Читать книгу A Family Like Hannah's - Carol Ross - Страница 14

CHAPTER FIVE

BOARD MEETINGS WERE usually held in the conference room at the Faraway Inn and this one was no exception. Hannah’s sister Shay, who owned the inn, always saw to it that the necessary equipment was carefully and meticulously arranged; monitors, cameras and audio so even members participating long-distance were able to converse. The result was a modern, professional, yet comfortable atmosphere and usually she enjoyed the gatherings.

But not today, because now Hannah stared at Tate and listened to his comments and suggestions—and to his recommendations to completely and thoroughly unravel her ski resort.

He wanted to change everything.

He proposed turning nearly all of the runs under chairlift two—her prime intermediate ski runs—into snowboard terrain.

“I feel strongly that the construction of a half-pipe right here—” he stopped to point and she felt it like a jab in the chest “—would be the perfect location. Eventually the addition of a second half-pipe here...”

Was he joking? Two half-pipes? One would cost a lot—way more than they could afford at this point. Not to mention the continual maintenance. She looked down at the estimates he’d passed out before he started speaking. Two would be excessive to the nth degree.

“A snowboard-cross course or some slope-style components would also help to draw competitive boarders.” He met her eyes for a few seconds before adding, “And skiers. Snowy Sky could hold competitions and I guarantee you would get some professionals coming here to train. I’ve already talked to...”

Rattling off names she guessed were supposed to impress them all, he went on to add credence to his economic points with more numbers and statistics. Then he mentioned that while the lodge’s overall theme was “quaint and charming,” the design should be “upgraded” and the layout “altered” for a more modern feel, and it should also include high-end penthouse suites.

According to Tate, even the restaurant should serve different food.

She glanced around the room, and at the faces peering back from the monitors, and was struck with the feeling that she was the only one who hadn’t been hypnotized by this magician. The one possible exception was her friend Edith Milner whose expression Hannah thought held some skepticism.

As one of Snowy Sky’s largest investors, Edith had been instrumental in helping Hannah throughout this whole process—from permits to securing funding. Hannah had received a large settlement after the accident but not nearly enough to open the resort on her own. Edith had made it all possible, investing heavily and bringing others on board through her vast business connections, including her friend and fellow koi enthusiast Tiger Takagi.

But the other board members seemed riveted by Tate’s commentary and suggestions.

Hannah felt like screaming.

She’d been ready for the subject of snowboarding to be addressed, had even thought about the places where she might defer—or at the very least compromise. But never once had he said he intended to recommend an overhaul of the entire resort.

He had ambushed her plain and simple.

She forced herself to remain calm, though, because in spite of his failure to disclose his intentions, she felt confident she had the votes to reject any proposals based on Tate’s recommendations. Between her, Edith and Mr. Takagi, their block was strong enough.

Upon his closing remarks, Hannah sought permission from the chairman to speak.

“Thank you, Tate, for that informative report and those interesting facts. However, I believe I have explained to you that Snowy Sky’s focus will be a family-oriented, vacation-destination type of ski resort. Skiing is not a cheap endeavor for most families and a huge part of our draw is the large amount of beginner and intermediate ski runs, affordable rentals, lodging and food. We’re not interested in attracting professional snowboarders and competitions, or replacing our prime ski runs with snowboard terrain. One half-pipe is at best cost prohibitive. Two half-pipes feels disproportionate. How would we pay for one? And where would this influx of snowboarders come from that we could possibly justify two?”

“Skiers use half-pipes now, too,” he returned.

“Not the average skier.”

“The practice is growing in popularity.” He sounded completely confident and a little dismissive as he shifted his focus back to the screen. “If you look at these numbers I’ve compiled, you’ll see...”

After he finished his rebuttal, the board began discussing his various recommendations and asking questions. The level of excitement in the air reminded Hannah of a high school pep rally.

Over the din, Tate flashed another smile at her. But this was a smile she hadn’t seen before. One of satisfaction? She should have known he wasn’t taking her seriously. She’d thought they were becoming friends, had even found herself pondering whether they could be more than that. Something she hadn’t considered about anyone in nearly three years—not since the accident. Not since Spencer.

Park was beaming. He tried to catch her eye; she ignored him. But she couldn’t ignore the enthusiastic sounds of the board members discussing the additional revenue competitions could bring. Yes, it would bring in revenue, she wanted to shout above the noise, but it would also add untold, unsound expense.

Tamping down her frustration, she reasonably pointed out, “Please keep in mind that accommodating competitions and snowboarders in this manner would be expensive and also result in keeping families and recreational skiers away.”

