‘Go on…’ Lysander said, encouragingly.
‘I want to take on Seven Summits… the three vacant properties.’
Lysander slumped back in an armchair and took the last slug of whisky from the glass still in his hand.
‘I have so many exciting ideas for them and they’re just sitting empty. Why did Father buy them if they were just going to gather dust?’
‘To stop anyone else having them,’ Lysander shrugged. ‘You know he has this weird obsession with Kivvi.’
‘Then wouldn’t it make sense to piss him off more by making a killing out of them? Think of the wasted revenue!’
Think of the fun I could have in them.
‘Maybe it pisses Kivvi off more to know that Dad doesn’t even want the revenue.’
‘But I could do so much with them!’
Lysander nodded, as if to say tell me more. He noted his sister’s face was more animated than he had seen it all weekend.
‘I could hold salons, creative events, worldwide launches. Dior and Gucci shouldn’t be doing shows from Seville, London or Edinburgh over Switzerland! Chanel shouldn’t be faking Swiss scenes at shows in Paris. They could be doing shows here, in Kristalldorf! If I could just get in and have a closer look…’
‘What about the Anna Maria?’
‘Oh please! You know Vivian and I can’t work together. And she’s completely taken over anyway… But those chalets, Zand, they could get ten K a night, at least! And it’s not like Papa to waste a money-making opportunity. Whydid he buy them just to leave them barely used and vacant for the best part of a decade?’
Lysander did wonder why his father’s spite ran so deep.
‘Anyway, talk about cutting off your nose…’ Anastasia lamented.
‘So why don’t you tell him about your brilliant ideas?’
Lysander felt bad that Walter was thinking of leaving the running of the empire to their baby sister when, perhaps, Anastasia could do something brilliant with the Seven Summits properties. Perhaps their father could carve up the business: leave different hotels and properties to different heirs, rather than leave it all to Vivian and cause immense upset. Perhaps Lysander could find a way to manage certain elements from overseas. What if Vivian got the hotels, Anastasia Seven Summits, and he got the mountain train? Maybe even Caspian would want in– he wouldn’t want to bum around surfing forever, would he?
‘If only Papa would listen to me…’ Anastasia lamented. ‘He’s so distracted at the moment. I don’t know if it’s turning seventy, or…’ she scrunched up her face, ‘Kiki. But he’s so hard to talk to these days.’
Lysander had noticed at the wedding. His father had seemed agitated. Troubled.
‘What does Dimitri think?’
‘Oh you know, Dimitri goes along with anything I want,’ she said, with disdain.
At that they were interrupted by an angry voice shouting from the hallway.
‘Who the fuck do you think you are? Where is she?’
It was Vivian, fuming, entering the room with the butler behind her, carrying a silver platter with two negronis on it.
‘Miss Vivian…’ he said, following her trail, trying to slow her down.
Anastasia and Lysander looked at each other, Lysander stood up. Vivian’s pretty, sweet face was contorted into a livid scowl. Anastasia stood upright, on guard next to the fireplace.
‘What?’ she said, features defiant.
‘You fired Michael, the best sommelier in the canton– dammit the best in Switzerland– why?’
Vivian was jabbing a finger at Anastasia, who had never seen her calm sister lose her temper like this.
‘OK Vivi, don’t get your bloomers in a twist.’
