Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Matthew Jones was Mister Matthew Royal. A man she’d thought she knew. Or did she? His bespoke dark blue suit and matching tie all but screamed New York City wealth and privilege. No wonder he could afford an expensive Hermès scarf. He probably had a closet full of them at home.
Rachel fought back tears. No this can’t be happening. She swayed in her seat, stunned by his deception.
Matthew stopped the trolley in front of the planning committee, then turned to the now silent audience. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, members of the planning committee. My name is Matthew Royal. My family owns and operates many businesses throughout the world, but I personally work in the American hotel and resort operations, Royal Resorts, which is based out of New York City.”
A wave of nausea rolled over her. Any moment now, Matthew would look her way and when he did, he would wonder why the woman he was sleeping with, and who supposedly worked in a gift shop, was sitting with the representatives for the Green Tree Resort. He’d lied to her, but then she’d done the exact same thing to him .
Seated beside her, Dan leaned over. “That’s the guy whose been trying to buy the resort for the past couple of years. Apparently, the members of his family are all billionaires. I don’t trust him.”
She sucked in her lips and gave a silent nod in reply. Any second now her composure would crack and she’d either puke or burst into tears.
Both, knowing my luck.
A screen lowered from the ceiling and the lights dimmed. For the next few minutes, the gathering watched a slick video presentation of what Royal Resorts planned to do to the Green Tree site if it was successful with its bid. The video looked like it had been produced by a Hollywood studio. It even had a professionally produced soundtrack. It made a compelling case for the total redevelopment of the site. For a brief moment even Rachel was sucked into the narrative.
But there was so much lacking. The old stone and wood building was completely gone. The heart and soul of the original hotel, ripped out. In its place stood a glass and steel monstrosity. On the video screen in front of her, Rachel’s worst fears played out in high-definition sound and color.
In the dark, Rachel put a hand to her mouth. Matthew wasn’t the same as her father, he hadn’t committed fraud, but he was still as heartless. Only someone without a soul would consider knocking down a beautiful building which held such historical significance, and not bat an eyelid.
What sort of man does that?
The same sort who would toss aside his future bride just to please his mother. One who would never fully embrace what was important in life. Honor. Loyalty. Love.
Matthew is just the same as Anthony. Love wouldn’t matter to him either.
Her attention shifted briefly from the video to the middle-aged couple who had arrived and taken up the empty seats next to Dan. Rachel’s anxiety soared to new heights, as she took in the worried expressions on their faces. She remembered the Brocks from her sister and Dan’s wedding.
They are here, which means a decision is going to be made tonight.
As the video ended, and the lights came back on, Matthew carefully removed the silver cloth which covered the table, revealing a scale model of what he now formally introduced as the new Royal Resorts Aspen.
The four members of the Brock family let out a collective sad sigh. Rachel’s heart went out to them. If these people, these billionaire raiders from the East got hold of the Green Tree Resort they would tear it down. Nothing of its history would be left.
Her gaze shifted from Matthew to the members of the planning committee. There were too many smiling faces in that group. The expensive video and shiny model had seduced them.
The same way he’d slipped so cunningly under her defenses.
I have to do something. If I don’t, then Matthew’s plans will get approved.
Once Royal Resorts had the planning committee on their side, the pressure for the Brock family to cave and sell the old ski lodge would be immense.
This was why the committee wanted the Brock’s here tonight. To force them to sell.
Matthew continued his sweet wooing of the council. Rachel glanced back at the rest of the mostly silent gathering and dread filled her. No one was standing up to defend the original resort. They’d all fallen victim to the smooth-tongued snake oil salesman.
Shame on you, Aspen.
When the Royal Resorts presentation was finally finished, Matthew thanked the committee, then took his seat. Rachel had watched him throughout the whole thing, but he’d never once looked over to where she and the Brock family sat. He’d kept his attention mainly focused on the city planning committee, and occasionally the members of the public. The man was no fool—he clearly knew they were the people he had to win over.
“Well then, that was a very interesting presentation. Thank you, Mister Royal. Would the Brock family like to say anything in response to the Royal Resorts proposal?”
