The Tourist Attraction Page 44
Quinn unlocked the door for her, then disappeared down the hall with a cheery wave, returning to her work.
Stepping inside the hotel suite, Zoey’s eyes went immediately to the massive conference table running the length of one side of the suite. Easily capable of seating twenty people with plenty of room, the table had been set up with a miniaturized, lifelike display of the town, resort, and surrounding mountain ranges.
Everything was there. Even tiny places like the daycare and Frankie’s bakery had been accounted for. Shops so carefully unmarked and unnamed for privacy were fully disclosed for everyone to see. Places of high traffic were marked with colorful dots, with the largest dots gracing the various coffeehouses and gift shops around town.
The Tourist Trap had the largest dot of all.
“Killian, please warn me of when you’re coming over here.” Lana’s voice came from the other room. “You startle the life out of me every time I’m in the powder room and hear—oh. Zoey.”
Zoey nodded at the woman appearing from the suite’s far bedroom. “Just me. Lana? What is this?”
Distracted by the display, Zoey had failed to notice the display boards lining the wall, printed with computer-generated, artistic architectural renditions of—
Feeling the blood drain from her face, Zoey stepped back.
“Those are of Moose Springs. You promised Graham you didn’t buy the resort.”
Lana sighed. “No, dearest. I didn’t buy the resort. I promised him I wouldn’t, so I didn’t. But I might have to eventually. The Shaws don’t want to sell, but they’re broke. It’ll only be so much longer before the resort will fold and take the entire town with it. I care about Moose Springs far too much to let that happen.”
Sitting on the edge of a chaise lounge, Lana gave her a sad look. “Zoey, you come from a small farming town. Even without the influx of travelers passing through, your town would survive. Moose Springs is the ultimate tourist trap. A hundred years ago, there weren’t enough people to be strained by closing the mining operations. Now the population is too high, and the economy is based on supporting tourism. And unfortunately, for as many bodies as come through here, the resort just isn’t making enough money. I give them two years, maybe three tops before they would have to go under.”
“Does Jax know?” As Graham’s friend, she could only imagine how deep that betrayal would cut.
“No, they specifically wanted Jackson to stay out of it. But his parents came to me with a proposal.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Lana, this is huge.”
“It is huge, and it’s also been a huge pain. Do you know how hard the town will fight me on this? It’s not that I didn’t trust you, but I couldn’t risk word getting out before I had everything in place.”
Sashaying over to the table, Lana pointed to a large section of the mountainside abutting the resort. “We build privately owned luxury condominiums here. Each will have all the same amenities available to the owner or seasonal renter as the resort currently offers. That’s what the gala was for, showing everyone an amazing time and then selling them on the idea of purchasing a permanent home connected to the resort. Most of them would only come once or twice a year, but it would make a huge difference.”
Nudging a folder toward Zoey, Lana sat down at the table, her elbow near Rick’s bar. “A construction project this size will bring a lot of jobs to Moose Springs. Annual association fees from the condominiums will provide steady currency to the resort. More employees to take care of guests, more restaurants, healthcare services, better infrastructure…all of which would be needed to accommodate the influx of people from this project. More tax money for the town.”
Lana ran a fingernail along the top of the miniature Rick’s. “Moose Springs might still be a tourism town, but its wealth will be tied into the permanent establishments of these homes. And that will make the town stronger. Give them a chance when the resort eventually changes hands.”
“Are you sure the town will let you? Isn’t something of this scale hard to get approved? Won’t you need permits or something?”
“That’s where the leverage comes in.” Lana quirked a tired smile at her. “The bulk of the commercial properties in town are owned by two different investment companies, one out of Anchorage and the other out of Vancouver. A few businesses are privately owned, like the Tourist Trap, but most are rentals. To be able to push this through, I have to have a deep enough sway over the community to get it past the town council.”
Feeling her eyes about to pop out of her head, Zoey looked at Lana in shock.
“You didn’t buy the resort. You bought the entire town.”
* * *
The sunlight shining through the diner window had the sheer gall to land right on Graham’s face.
“No, quit it.” Swatting a hand at the sunbeam, he groaned. “Go away.”
