“Yeah, sure. I agree.” Emily glanced around. “How long will it take?”
Sally scrunched up her face and looked around. “Could probably do it in a week or two, right, Shane?”
Shane nodded. “If we haul butt.”
“Two weeks?” Emily sounded shocked and a bit rushed. “You mean I could be renting it out in less than a month?”
“Yeah, but then we’d move on to the next unit. Gonna be noisy,” Sally said.
“Oh, right.” Emily sounded relieved. “I need some time to get things like sheets and towels. Some of those remote digital locks for the door.”
“And we have to have it inspected,” Shane reminded them.
Emily’s expression clouded over. She was probably thinking of the auction inspection from Damien. “Let’s hope that goes smoothly.”
“It should,” Sally said. “We don’t do shoddy work, so there’s no reason it won’t pass.”
Emily nodded. “Of course. Okay then, looks like we have a plan.” She turned to Andie. “Guess we better get going on that ad.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Emily and Andie spent the day rummaging through the house for antiques they could use to decorate the rental units. Luckily, there were a lot of items that were old and would give the right ambiance, but none were terribly valuable, so it wouldn’t be a hardship if any of the guests got sticky fingers.
Not that either of them expected sticky-fingered guests, but one never knew. Andie found it easier to plan for it in advance than be surprised when it inevitably happened.
Sally and Shane had been hard at work all day; the sounds of saws buzzing and nails being hammered drowned out the creaking of the old floorboards. The sharp scent of freshly cut lumber and sawdust, borne on a slight breeze so welcome in the heat of the day, filtered through the windows as Andie searched the house.
It wasn’t until late afternoon that Andie and Emily got a chance to sit on the porch, glasses of lemonade in hand, and dig through the web, searching for the boutique motels Jules had told Andie about.
“Who knew there were so many boutique hotels?” Emily said as she scrolled through search engine listings.
“No kidding.” Andie watched as Emily scrolled past different articles on hotels and travel. The sidebar was filled with ads for more. Andie was surprised to see how many different hotels had niche themes.
One boutique hotel was all about animals, complete with animal-print wallpaper in the rooms. One was built like an old train station with train-themed bedding and decor. In another, all the suites were decorated like an old Hollywood stage set.
“I think we need to pay attention to the wording of the ads so we can emulate them,” Emily pointed out. “If we can find commonalities, it might give us a hint as to what types of phrasing is effective when we do our own.”
“Good idea.” Andie continued to scroll. “We should see about doing an article about our rooms and the history of the house for that magazine website too.”
“With lots of pictures of the gorgeous view.” Emily swept her arm to indicate the expansive view of the ocean below.
“There are quite a few antique boutique hotels in here. That’s a good sign.” Andie figured if there was more than one, that meant there was customer demand. With this many, they would have no problem booking guests once the rooms were open.
“Look at this one.” Emily tapped the screen on a big ad that took up a wide portion of the top of the screen. “It has a widow’s walk where they say guests can see the ghost of Captain Elijah Perkins’s widow!”
“And this one in Salem, Massachusetts, claims to have the original cast iron pot that Bridget Bishop cooked in before she was executed as a witch.”
“And a black cat,” Emily added. Her brow puckered in a slight frown. “All we have is the quilts. Maybe we should put them on display somehow so people can’t ruin them? They’re too precious and old to let people use.”
“Good idea.” Andie looked through a few of the other ads, worries creeping into her thoughts almost undetected until one in particular settled in. Lots of competition was good, but with so many great choices out there, how would her vacation rentals rise above what was already on offer?
All of the listings she’d seen seemed to have one or two—some had three!—special items with stories that really hooked their visitor’s imagination. She would certainly be drawn to a hotel where Bridget Bishop’s actual cauldron was on display. Maybe her hotel needed something more?
“I see you guys already called quitting time,” Sally said as she came around the corner. Glancing at the computer, she tilted her head to acknowledge the boutique hotel ads. “Going on a trip?”
“No, we’re scouting out the competition.”
“You don’t say?” Sally squinted at the computer as she brushed sawdust from her jeans. “I’m about to melt. It’s too hot for working much longer. I’m thinking a nice walk on the beach would be great to cool us off.”
