“There’s something else,” Dad said suddenly, looking up from the papers. “Something you’re not telling me about this sudden change of heart.”
I shrugged. “I fell in love with the place,” I said simply.
“Ah,” he said quietly. “That explains a great deal.”
“Does it change anything?” I asked.
“Love makes people do foolish things,” he said finally. “It clouds judgment. Leads to poor business decisions.”
My heart sank, but he wasn’t finished.
“You haven’t worked alongside me in the company, so I haven’t had the chance to really train you. One of the most important rules of business is to never let your emotions get involved. Never mix your personal life with your professional. I’m going to assume there’s a woman involved. That’s a mistake.”
I had to tamp down my anger. “I just presented you with a good, solid business plan. That has nothing to do with a woman. You know it’s a good plan.”
“It would be a good plan if we weren’t looking at another opportunity that provides ten times the revenue.”
I closed my eyes and did my best to control my anger. “You know what? Forget it. I’m done.”
“Kent, don’t be dramatic.”
“No, I’m done.” I could hear my voice rising, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. “I spent a week putting that proposal together. I thought maybe—just maybe—you might actually consider doing something decent for once.”
Dad rose from his chair, his hands raised in what might have been a placating gesture. “Son, sit down. Let’s discuss this rationally.”
“Rationally?” I laughed. “You want to talk rationally about destroying people’s lives for oil money? About tearing apart a community that’s existed for generations because it’s more profitable than actually building something worthwhile?”
“This is exactly what I’m talking about,” he said, his voice taking on that lecturing tone I heard a thousand times growing up. “You’re letting emotion cloud your business judgment. Infive years, you won’t even remember the name of this place or these people who have you so worked up.”
The casual dismissal of everything that had come to matter to me pissed me off. I felt frustration and grief.
“I’m leaving,” I announced.
“Where are you going?”
I just shook my head. “None of your fucking business.”
CHAPTER 51
SYLVIE
Christmas Eve was still a few days away, but I was already running on fumes. The past week had been a whirlwind of last-minute preparations. The lodge was about three quarters full, which was good, but not great. And I had to remind myself it didn’t matter if we were full any longer.
The end was near.
Nothing would change that fact.
That was what gave me the energy to get my butt out of bed every morning. I wanted to make sure we went out with a bang. I wanted everyone that had stayed at our lodge to look back with fond memories and maybe a little regret and frustration. That was petty but I didn’t care. I was feeling petty. If more people would have come, we wouldn’t be losing everything.
But it wasn’t our current guests’ fault. I had to keep that in mind. They were here and they deserved a magical holiday. I was going to make it happen, even if it was the final one.
My feet ached from standing all day, my hands felt like they were in the permanent claw position from hanging decorations, and I was pretty sure I’d been surviving on nothing but coffee and determination for the past forty-eight hours.
But I managed to make the most of it all. Every guest room was perfectly appointed, every meal had been flawless, and our Christmas Eve celebration was going to be magical. I could cry the day after Christmas if I needed to. Right now, I just had to keep moving forward.
One foot in front of the other. No time for sadness.
“Here,” I said and handed Brom the new string of lights.