This was her one big chance. To not only save the grand old lady, but to make things up to Dan, and do all she could to ensure that his and Kellie’s marriage survived.
Rachel glanced at her papers, then to her laptop. No, the answers don’t lie there. Her well-prepared proposal, along with its detailed and costed plan couldn’t compete with Matthew Royal’s glossy model and video. Her response had to be more direct. More personal. Like the pain he had caused her.
All those nights she’d spent in his arms had meant the world to her, they had given Rachel hope. And Matthew had torn that hope to pieces.
Did he think I was just a bit of fun, something to fill his nights before he fired up the bulldozers? Heartless bastard.
How had he stopped himself from laughing in her face, when she’d wondered who could possibly afford to buy a house in Aspen?
Picking up Matthew’s cashmere scarf, she slowly got to her feet, all the while making a determined point of not looking directly at him. Her deep breaths were ragged, but she was determined not to show how tightly wound her nerves had become.
Don’t let him think for one minute that he got the better of you.
“Good evening, ladies, and gentlemen. Committee members. My name is Rachel Little. I am the principal design representative for the Brock family, the current owners of the Green Tree Resort. I have a background in commercial architecture with an emphasis on preserving and protecting buildings with heritage significance such as the stone and wooden structure currently standing on the proposed development site.”
Rachel moved toward the trolley on which the model sat. When she reached it, she stood to one side, a foot or two away. The distance making plain her disdain. Her arm extended, she waved her hand in the direction of the model. “This thing. This Death Star is what happens to communities like ours when greedy developers are allowed to throw their money around.”
She leisurely dropped the scarf on the very end of the trolley, where to her deep satisfaction it slid to the floor exactly how she hoped it would.
Matthew bent and picked it up.
For the first time since he’d arrived at the meeting, Rachel met Matthew’s gaze full on. If looks could kill, he would surely have been dead.
“Mister Royal. That is your name, isn’t it? Not Jones? Just making sure.”
There was a snort or two from the assembled members of the public, but she ignored them. This battle was between her and the man who was seeking to destroy a beloved relic of the past. The man who had just crushed her heart.
“Yes. Matthew Royal,” he replied, his voice flat but with a definite vein of mistrust.
“Mister Royal wants to tear down a grand old lady of Aspen and insult us with this … this.” She let her arm drop briefly to her side, then raised it again holding her hand toward heaven. “Lord forgive me. I am truly lost for words as to how to describe it.”
The low mumbles in the room, told her she had the audience’s attention. It was now or never .
Reaching over she picked up the top of the model’s glass pyramid shaped dome. Model builders never glued those sorts of pieces down just in case architects wanted to make changes.
Waving it around in one hand, she reached over and with her other hand pulled down one of the side walls of the model. She stared at it, making a great show of knitting her brows in obvious confusion. “Because if desecrating the site isn’t in your plans, then please tell us where the heritage stone building is supposed to fit. I can’t find it.”
“It’s not.”
“Oh. Why?”
She waited, silently hoping Matthew would offer up an explanation that she could tear apart. This wasn’t her first battle with a stubborn developer, but as she’d never had to face a lover in a planning committee before, she was having to make things up as she went. Anger, pain, and disappointment flowed through her veins.
Matthew righted himself from retrieving his scarf, sitting it on the empty chair next to him. Whispers of, “He’s keeping her scarf,” rippled around the room. Rachel sensed the crowd was beginning to shift its allegiance from the shiny billionaire to the small-town heroine. Good. The sooner they were on her side, the better.
He nervously cleared his throat. “You can’t see where the old building will fit, because it’s not part of the new design. We ran the numbers and couldn’t make them work.”
Bingo, we have a winner. She was hoping he would say that money had been the main concern. It would make painting him as a heartless, money grubbing developer all that much easier.
Rachel paused, holding her hands gently together for emotional effect. “So, because she couldn’t fit in with your investment payback calculations you just cast an old lady aside?”
His jaw clenched so tightly that she was sure it must hurt. It was time to move in for the kill.
