CHAPTER SIX
MATEO
BUT THERE’S NO GOING AROUND Elizabeth. I realize that soon after Taylor leaves my place and I pick up the phone to call Damon. The phone is in my hand, finger poised over the touchscreen, when I see the big flaw in our plans.
I can try to convince Damon that what I’m doing is ultimately what Elizabeth wants even if she doesn’t know it, but at some point, she’ll be asked to ratify. I see where Taylor’s going, and this little realization doesn’t change the fact that it’s my best shot. He probably saw this coming but left out this wrinkle on purpose. Because it’s not a deal-breaker. It’s just extremely unpleasant.
I call Damon anyway, after composing a few mental scripts. We go through our usual banter because by now we might as well be old friends, but Damon cuts to the chase. Elizabeth won’t sell. I don’t bother to point out that it’s not her choice because that’s something Damon knows. The man won’t upset his daughter, and there’s nothing I can do to change it.
“Look,” I tell him. “I’ve crunched the numbers. You’ve told me a lot of what I need to know yourself, and the rest I guessed. Based on what I see here, even with conservative estimates, you’re barely staying afloat.”
“We’ve talked about this,” he says.
“Yes, but we haven’t really talked, have we? Forget about emotions, or what any of us want. The cold, hard facts, on paper, are that the resort loses money every year. Tell me if I’m wrong.”
Damon sighs. Of course, I’m right. I know all of the resort’s expenses because Damon gave them to me for due diligence. I’ve been back half a dozen times over a six-month period, and not once have I seen more than ten percent of the homes occupied. Unless Damon is cooking meth up there, there’s no way the resort’s income is covering the cost of staff, grounds maintenance, repairs, and property taxes. It’s a hole in his wallet. He’s kept it open because he has his inheritance and a profitable business away from the mountain. He’s kept it open by sheer will, mostly to keep his daughter happy.
“Being right doesn’t change anything.”
“Damon, you need to face facts. You’re not a young man. I think we both know Elizabeth isn’t going to take the place over from you.”
“She says she has a plan. She wants to run a school or something?” I can almost picture him scratching his head.
“You don’t even know what it is. A school or something? Even if it is a school, the idea doesn’t make sense. Schools aren’t generally profitable institutions. And atop a mountain?”
I want to add: She has no idea what it takes to build something in the real world because she’s been spoiled her whole life. But I don’t.
“She’s smarter than you’d think.”
I have serious doubts, but I counter in a way Damon can’t argue with. “Smarts don’t pay the bills.”
“I can make up the shortfall until …” He gropes for a way to end the sentence. I see my opportunity.
“Until when, Damon? What’s her business plan? Have you seen it? What’s her profit model? A lot of businesses run in the red for a while. How long does she anticipate it taking before she’s in the black?”
“I don’t know the details.”
“I doubt she knows the details. She danced around the specifics when I asked her at lunch.”
Damon laughs. “That’s not necessarily the reason. I just got the impression that she really, really didn’t like you.”
“Is that a rational way to run a business? I had legitimate questions. As I’m sure you have. But — and no offense to Elizabeth; she’s probably very capable, but it sounds to me like she has a dream more than a plan. She just wants to keep owning the mountain. I don’t think she’s thought much further than that, at least not in any detail.”
“Well—”
“Damon. There are a lot of things here we can both guess at. We have a lot of maybes to accompany our ambitions, promises, and vague ideas. But beyond that, there are the facts that no one can deny. You’re losing money every year, and you have no plans or ambition to change that. You have to run it yourself. And you’re tired. It’s just too big a parcel to own, and the resort barely counts as a business. It’s a few nice rentals, but even those are costing you — the property taxes are killer versus what you’d have if you’d just built dinky log cabins. I think you know that you’ll have to sell within five years. Selling to Elizabeth doesn’t count unless she pays full market value because if you give it to her or sell it cheap, the situation isn’t fixed.”
“Mateo …”
“I, on the other hand, am willing to pay above market value. You can walk away from this with no worries and a heap of cash. The mountain itself is useless to you. But what could you do with a big payout?” I pause for effect. “What if you used that money — the money you get from me — to fund Elizabeth’s school or whatever?”
