by Unknown
She winked. “And maybe even the occasional joint.”
Wyatt chuckled. “Jesus, you’re tough! You don’t like your current hotel guests much, do you?”
“I love them, Wyatt. Because the ones we have right now are prepared to pay 500 dollars a night to pretend they’re big shots. But, that market won’t sustain us. Every time there’s a stock market crash or a real estate trough, the fake wealth dries up and our occupancy rates drop down to forty percent.
“We’ve put too many eggs in one basket. We need more baskets, more sustainable baskets. Clientele who absolutely refuse to pay more than 200 dollars a night, because they’re the ones who don’t need to show off. Some of these people actually prefer to stay at bed and breakfasts—we’re missing out on those people. They’re the ones who have real money, and probably even keep some of it under their mattresses. Money that’s not subject to being torn apart by market meltdowns.”
Willy nodded eagerly. “What you’re saying makes sense. A very smart strategic direction, I think.”
“Thank you, Willy. Yes, we think it will give us a sustainable competitive advantage over our competitors. And, as far as what you’ll see with the hotel we’ll build here, I want it to mirror some of these lovely heritage buildings you have. I want it to have an ‘old’ look, a character look. It will be tasteful, charming, and will be an absolute magnet for the kind of guests we want to attract.”
There was silence around the picnic table, as the three of them absorbed all that Allison had said. Wyatt knew that the other two were just as impressed with her as he was—she was clearly an intelligent lady. Allison may have inherited the hotel chain, but she had definite ideas of her own that Wyatt thought bordered on brilliant.
Willy then asked the question that was on all of their lips.
“How does my sculpture fit into this?”
“I’ve seen your sculpture pictured in a couple of magazines and, of course, I’ve seen many of your other works in person all over Canada and the United States. But, I think the draft-dodger sculpture is one of the most amazing, most powerful, statues I’ve ever seen. I want to see it in person while I’m here. Are you okay with that, Willy?”
“Absolutely.”
“If my view of it in person matches the enthusiasm I have for it from the pictures I’ve seen, I propose that it be mounted right in front of the hotel. As guests pull up along a circular driveway, it would be featured in a little park area that the driveway encircles. With water fountains, the whole nine yards. Does that sound good to you?”
“I’d be thrilled.”
“Well, I’m hoping something else will thrill you, too. With the marketing campaign I’m thinking of, I’d like you to be the spokesperson for the hotel. TV, print ads, everything. The whole idea of this hotel will be to attract American guests of the type I described—as well as Canadians and those from other countries, too, of course.
“But, I want us to capitalize on Nelson being the center that attracted and retained most of the draft-dodgers. The people who made Nelson the beautiful, peaceful community it is today.
“And, you, Willy, have the good looks and the healthy build that belie your age. You’re the symbol of what made this community strong, when the dodgers came here forty-five years ago. You’re a marketer’s dream for a project like this.”
Willy scratched his head and thought in silence for about a minute.
“Well, I’m thrilled. To be an active part of my sculpture’s purpose is an opportunity I never would have imagined. But, Allison, you know that I’m not really a draft-dodger, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. You were drafted to fight in the Korean War; you were too old to be drafted for Vietnam. But, you snuck into Canada along with the dodgers because you didn’t want your son to ever risk being drafted. You came here in sympathy for the Nam dodgers, but also for a safe future for your family.
“It’s even more important to us that we have a spokesperson like you. The dodgers themselves never actually fought in a war. They left before they were drafted. But you…you went through a draft. You’re someone who was actually drafted and was forced to fight in a war. A war that, like Vietnam, no one could figure out why we were even there.”
Willy nodded slowly. “Yes, and like Nam, the Korean War was another one with no victory. We never seem to win wars, but we sure know how to send our kids off to be killed in them.”
“So, Willy, what do you say?”
He looked at Wyatt. Wyatt smiled and winked at him.
“Okay, I’m in. For an old bugger like me, kind of an exciting last chapter of my life.”
Allison clapped her hands again.
“Oh, I’m so happy! And, I think you have a lot of chapters still left in your life. I mean, just look at you. Most people wouldn’t guess your age as being older than around sixty.”
Willy laughed. “Just good genes, I guess.”
Allison leaned across the picnic table and held out her hand. “Let’s shake on it.”
Willy shook her hand vigorously. He was more excited than Wyatt had seen him in years.
Murray injected himself back into the conversation. “Allison, it might be helpful to have the mayor of Nelson appear in some of your TV ads. I’ll be available anytime you need me.”
Wyatt rolled his eyes. Allison smiled respectfully.
She turned her attention back to Willy.
“So, next steps. I’ll want to see that wonderful sculpture in person.
“And, since you’ll be groomed towards being our spokesperson for this new boutique hotel, I’ll need to assure myself of your health before I put you under retainer. I promise that it will be uneventful and, of course, you and I will talk about the financial terms of that retainer once I’m satisfied on the health front.”
Wyatt frowned. “I don’t understand, Allison. What do you mean?”
