Sweetheart Deal

by Linda Joffe Hull

  A place to create family memories …

  Somewhere we’ll look forward to returning year after year …

  Has to be by the beach …

  I wasn’t sure whether it was Alejandro’s charming manners—starting with whether I wanted to sit in the sun or shade—the way the staff seemed to be at extra attention in his presence, his seemingly earnest interest in my growing notoriety as Mrs. Frugalicious, or those delicious margaritas, but the camera crew seemed to vanish. Despite the multiple takes, out-of-sequence shots, and other assorted realities of reality television, we might as well have been all alone together as we ventured back indoors for a whirlwind tour of everything from Sushi Especia, one of the six internationally themed, on-premise restaurants, to Serenidad, the plush state-of-the-art spa and fitness facility. More impressive than the various amenities were the guest rooms—all suites, and all boasting living rooms filled with designer furniture and bathrooms filled with marble fixtures and high-end appliances.

  “Our beds have high thread count Egyptian cotton sheets and your choice of pillows,” Alejandro said with a wry smile as he followed me into the bedroom. “And a specially made mattress so comfortable that guests often claim they’ve never enjoyed anywhere they’ve spent the night more.”

  I willed myself not to think about how long it had been since I’d actually enjoyed spending the night in my own bedroom.

  Much less anywhere else …

  The remainder of the tour was something of a blur as we wove around the never-ending mosaic-lined swimming pools featuring everything from submerged chaises to swim-up bars, past the championship golf course, and out to a stretch of soft white sand that looked out onto the impossibly blue waters of the Mayan Riviera.

  “Delightful,” Alejandro said. “Yes?”

  So were the undertones of his spicy yet subtle cologne as I followed him into the resort sales office.

  Vacation ownership at the luxe Hacienda de la Fortuna had to come with a steep price tag, so I expected to see a room full of uncomfortable presentees, all seated in defensive positions, looking nervously at one another, arms and legs crossed, the women clutching their handbags, and the men looking down at their feet. Instead, prospective buyers seemed downright relaxed as they sipped on cocktails, nibbled on snacks, and chatted with well-dressed salespeople.

  As Alejandro led me toward his office on the other side of the sales floor, he stopped to check in at various conversation clusters.

  “How has your experience with us been so far?”

  “Wonderful,” said an older lady. “Antonio here is taking wonderful care of me.”

  Antonio, who looked like Alejandro’s slightly swarthy brother, gave her a playful wink. “Tell me, are you staying in an ocean or courtyard room?”

  “Courtyard,” she said.

  “How about we upgrade this fine lady so she can enjoy the view?” he said.

  “Done,” Alejandro said.

  “Wow,” she said. “Thank you.”

  “Wow is right,” I said, after watching Alejandro proceed to authorize a free boat tour pass for one family and stop to pour a congratulatory glass of champagne from the signing bottle of another on our way to his glass-walled office. “I can’t imagine how this could be any more—”

  “Pleasant?” he asked as he motioned me to sit and an assistant appeared with snack and beverage cart. “That’s how we roll around here.”

  The presentation itself lasted far longer than it was supposed to, but the time somehow flew by as I sipped on a fresh margarita. Alejandro covered everything from a brief history of the resort to a detailed explanation of the exchange program that allowed owners to trade their vacation time at Hacienda de la Fortuna with resorts all over the world.

  “Certainly in Hawaii and the Bahamas,” he said, recounting the spots I’d mentioned over lunch as destinations I most wanted to visit.

  “So I can trade my week here for—?”

  “A romantic getaway to Bora Bora,” he said. “If that’s what you desire.”

  I looked down and fiddled with my ring so neither the camera nor Alejandro could see my expression. “I can’t imagine anyone desiring anything more than what you’re offering here.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way,” Alejandro said.

  “I guess it all comes down to cost …” I mumbled, “versus benefits.”

  “Which we have in abundance,” he said.

  I looked up and our eyes met again.

  Alejandro pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. “Given everything you’ve told me about your lifestyle and vacation habits, I hope you will allow me to presume that your family would be most interested in a three-bedroom unit you’d use for two weeks a year?”

  “Theoretically,” I said. “But—”

  “You don’t usually get away for two consecutive weeks and, because of your schedules, it’s hard to know exactly when you’ll be able to take that time off?”

  “Exactly,” I said, impressed by just how attentive he’d been and how fuzzy I was starting to feel. “And depending on—”

  “A price that would satisfy the very bargain-wise Mrs. Frugalicious?” he said, jotting down a number on the notepad, which he proceeded to slide across his desk.