“I don’t agree,” Park countered. “The expense would be offset by the revenue. It’s pretty clear that we need these half-pipes.” He referenced some of Tate’s statistics and then went on in his annoyingly superior tone, “As board members, it should be our job to focus on ensuring the economic success of Snowy Sky in any way possible.”

Edith chimed in from one of the monitors, “That does not include reckless spending, Mr. Lowell. In my opinion, Hannah and the board’s existing and more conservative approach has a much better cost-to-benefit ratio.”

Tate diplomatically added that implementing his recommendations would still leave more than adequate space for the “run-of-the-mill skier.”

Run-of-the-mill? Hannah felt a spike of annoyance. “These run-of-the-mill skiers you’re disparaging are going to be our bread and butter,” she countered smoothly.

He lifted his hands, palms up. “That’s fine. That’s great. I’m not trying to insult anyone here. All I’m asking is why not aspire to more than just bread and butter?”

“I know I would,” Park chimed in. “I’d like some steak and lobster every now and then.” An overly loud guffaw made him sound like the jerk she knew him to be.

More discussion ensued until Terry, the board’s chairman, suggested a special meeting be held in the near future to address Tate’s report. This would give everyone time to read and fully digest the material. Any proposals to take Snowy Sky in a “different direction” could be presented at that time. They voted to hold it the week after Christmas.

As the meeting progressed to other items, she barely heard them because those words, different direction, spliced together with his commentary replayed in her head, each time blurring her vision for Snowy Sky—her dream, her goals, her life—a little bit more.

She felt light-headed.

Then the chairman spoke again, “Before we adjourn, Park has requested time to bring up a new issue.”

All eyes turned toward Park who made a show of clearing his throat. He seemed to have a special smirk on his already smirk-filled face. Hannah felt a fresh swirl of dread as he began to speak.

“As we all know, during the finance and construction Snowy Sky Ski Resort Incorporated has sold two blocks of shares to investment firms, each block being twelve percent of the total shares. The purchasers were Pop Bottle Inc. and L-DOG Investments. L-DOG has just purchased the shares owned by Pop Bottle, giving L-DOG twenty-four percent ownership. L-DOG is ultimately one hundred percent owned by Tate Addison who according to our bylaws is now entitled to a seat on the board.”

He made a motion for Tate’s tenure to begin immediately. It was seconded.

Hannah sat in stunned silence, even as she reeled internally. She suddenly felt invisible within her own company—the company she had created. The resort she was building. These events seemed absolutely surreal. Tate owned a quarter of Snowy Sky? How could this have happened? Why in the world would Tate want a share of Snowy Sky?

None of this made any sense.

Before Terry could proceed with the vote, a voice of reason called out from her monitor again.

“Point of order, Mr. Chairman?”

Fixing her eyes on the screen, focusing on the face of her dear friend Edith Milner, currently vacationing in the south of France, Hannah prayed she could somehow stop this nightmare.

“Yes, Mrs. Milner?”

“According to our bylaws there is protocol to be followed as to the addition of new board members.”

“But this is an exceptional case,” Park returned confidently. “Surely we can forgo the normal vetting process here. As Tate is already involved in Snowy Sky, we can assume his motives are pure.”

“Surely you’re not suggesting we make an exception to a legally binding procedure based on personal recommendations, are you, Mr. Lowell? One of our many responsibilities as board members is to keep the threat of litigation to an absolute minimum.”

Park looked flustered, and irritated.

Tate jumped in. “Not only do I think Mrs. Milner’s point is valid, I look forward to working with someone as astute as she clearly is. I suggest the vote for my tenure be tabled until the next earliest convenience.”

Edith’s voice boomed from the monitor again. “That’s a wonderful idea. I emailed you the section and paragraph number, Terry, pertaining to the procedure for adopting a new member. Please forward it to the other members, so that everyone may easily locate and review the information.”

Hannah wondered how Edith had found it so quickly, but knowing her friend the way she did, she wouldn’t be surprised to learn Edith had the bylaws memorized. She couldn’t wait for their next Skype session.

The motion was made and passed. As the meeting concluded, Hannah looked at her watch, pretending that she had some place to be. Gathering up her belongings, she left quickly with brief comments to a couple people and waves of goodbye to a few more. Snow started to fall as she strode out the door and across the parking lot to her SUV. She climbed in, started the engine to defrost the windows and tried to decide what to do.

Instead of driving the short distance to her house, she turned down the hill toward town. She needed to think.