“Just a health check—verification that Willy’s as healthy as he looks. It’s very routine—nothing invasive. Remember, we’re making an investment in Willy and we have to know that he’s not going to drop dead on us after we’ve spent a small fortune on advertising.”
“Well, my dad can easily get that check-up done. We’ll just have our family doctor give him a clean bill of health.”
Allison shook her head. “No, it’s corporate policy that we use our own doctors. We actually do these check-ups for all of our executives, too.”
“Well, okay, just send them up and my dad can schedule it with them.”
She shook her head again.
“No, if you don’t mind the inconvenience, we have our own clinic that we use. Down in the Atlanta area.
“Don’t be scared by what I’m going to say, but the clinic is in the same complex as the Centers for Disease Control. That just happens to be where it is. A beautiful complex and there are actually quite a few other clinics that rent space there, too, not just us.”
Wyatt just looked at her. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. But, at the same time, he considered that maybe this was just how most big corporations did things these days. It was probably way above his paygrade.
Willy looked at his son and just laughed. “Hey, Wyatt, I’ve always wanted to visit Atlanta. And, guess what? One of my sculptures is on display at a museum there. It’ll be a good opportunity to see if my clients got their money’s worth when they paid my exorbitant fee!”
Chapter 11
The Kootenay Palace was exactly the kind of hotel Allison would never build. Situated along the lake, north of Nelson, it was the antithesis of what she envisioned a hotel should be.
It was nice enough, certainly attractive to look at, and had every facility that the bored traveler could ever want. But, in her view, it was shallow and cold. Why hotels located in a paradise like the Kootenays needed bars and casinos, was beyond her comprehension.
But, that was what the majority of travelers wanted these days—and in fact most of the four hundred hotels in Allison’s chain were equipped in exact
ly that same way.
That had been her father’s vision, not hers. She had inherited the results of that vision, but she didn’t intend to stay on that path and build just more of the same old, same old.
No, from now on, she would build the hotels she wanted to build, and gradually transform the image of Diamond Hotels into something really special, really unique.
Her brother, who owned forty-nine percent of the shares in the company, would just go along. He pretty much always agreed with whatever Allison wanted to do, and she was convinced he was secretly relieved that their dad’s last will and testament had given her fifty-one percent and controlling interest. Robert liked to defer—in fact, he preferred it that way.
She loved her brother dearly, but he could never be counted upon to take the initiative with anything. Decisions were not his strong suit. He leaned on Allison for everything, which in one way was flattering. But, he leaned on everyone that way, so it didn’t really make Allison feel all that special. He was just that way. The family genes must have taken an extended vacation when Robert was created.
While Allison didn’t respect people who were like that—in fact, she thought it was kind of pathetic—she was inwardly glad that Robert was that way. It gave her total freedom, and an absolute reign over the company that she might not have had otherwise.
People like her brother were indeed good to have as partners if you had no other choice but to have partners. And, in her case, she had no choice. Her father’s will had dictated that.
Robert had two children—a boy and a girl. Allison loved her nephew and niece. Both were in their early twenties now, and either one would be great additions to the company. They both had the traditional Fisher brain cells; cells that seemed to have bypassed her brother.
But, only one was suited to being her eventual successor in Majestic 12.
Brother Robert knew nothing about Majestic 12. When Allison’s father had decided that she would be his successor in the group, they both agreed that Robert could never be a part of the chain of succession. He just wasn’t smart enough, decisive enough, or tough enough. They decided to wait until one of Robert’s kids reached an age where they could be assessed.
Allison had finished that assessment now in her mind.
It would be Tim, the eldest. He was the anointed one.
And, one day, after he’d finished university and she got him settled into an executive position with Diamond, she’d orientate him into the secret society. He would be sworn to an oath and her brother would never know a thing.
Tim was smart; he had a mind that was not only logical but forward-thinking. Nothing was an obstacle to Tim—if there was something in his way, he always found a route around it. He had done that all the way through school, and in every sport he’d taken on. He excelled at virtually everything and had the determination of a lion.
To be fair, Tanya was identical in those respects, too. Allison’s niece had all those same qualities, so it was close to being a coin toss between the two of them. But, she’d leaned in favor of Tim, because he had a quality that Tanya didn’t seem to have. A quality that Allison’s dad had possessed, and one that Allison had, too.
Humanity.
Tim cared about people, and always committed himself to doing the right thing. Just like her father had. And, just like Allison always had.
Despite the rigors of the business world and the cutthroat aspects that every successful person had to have the stomach for, Allison believed that retaining your sense of humanity was essential. That quality could never be allowed to get lost in the shuffle of cards.
People always tended to hire and promote in their own likeness—which sometimes wasn’t a good thing, because companies could end up being staffed with a bunch of clones of the CEO. But, Allison always accepted that risk. She wanted her executives to be just like her.
And, she wanted her successor on Majestic 12 to be just like her. The one quality she wanted to bring to Majestic 12 was ‘humanity.’