  “Wow!” I said, putting down my drink and confirming the lack of zeros on the page. “This is all it costs for two weeks a year in a three-bedroom unit?”

  “I’ve quoted the bottom-line price for what are known as floating weeks, which will exclude certain high-traffic times of the year, but yes.”

  “But—?”

  “What point would there be in playing price games with you, of all people?” he asked. “We both know the true investment lies in the vacation—the fun and memories created by spending time in any number of great places we can offer you as a vacation property owner.”

  “True,” I managed.

  “How about I give you a few minutes to think it over?”

  “That would be great,” I said, picking up a conveniently placed calculator and pretending to crunch a number or two of my own.

  “Cut,” Geo said.

  We set up for the shot again, and once again I found myself sharing my cue-card prompted thoughts:

  “Like most people, I agreed to this whole timeshare presentation business for the perks I was promised in exchange for ninety minutes of my precious vacation time. I mean, what are the chances that I, Mrs. Frugalicious, would spring for such a big-ticket item without doing extensive background research first? Here’s the thing, though …”

  I read the next line I was supposed to recite: This feels like it may be too good a deal to pass up!

  I signaled Geo to stop shooting. “Hold up.”

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “This all looks great and everything, but I haven’t done any real research on timeshares and—”

  “One step ahead of you,” he said, handing me an article entitled Ten Tips for Your Timeshare Presentation. “Look it over and let’s get on with it.”

  I scanned a few of the bolded points:

  —Even though you may have agreed to the timeshare presentation simply for the perks and upgrades, take the tour with sincere interest.

  —Location is key. If you plan to trade or exchange timeshare locations, especially in desirable areas, you need to own in an area that has high year-round, global demand.

  —The average timeshare purchase is roughly $15,000 to $20,000. Upscale units are in the upper $20,000s to low $40,000s. There’s also an average yearly maintenance fee that can run anywhere from $250 to $1,000.

  —Assume approximately 20 years of use and determine the true cost per week by adding annual fees to annual amortized cost, factoring in the number of weeks per year.

  “This is informative,” I said, noting that I was supposed to, ask questions so the salesman recognizes you’re too savvy to fall for anything short of a great deal. “But I should still do some more in-depth research if I’m actually going to go ahead a
nd sign something.”

  “No need,” Geo said. “The timeshare was pre-negotiated as part of the deal we made with the resort.”

  “I still have to pay—”

  “Nothing!”

  “W-What?”

  “Just another benefit of being the star of The Family Frugalicious!”

  “Oh,” I said.

  “More like, olé!”

  With that, Alejandro stepped back into the room, champagne bottle in hand, and the camera was back on.

  “Ready to celebrate?” he asked, with an expectant smile. A smile shared by Geo, the cameraman, the cue card holder—everyone.

  Everyone but me.

  All I had to do was sign on the (inevitable variety of) dotted line(s) that would materialize before me and we would own two weeks of paradise.

  In perpetuity …

  And all for the unheard of price of absolutely nothing, assuming the annual maintenance fee was included.

  But, as light-headed as I felt from the alcohol and the possibility of having my own free dream-vacation spot, I couldn’t sign up for what seemed to be the most satisfying of frugasms5 without making sure I wasn’t violating the greatest commandment of bargain shopping first:

  If it sounds too good to be true …

  “I’d like to think about it 6 for a little longer,” I said, with what I feared was a bit of a slur.

  “No!” Geo mouthed, shaking his head furiously. “No!”

  “You’ve done a wonderful job,” I said to Alejandro. “But, to be honest, I haven’t had a chance to do my due diligence.”7

  Alejandro looked puzzled.

  “I’m afraid there are just too many people who rely on the quality of my advice where deals are concerned.”

  “I see,” Alejandro said.

  I waited for a but …

  But how about one week a year instead of two?

  How about a two-bedroom unit every other year for even less?

  Of course, he couldn’t possibly offer me anything more favorable than two free weeks a year, including a trade option with properties all over the world.

  “I just need a little more time,” I said, looking earnestly at Alejandro before he could come up with a rebuttal. “How about we plan to meet again after I’ve had time to do a little more research and can provide my Frugarmy with enough information so they too can make their best deal?”

  Geo threw his hands in the air. “Cut!”

