matters.”
“What?”
Patsy made another audio note on her phone. “Possibly fifty units, either rental or highest ticket. Check zoning.”
“Fifty? No, it’s six and then six over there.”
“No, sorry, I forget my thoughts if I don’t put them right into the notes app. Do you have the Notes app? It’s a lifesaver. Another fun fact, my memory is doodoo these days. I just went on Estradiol, though, so my doctor says it should start getting better. Here’s my advice: get a woman OB/GYN. They know, you know?”
Ali nodded. What the heck are we even talking about?
“I know,” Patsy said, “you’re standing there thinking I’m two nuggets short of a six-pack, right?”
Ali laughed. “No, you’re a lot, though.”
“I get that. I am all me, all the time. No other way to be.”
“I admire that, I’m working on it.”
“You’re what? Late forties? Your life is just getting interesting.”
“That much is true. The last few weeks have been a whirlwind.”
“I can see that. So, let’s get down to brass tacks.”
“Okay.”
“This hotel and these cottages are tired, out of style, and a financial drain. Whoever owned this place held out so long that the market has moved on.”
“I think they’re so cute.”
“Yeah, but you could be charging triple for a condo facility. If you’re looking to do that. But that’s also work work work, plus with the new building regs, it’s not cheap.”
“Nothing is down here, I noticed.”
“Here’s what I recommend. You give me this listing. The entire property. And we sell it for you. Likely, the developers will be able to tear it down, and do this right to maximize the rental income from vacationers. It’s impossible to do that with this setup.”
Ali felt defensive again. This place didn’t need to be torn down. It just needed new energy.
“Condos on this stretch could go for millions per condo for the owners and thousands of dollars a week to them for vacationers.”
“Millions? Like two million?”
Patsy peered over her chunky animal print progressive glasses and leveled her most serious face at Ali. “I’d tell you to sit down, but we’re on the beach, and I don’t have my bathing suit. So, here’s my no B.S. number. This land alone, the acreage? This can easily list for fifteen and sell for ten.”
“Ten what?” Ali was starting to feel faint. Are hot flashes contagious?
“Ten million dollars in your pocket. You know, provided you own this free and clear.”
Ali did want to sit down; her breath had got shallow. The conversation felt unreal. What did the kids say? She needed to touch the grass.
“You’ve got prime beach property, just not prime beach rental. Let me take this off your hands, and your next chapter will be as a millionaire. Well, a multi-millionaire.”
Patsy Gleaner was a dynamo, and she had, with that information, given Ali a whole new picture of her future.