An idea formed in her mind and she pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store. By the time she left with two packages of comfort cookies and a sack of oranges, flakes were falling in earnest, but she didn’t even consider aborting her plan. At this point her only real comfort seemed to be the thought that at least there was one thing Tate Addison couldn’t take from her.

* * *

TATE PULLED HIS pickup into the heated garage of his rented home. Home. He took a moment to relish that thought; funny how the big house was already feeling exactly that way. When he’d signed the lease, he’d only viewed photos online.

The custom-built structure had turned out to be even more incredible than he’d imagined and yet somehow managed to maintain a cozy feel. He thought the log-cabin design and the amount of warm Alaskan cedarwood accents probably played a big part in accomplishing this atmosphere. Every time he walked through the door he counted his blessings that the house had become available.

Viktor was in the spacious kitchen preparing lunch. He enjoyed cooking and the skill was one of many domestic tasks that he’d insisted Tate learn so that he’d know how to take care of himself. Luckily for him, Viktor liked to cook more than he did, so often he did the shopping while Viktor prepared the meals.

He looked up as Tate walked in; his pale blue eyes alight with curiosity. “How did it go?”

“Good, I think.” He set a box of doughnuts on the counter and handed over the brown paper bag. “Look what I found at the bakery in town. You’re going to love that place if you haven’t been there already.”

Viktor peeked inside and then dipped his nose into the bag for a sniff. He reached in a hand and brought out a small chunk which he popped into his mouth.

“This is rye bread,” he stated and then mumbled happily in his native Ukrainian. “Thank you, Tate. We will have some with our lunch.”

Tate took a seat at one of the stools behind the bar directly across the black granite countertop from Viktor.

“Great reception from the board.” He thought about Hannah and amended the statement, “Most of the board.”

Viktor grinned. “Let me guess—your skier—she was not so pleased?”

My skier? He thought about how Adele had called him Hannah’s snowboarder. He’d liked that. Now he realized that he’d likely annihilated any chance of that. The thought depressed him to a surprising degree.

Despite her brave face at the meeting, he could see that she’d been upset. How upset? He wasn’t sure. She’d left too soon after the meeting for him to find out.

He snagged a piece of roast beef from the platter Viktor was assembling.

“No, she was not so pleased.” He repeated Viktor’s words with a grin of his own.

Viktor began slicing the deliciously pungent rye bread. After slathering a chunk with butter, he took a healthy bite, reminding Tate of Hannah’s comment at the board meeting about skiers being the “bread and butter” of Snowy Sky. A niggle of guilt poked him. He reminded himself that guilt had no place in this scenario. He was doing this for Lucas.

“What will you do?” Viktor asked between mouthfuls.

Tate shrugged. “There’s nothing I can do. She will eventually see that my recommendations make sense. She can’t just ignore snowboarders. Well, maybe she can, but the board won’t—not now. And if she doesn’t like that, then I’ll have to make her understand how much this venture means to me—to us. This is more than a business deal. This is my life. Lucas’s life. Your life.”

Tate could tell Viktor wanted to comment further, so he brought up a hand in a scooping motion, gesturing for his friend to say what was on his mind.

“I am thinking...wondering is it possible it means much to her, as well?”

He considered the question. “I haven’t seen any evidence of that, nor has she mentioned as much or even alluded to it. She’s dedicated, for sure, but not connected to Snowy Sky in the way that I am now.”

Hannah might not take life quite as seriously as Tate did, but he thought she’d make an excellent resort manager, if she could see reason where the snowboarding accommodations were concerned. If not, then maybe Snowy Sky wasn’t the place for her. It wouldn’t be the first time the project manager of a company was outvoted by her or his own board. For some reason that thought bothered him, too. He comforted himself again with the notion that she would come around in time.

Lucas strolled in from the next room with a remote control in his hands. A flash of red and silver zoomed past them and into the kitchen where a radio-controlled car spun a fast circle and skidded to a stop.

“Hi, Uncle Tate.” Lucas skipped over and held his arms up so Tate could lift him for a hug. As he did, he felt that now-familiar burst of love unfurl in his chest.

“Hey, buddy.”

Soon, Tate set him back on the floor.

Lucas stayed put. “Can you come to the fish room with me?”

“Sure, do you think the fairy woman might be there?”

His face brightened at the idea and then just as quickly dimmed. “She usually comes pretty early in the mornings, so I don’t think so, but I want to tell you the names of all the kois.”

“Sounds fun. I should probably know their names since we live with them, right?” He turned to Viktor. “How long till lunch?”

Viktor was chopping fruit for a salad and informed them they had a half hour. Tate checked the time on his watch and he and Lucas headed for the atrium.