“And Mister Royal.” She wasn’t going to call him Matthew. Matthew was the name of the man who had brought her to a screaming orgasm in the early hours of this morning. No, he was Mister Royal. Her arch enemy. “What about the aspect to the mountains, have you taken that into account in designing the Death Star? I mean, one wouldn’t want a lone fighter flown by a plucky kid from a far-off planet to be able to make a successful bombing run and find the building’s weakness, would we?”
The aspect bit was utter bullshit, but the cries of “Use the Force, Luke,” which came from various parts of the audience, gave her heart. The Star Wars movie references were hitting home. The tide of opinion was turning her way.
“I don’t know what you mean about the aspect. As a qualified architect, I’m fully cognizant of the common vertical set of characteristics which tie the design together. I worked on these plans for months.”
Their gazes met, and he held hers. There was a quiet challenge in his dark eyes, which told her she was making a grave mistake in seeking to make him look incompetent.
So he’s not just a rich hotelier, he knows what he’s talking about.
She glanced once more at the model, searching for ways to exploit any other potential weaknesses. “Ah, then what about the solar panels? From what I can see you haven’t planned enough of them. Or do Royal Resorts expect their guests to bring their own flashlights and batteries?”
His expression hardened. Her cheap shot had hit home.
“I would expect we will need to add more panels at some juncture. I will admit that I left some off the model for aesthetic purposes. ”
If the future of the Green Tree Resort wasn’t at stake, Rachel would have been inclined to let Matthew’s remark about aesthetics slide. She’d done the same herself at times, left things off a model to make it look more streamline. But her job was to defend the old building and sow the seeds of doubt in the minds of the planning committee.
“So you kept important parts of your new design off the model just to make it look pretty? That shows a lack of respect for the people of Aspen, Mister Royal.”
When his shoulders sagged, she knew he’d taken a direct hit.
My heart took one from you a few minutes ago. And I’m still in pain.
A member of the public abruptly stood up and marched to the front of the room. He was the picture of a rugged mountain man, but from the way he was dressed, Rachel could tell he had money.
“Where will we park the Millennium Falcon?” he asked gruffly, bending to snatch up a piece of the model. The crowd laughed. They were lapping this up.
Matthew shot to his feet. “Excuse me, that’s part of my model.”
The model thief, pulled out his wallet, counted out some notes, and slapped them down on the table. “Two hundred bucks ought to cover it. Or do you want a check?” He ambled back to his seat, casually juggling the piece of model in his hand as he went.
The committee chair smacked his hand loudly on the table. “That’s enough, everyone sit down.”
Rachel was in two minds as to whether she would have let the rest of the gathering tear the design model to pieces, but from the look of crushed dreams on Matthew’s face it was clear he’d already conceded defeat. She wasn’t prepared to kick a man when he was down. Vanquishing the villain wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, regret constantly tugged at her heart.
I hate pulling anyone down. But you deserved it.
“This is getting us nowhere. The committee expected that’s where we would probably ended up tonight, so we put our own plan together, just in case. Security would you please clear the room,” announced the committee chair.
“But I hadn’t finished, you haven’t yet seen my proposal,” pleaded Rachel.
“That’s enough for now, thank you, Ms. Little.”
Perplexed, she headed back to rejoin the Brocks. Her brother-in-law grinned at her and whispered, “I bet Mister Billionaire wasn’t expecting any of that, you really shook him up. Well done, Rach.”
Kellie held out her hand and when Rachel took it her sister gave her a gentle ‘thank you’ squeeze. Rachel gave a nod to Dan’s parents.
The committee didn’t let me present my plans. What gives?
It took a few minutes for the crowd to file out the door, after which, Rachel risked a peek in Matthew’s direction. Other people had helped themselves to more pieces of the model, and a small pile of cash, now sat in front of him. Nursing the green Hermès scarf in his hands he looked crestfallen and shattered.
I wonder what he is thinking. I bet he hates me right now.
She’d done what had to be done, to save the old resort. Why did such an amazing guy have to turn out to be a money hungry developer?
Next time I meet a guy who I think is great, I’m going to do a full background check before he gets close enough to kiss me.