Cheerfully oblivious to his self-induced agony, the sun continued its happy path across the sky, bringing more light on his chosen bed. Too drunk to drive and too miserable to call someone for a ride, he slept on top of two tables shoved together, a wadded-up towel as a pillow and a bottle of Wild Turkey tucked under his arm. His suit from the previous night wasn’t the most comfortable of sleepwear, but Graham figured he deserved a little pain for making bad choices.
And boy, had he made bad choices. The hard drinking hadn’t started until Graham watched Zoey walk out his door.
“Go away, sun.” Graham moaned as more poured over his face. “I’m internal monologuing.”
“Oh man, he’s worse than I thought. It smells like something died in here.”
Shoving himself up to his elbows, Graham and what was left of his Wild Turkey stared blearily at the shadows within the diner. “I have resigned myself to the situation and accept all responsibility for my choices.”
“Okay, someone needs a trip to the sink.”
“I lost my moose,” Graham slurred to the people hauling him off his table bed. “I lost my girl.”
“I’m really hoping those two aren’t the same thing,” Ash said. “East, can you help me with him. He’s…oof. Seriously, Graham. Go on a diet. You are way too heavy to be this drunk.”
“Zoey Bear liked me.”
“Zoey Bear doesn’t have to lug you around.” Ash grabbed his chin. “Focus, big guy.”
Staring blurrily at her as two Ashes merged into a single one, Graham groaned and dropped forward, his head on her shoulder. “I lost my moose.”
“Yes. And Easton tracked him.”
“You did?”
Easton grunted an affirmative.
“Is he okay?”
“Better than you.”
“Did you see my bed? It was very self-sufficient of me.”
“Sure, it was.” A hand patting his shoulder became fingers locked in his shirt. “In you go.”
Which was how Graham ended up facedown in his diner’s dish-washing sink, flailing as Ash held him down and Easton sprayed ice-cold, high-pressured water into his face. Sputtering and cursing, Graham fought his way free, backing away from the sink. He called them both a few names, shaking the droplets out of his face.
Ash raised an eyebrow. “Feel better?”
“A little.” Inhaling a deep breath, Graham nodded. “Okay, let’s do it again.”
This time, Easton held him down and Ash sprayed him, because Easton was much harder to escape from. By the second time Graham emerged from the sink, drenched and frozen, he was wide awake.
“That’s a way to sober up.” He shuddered.
“Fun to watch too.” Setting a hip against the sink, Ash playfully aimed the sprayer toward her twin. “You’re smelling a little ripe yourself, East. Want the same?”
“I’ve been in the woods all night,” he rumbled. “What’s your excuse?”
“Children, behave.” Stripping his now soaked dress shirt off, Graham grabbed a kitchen towel from the stack of freshly laundered ones. Scrubbing the water from his hair and face, he turned back to his friends. “I don’t suppose anyone was nice enough to bring me a change of clothes? Or my dog?”
“No, we just figured we should sober you up before the lunch shift. Jake’s with Dad right now. We didn’t want him to smell you like this.” This time, there was only one Ash when she took his chin in her hand, peering up at him critically. “You good in there?”
“Better.” Pulling her in for a quick hug, Graham smirked at her noise of protest.
“You smell terrible, Graham.” Ash freed herself, then looked at him seriously. “Hey, we need to talk.”
“About how my stupid ass broke up with my dream girl last night over an emotionally disturbed moose?”
“Worse.”
The news really wasn’t good. Graham listened to what Easton and Ashtyn had heard through word of mouth, then he went straight to the source, Jackson Shaw. Graham could have called Lana herself, but he had…feelings…about all this, and he didn’t trust himself not to lose another friend and burn a second bridge in the heat of the moment. So he listened to Jax tell him all about the gala’s main excitement: the revealing of the multimillion-dollar luxury dream homes that were soon to be a permanent scar on his already disfigured mountain.
“Is there any way we can stop this?” Graham asked, his hangover building into a powerful headache between his temples.
“Mom and Dad already sold her the land. Nice of them to leave me as the one fielding all the calls today. Do you know how many times my ass has been chewed just this morning?”
“We’ll block it at the permit stage,” Graham decided. “Listen, I’ve got a line building up outside, and I need to find a shirt. I’ll call you later to discuss this some—”
“Why don’t you have a shirt?”
“Why do you care if I don’t have a shirt?”