With the absolute power possessed by that group, humane considerations had to be maintained as much as possible. Despite the mindboggling secrets the group was privy to, and despite the brutal things they had authorized from time to time, Allison thought that some sense of humanity had always been brought to the table.
By her father…and, for the last five years, by her.
Allison’s work on Majestic 12 was probably one of the reasons she didn’t sleep very well. Some of the actions she had knowledge of always kept popping back into her head, being replayed over and over.
She had always been well removed from those actions, of course, because none of the members of Majestic 12 ever got their hands dirty. But, knowing about them was enough to cause her to toss and turn in bed at night.
Even though the people who had been killed had been a danger.
Not that they were bad people, they were just…dangerous. Unstable, and insufferably idealistic. Sometimes, otherwise decent people had to die for the greater good. Because they knew too much and weren’t realistic, and were reckless enough to want to wreak havoc upon society.
At least that was the way Allison rationalized it all, and she knew that’s the way her dad had rationalized it, too. And, his father before him. They’d had no choice. It was a sacred trust thrust upon chosen ones. And, guilt could prey upon a person if there wasn’t a way to rationalize things.
The problem was that it wasn’t like a normal job. No one could resign from Majestic 12 out of conscience or indignation. They couldn’t escape to Canada like the draft-dodgers had. There was no way to escape and, aside from being declared mentally incompetent or demented, there was only one way out. And, that was down…six feet down.
Which was probably why Allison slept so little and sometimes just gave up on her bed and ended up on the floor staring out at the stars. Thinking and wondering, but also knowing that the less people knew, the better. What was the point of scaring people half to death? It was a burden for those who knew. They almost felt like protectors. At certain moments, though, Allison wondered what gave them the right. If it affected their lives, didn’t people have the right to be scared?
Her dad had suffered from the same affliction. She rationalized that things got to him, too, probably because of that humanity quality they shared. Things got really bad for him in the months leading up to his death. He got progressively worse, and far more irritable. Her mom told Allison that he’d started taking Prozac.
Diagnosed with depression.
Allison wasn’t supposed to know, and her mom made her promise never to let her dad know that she knew.
He’d be so ashamed. He believed so much in mental strength.
The lack of sleep and the medication he’d been taking must have contributed to the car crash. He must have indeed fallen asleep at the wheel and drove them all off the cliff.
Allison couldn’t accept that it might have been suicide, even though there were whispers to that effect. She knew her dad’s heart, knew his humanity, and knew that he could never do a selfish thing like take his own life. And, he certainly would never have taken his wife and son-in-law with him. That theory made no sense.
But, the accident still haunted her. The three people she’d loved the most were lost to her in an instant.
She snapped out of her daydream and looked around room 207 at the Kootenay Palace.
Plush pillows, elegant drapes, and grass-cloth wallpaper. Berber carpeting on the floor, and recliner chairs that just begged to be reclined on.
Allison threw herself backwards onto the bed. Yep, even had the obligatory ‘heavenly mattress.’
She reluctantly allowed her eyes to wander in the direction of the hotel phone, then glanced at her watch.
Time for that phone call. To a person she never looked forward to talking to.
Chad Powers—the power hungry Napoleon, the current head of Majestic 12. Leadership duties rotated amongst the twelve members, and leaders served terms of seven years and only sev
en years. Then, they reverted back to being just one of the twelve again once a new leader took over.
Chad Powers had just begun his seventh and final year.
Allison was next in line. The Majestic-elect.
It was a heavy burden to bear for anyone who became the ‘Head Majestic.’ Except for Chad Powers. He revelled in it.
Allison dialed the number.
“Powers, here.”
“Hi Chad. It’s me.”
“Been waiting to hear from you. How’d it go?”
“Went fine. My pitch went over well, I think. They’re all pretty excited here about the prospects of the kind of project I presented to them. I meet with city council tomorrow, and then the next day I’ll visit William Carson at his house. To take a look at his sculpture.”
“One thing is certain, Allison, you’re a masterful presenter. You could sell igloos to Eskimos.”
“Well, this is truly ‘God’s country.’ A little gem in a world of jagged rocks. It deserves the kind of hotel I talked to them about.”
“So, they bought the charade.”
“Hook, line, and sinker.”
“Okay, that’s good. Next steps?”
“I convinced William about the need to fly him down to Atlanta for some medical tests. He didn’t seem at all suspicious. He agreed that I needed the assurance that his health is solid.”
“Good. Let me know when he can fly down and I’ll have the team here prepared.”
“I will. But, you have to promise me one thing, Chad.”
“What’s that?”
“You have to give me your word that this dear man will not be harmed.”
Allison heard an exasperated sigh.
“I don’t have to promise you anything. Are you forgetting who I am? You don’t take over the helm for another year. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“Chad, I’m recording this conversation. I want your word. If I don’t get it, I’m going to tell the city council tomorrow that I’ve changed my mind on the hotel project. And, then, of course, there will be no need for Carson to visit Atlanta. You’ll have to figure out another way to get him there.”