Silence on the line. Perhaps that was unfair. By repeating Damon’s ambivalent phrasing for Elizabeth’s supposed project, I’m reminding him that he, himself, doesn’t believe it’ll ever become a thing of value.
“These are facts, Damon. Not thoughts or guesses or notions. When we focus on the facts — the things you and I know for certain — the truth is that one day soon, you’ll be forced to sell the property. When the hole gets deep enough, and things get bad enough, and your renters dry up, it won’t be a choice. It won’t be Mateo Saint coming by, and you deciding whether or not you want to let him have it. It’ll be something you have to do. And if we both know that your family can’t hold onto this place forever, then why are we negotiating as if you can?”
He takes a while before responding. “Elizabeth’s idea—”
“Might be great. But she can’t even tell you her timeframe. Whatever she wants to create, it doesn’t have to be on this enormous, sprawling mountain. It could be built anywhere. Even on a smaller mountain property, where she doesn’t have to own and maintain the entire thing. And her chances of making this work … are they better if she’s starting with a cushion, which will happen if I pay you what this property is worth? Or if she builds here, on land that’s losing money — starting out with a handicap instead of an advantage?”
I let this sink in. Then I drop my last hammer.
“Look. You know me. I told you my vision, and you said it’s noble. I know you believe I’ll take care of the land. I won’t sell it for condos. To be blunt, I don’t need the money. I’m a billionaire who can afford to throw his money away. I won’t sell logging rights or bring in developers. You want to honor the land? Well, I’m your best bet. It’s a far better choice than continuing to bury your head in the sand, losing money and years of life until you’re forced to sell to someone who will never respect the mountain like I will.”
“You’re right,” he finally says. “There’s every reason to sell.”
“It’s what Elizabeth would want, too, if she were willing to admit it.”
“I don’t know. She really seemed to hate you.” He laughs a little, so I know that while the sentiment is probably true, Damon’s not thinking of derailing this deal because of it.
I savor this moment because it’s exactly what Taylor was pushing me toward. Talk to Elizabeth through Damon. Convince her through him. It’s what I’ve done, and I’ve done it well.
Except here comes that bit that Taylor didn’t mention. The unpleasant catch.
We can’t just sidestep around Elizabeth. Even her father won’t proceed with this “it’s what she wants” scenario without telling her. Without involving her. Without me having to somehow deal with that bitch all over again.
I shiver, knowing what Damon’s about to say.
“I agree with everything you said. It’s all true. Logically. So okay. Yes. I will sell you the property. We’re going to do this.”
But …
“But I won’t do this behind Elizabeth’s back or have her mad at me forever over it. This mountain means a lot to her. It’s part of our history. I’ll tell Elizabeth that the deal is on, but before we make it official, I need you to do something for me.”
I close my eyes. “You want me to meet with her again.”
“Close,” Damon says. “I need you to show her that you’re not … whatever it is she thinks you are. I like you, Mateo. I believe it when you say you’ll honor the land and our legacy. Elizabeth might even come to see that in time, but not right now. Because right now, she’s blind. I don’t know what went wrong when you two met for lunch, but I do know it needs fixing.”
Eyes still closed, I say, “Okay. How?”
“Meet her again. After I talk to her and I swear up and down that you two just got off on the wrong foot. I’m going to make some big promises, Mateo. I’m going to talk you up. I need you to honor those promises as much as the land. I need you to be nice when you meet her.”
Fuck. That’s not going to work. Probably because she’s a sniveling, privileged, spoiled brat.
“Okay,” is all I can say.
“But she’s particular. It will be hard to make her like you without some creative positioning.”
“You want me to lie to her.”
“I want you to be careful to show her your very best side.”
“Or in other words, to just suck it up and do whatever she says.” I look at the ceiling. “I’m not comfortable with this, Damon.”
“You have to be. It’s my only condition. I want her at least a little on board with you as the new owner, Mateo. I want my little girl feeling good if this is going to happen. I need your word that you’ll do your best.”
To what? Be a Ken doll for Elizabeth to pose however she’d like? Become a hollow shell, smiling at whatever elitist, classist, prejudiced things that come out of her mouth?
“You have my word,” I tell him.
“Be whatever person she wants you to be,” Damon says, “as long as it makes her happy.”