“That right there is exactly what I’m talking about,” Silas said, narrowing his eyes at her. “Lana needs to be pulled from the Moose Springs account. She has no concept of self-control when it comes to these people. Sorry, Cousin. You’re too emotional.”
“And I suppose your penis makes you just emotional enough?” Lana glowered back.
“Before this descends into whose genitals are the most impressive, can I say something?” Killian asked dryly.
“Please do,” Jessica said. “They’re giving me a headache.”
“Silas, give us one good reason that we should liquidate the Moose Springs account and halt construction. Beyond your concern that it’s taking Lana away from bigger accounts. Because she’s right. A quarter of a billion dollars isn’t something to ignore.”
“I’ve run the numbers, and the tax rate the town imposes on out-of-state ownership is insane. That alone makes every single property we’ve acquired in Moose Springs a loss, and that’s if the tenants pay their rent. Which many aren’t. Rents need to be raised to barely break even. And while we’re fronting the tax money for improvements, there’s no guarantee the condos will sell. Without the additional income, the Shaws’ property will go into bankruptcy within five years.”
There was a look in his eyes and an eagerness to his voice that made Lana’s blood run cold. This was Silas’s ultimate plan. “You want to let them go under, then buy the resort for pennies on the dollar.”
“Exactly. The Shaws cater to an upscale clientele, and they’ve been hemorrhaging money because of it. Let them go under, then remarket the town as the poor man’s Aspen. We bring in chain restaurants, big box stores, a waterslide or two for the kids. Maybe even reach out to Disney. If we put Mickey Mouse or a Stormtrooper on skis, you know people will flock to the place.”
“And in the process of letting the current Moose Springs die, then what?” Lana challenged. “What happens to the townspeople?”
“It’s Darwinism. Survival of the fittest. Or in this case, those with the most business savvy.”
“Mother, you can’t possibly be considering this.” Jessica remained quiet, as did Killian. Trying to cover her rapidly beating heart, Lana shifted her appeal. “Killian, you’ve been here. You know these people.”
“I think…Silas’s idea isn’t unsound. It’s cruel, but it isn’t unsound.”
“And when did we get in the business of being nice?” Silas leaned back in his chair, arm outstretched as he relaxed. A relaxed Silas was a Silas who thought he’d won.
Lana was beside herself, barely able to focus on the screen in front of her. She was seeing red. “I can’t believe any of you are considering this. You’re talking about letting people get hurt, letting them lose their livelihoods for a profit we don’t even need.”
“You’re the one who made the investment, Lana,” Silas said. “Without consult from the rest of us. We’re trying to make the best of the mess you made.”
“I need to think on this,” Jessica finally decided. “Lana, Silas, put your positions on this in writing and send them to me by the end of the day.”
For the first time, Lana ended a conference call without the normal pleasantries. When her mother called back, she didn’t answer. Instead, Lana sat in an overly plush chair, the backdrop of the Chugach Mountains behind her.
If Silas had his way, too many people in this town would never make it. People like Rick would lose everything. And it was all her fault. There wasn’t much she could do. The Montgomery Group wasn’t hers to control. However…
Picking up her phone, Lana dialed the number of a man who really didn’t want to talk to her.
“Hey, Jonah? It’s Lana. I need a favor.”
* * *
She was sitting alone at the bar when a voice behind her said, “Can I buy you a drink?”
A lot of men had tried to buy Lana a drink over the years. In her world, it was a power play, a game she wasn’t interested in participating in. So Lana bought drinks for others and always for herself. But when she twisted around and saw Rick standing there, his work boots and button-up shirt not quite fitting the cocktail bar, Lana found her first smile all day.
“That would be lovely. How’s Peyton?”
“He’s already convinced Roger that he’s evil and Diego that he’s perfect. Although Quinn is so in love with that kitten, he might end up with her.”
That thought made Lana perk up. At least finding Peyton a good home had been something she’d done right. He settled into the chair next to her, his broad shoulders softening as he slouched a little in his seat. Rick was looking right at her, never wavering in his attention. For some reason, that gave her hope this day could end better than it had started.
“What would you like?” he asked.
“Double martini on the rocks,” Lana said honestly. “But I probably should have a coffee. I called a town hall tonight and need my full wits about me.”
“You called a town hall?” Rick raised an eyebrow. “Can you do that?”
“Technically, Jonah called it. I promised him it would be worth his while to indulge me this one time. I figured you would already know.”
“Are we okay?” The way he said it was quiet, those hazel eyes more brown than normal. If greener meant passion, what did brown mean? He sounded worried, hesitant and uncertain of what he was trying to say.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t we be?”
“I know last night, things went further than I’d expected. I tried to call you. I didn’t want you to think…” Rick trailed off uncomfortably. “But when you didn’t reply, I didn’t know if I was bothering you.”
Reaching over to hug him was as instinctive as it was badly needed. “I would never think that. I couldn’t imagine you ever ignoring me after—”
This time, Lana hesitated, a slight heat in her cheeks.
“Swing-time activities?” Rick offered with a wry smile.
“Porch swing-time activities,” Lana replied, flashing him a quick grin. “And I wanted to pick up, but I was busy ruining lives.”
He shook his head as if he didn’t believe that for one second. Lana wanted to tell him how badly she had screwed up, but the bartender came over. Rick ordered them both coffees, then twisted in his seat.
“Lana? What’s wrong?”
“Am I so easy for you to read?” she asked softly.
He picked up her hand, frowning down at her fingers. “These are like a little window into your head. You can be smiling and cheerful, like everything is okay. But your hands always give you away.”