“My father had a heart attack too. It’s tough to see someone strong laid low,” he said. “I met Nate and his father at the Northeastern Hospitality Conference. Sam seemed like a fighter to me. He’ll get through it.”
Paulson might be more handsome than his profile picture, but chitchat wasn’t on her agenda today.
“So, can I help you with anything, Mr. Carter? Maybe directions back to Portland?”
“You can call me Paulson. Mr. Carter is my father.” He corrected her with a drop-dead gorgeous smile. “If you have time, I’d love a tour. But if you’re busy, I can explore it myself.”
With a smile like that, Paulson was hard to turn down. It seemed he knew Sam. He must be on the calendar for a reason. Maybe Nate wanted his advice on how to modernize. The walk would be a good way to get ideas from a hotel professional. Besides, it was a pleasant morning, and Casper loved new people. Anything to help him perk up sounded like a good idea.
As if he heard her thoughts, Casper plodded outside and sniffed their visitor. Paulson kneeled and rubbed Casper’s chest. At last, a guy with a soft spot for dogs.
“I hope it’s okay if Casper tags along. Word of warning, he’s not very well trained.” Avery hoped Miles wasn’t within earshot to hear her vindicate his feelings.
“Of course,” Paulson said, scratching the dog’s ears. “Who says you’re not trained? Casper’s a good boy.”
Paulson had a special voice for dogs. Even better.
Avery and Casper led Paulson down the path that ran between two cabins to the lake. Every few steps, he lifted his phone and snapped a photo.
“Do they host weddings here?” he asked.
“Um, not that I know of, but I bet they could if you’re interested.”
“Well, I’d need to find the bride first.” He let out an uncomfortable chuckle and blushed a little.
She nervously lifted her hand, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. Paulson seemed like someone who’d marry a travel influencer. They could share their love of hotels on blogs, vlogs, and socials. Fiancée or not, he’d given her an idea. Montressa was the perfect venue for destination weddings.
“A lot of our families come back every year,” she said.
Paulson stopped and stared at the sun-dappled lake. His jaw went slack. Like a siren from a Greek epic tale, Linden Lake had a way of transfixing anyone who passed by and he was no exception. The spring birdsong from the neighboring trees only enhanced the experience.
“Gorgeous.” He smiled. “I see why people love it here.”
Ah, so he understood what made this lake special.
“I’m curious.” He narrowed his eyes as if interested in her opinion. “Montressa has almost no online presence. Is that to keep it exclusive? If it works, it’s genius. I love the feeling of having something everybody wants but can’t find.”
Exclusivity may not have been the Coopers’ intent, but Paulson had a point. Purposeful or not, being hard to find wasn’t helping reservations. Nate needed to expand his opportunities, not limit them. Avery wished she’d brought something to make notes of all of these great ideas.
“They rely on repeat bookings and word of mouth,” she answered. “Everyone has a story of how they found Montressa. Their kids go to camp nearby, their grandparents honeymooned here, a friend recommended it.”
“I first heard about it from a Yale friend. Well, classmate.”
She wondered if Miles had ever mentioned her once he returned to school after the breakup. Telling Paulson she dated Miles back in college felt a little too familiar, so she kept quiet. Oblivious to her thoughts,Paulson stared at the lodge, deep in thought.
“I like the rustic feel, but if it were mine, I’d tear it down and start fresh.”
Avery gasped and lifted her hand to her heart. She searched his face for a sarcastic smirk or teasing wink, but his eyes narrowed and his mouth twisted in thought. Maybe he didn’t understand the allure after all.
“What? Why?”
“It reminds me of the camp fromThe Parent Trapwith all these log cabins. People want modern amenities. Being suitable only for summer isn’t maximizing the location’s full potential.” He raised a hand and skimmed it across his view. “Imagine a glass-front, modern hotel and matching glass-front villas, all with views of this spectacular lake. Cross-country ski trails, a skating pond, a row of lakeside cabanas with hot tubs over the water, a Jet Ski marina. All less than an hour from the Portland Jetport. Being open year-round brings steadier jobs to the people who live here.”
Avery envisioned overcrowded beaches, noisy Jet Skis. No more cookouts and bonfires. The loons would lose their home. A sting rose in her throat. That would ruin this place. She loved the historic lodge and log cabins. Guests used to say Montressa reminded them of a summer camp for adults. You couldn’t manufacture that kind of nostalgia. She tucked the loose piece of hair back again and stood straighter.
“I love it the way it is.”
Paulson silently continued down the path. And she wondered if he’d been trying out his ideas to get her thoughts. And why was hein the area? No one came to the lake a month before opening day without a reason.