  The situation—as it was deemed by Geo, who was ranting into the phone before I could even apologize—was handled by stationing me behind Alejandro’s desk to surf the web. While Geo and the camera crew assuaged their irritation with a snack break, I was instructed to absorb timeshare ownership information to my heart’s content.

  That, or fifteen minutes—whichever came first.

  Luckily I managed to take in a fair bit of knowledge:

  Only buy a timeshare if you expect to hold onto it. Timeshares are not real estate investments and typically don’t appreciate. In fact, depreciation is the norm, so it shouldn’t be considered a financial investment but an investment in your future vacations.8

  Don’t kid yourself that the presentation will last a mere 90 minutes. Plan on 3 hours and know you’ll likely need the patience of Job.

  If you can, pay in cash. The interest rates on timeshare mortgage loans are typically higher than traditional mortgages.

  And one particularly interesting additional fact:

  If brand-new isn’t of paramount importance, skip the developers altogether. You can buy a timeshare for a fraction of its initial value through an owner or resale site.

  I’d managed to read most of the Federal Trade Commission’s webpage about buying and selling timeshares as well as a sticky note on the monitor that said, simply, Mrs. Frugalicious!! when Frank burst into the room and closed the door behind him.

  “You’re feeling better?” I asked, suddenly feeling worse.

  “What choice did I have?” His expression was a mixture of irritation and concern. “Why on Earth would you balk about—?”

  “Committing ourselves to another piece of community property that will just need to be split up as soon as this show is over?” I whispered.

  “Easily split into one week for each of us.”

  “In the meantime, it’s our job to give sound financial advice and bargain tips.”

  “Like, if someone offers to give you a free timeshare, sign the paperwork ASAP?”

  Before we could hash it out any further, all three kids just happened to appear in the lobby of the timeshare office, their camera crew trailing behind them.

  “The cenotes were awesome!” FJ exclaimed as they joined us in Alejandro’s office.

  “You wouldn’t believe how amazing they were,” Trent added.

  “And we met another kid from Colorado there.” FJ smiled. “Liam.”

  “He’s Anastasia’s sister’s kid,” Trent said.

  “And he seems really cool,” FJ said.

  “Great,” I said.

  “We had the best day,” Eloise said. “Like, ever.”

  At least their enthusiasm, unaided or abetted by the use of cue cards, was clearly authentic. So was the cameraman’s interest in Eloise—more accurately, in getting footage of Eloise in a red-checkered bikini top and short shorts as she sashayed across the room, plopped down on the couch, and attempted to tame her trademark Michaels curls into a ponytail.

  She smiled. “Ivan says he’s taking me to the beach tomorrow before the wedding.”

  “He’s taking all of us,” Trent said.

  “Liam says he’s going to tag along too,” FJ said.

  “The bodysurfing is supposed to be amazing here,” Eloise said.

  “I thought you hated bodysurfing,” FJ said.

  “Used to,” said Eloise, who tended to despise anything athletic. “I’m broadening my horizons.”

  “You’re obviously enjoying yourselves,” Frank said.

  “Totally,” Trent said.

  “Definitely,” FJ added.

  “I already love this place,” Eloise said wistfully.

  “Good,” Frank said. “What if I told you we’re going to be spending a lot more time vacationing here in the future?”

  “Say what?” FJ asked.

  Frank put his arm around my shoulder and smiled broadly for the kids and the camera.

  “Your mother and I will soon be the proud owners of two glorious weeks a year here at the Hacienda de la Fortuna and a whole host of partner resorts across the globe.”

  “Probably,” I added, despite the rolling camera.

  5. Self-explanatory, but an especially satisfying deal.

  6. Whether you actually plan to purchase the timeshare or not, don’t ever accept the first price offered. I’d like to think about it and/or a no or two for the record is your most effective bargaining tool to assure the best price.

  7. If you are indeed interested in vacation ownership, be sure to do your research first. Don’t allow a persuasive salesman to tell you what you want and for what price.

  8. If you buy a timeshare today for $20,000, use it for the next twenty years and sell it for $10,000, is this really loss? Probably not if you add up your hotel receipts over the same twenty-year period.

  three

  There was no denying the sheer beauty of what was to be the new site of our annual vacations. Given the startling turquoise ocean backdrop where Anastasia would say her I dos and the equally scenic beachfront spot where Geo sent us to shoot a pre-rehearsal segment about destination weddings, it was difficult to argue that a timeshare here was anything but a tremendous boon. Particularly when a seabird swooped in behind us and a gentle breeze rustled the scrim behind the cabana where we’d been seated to share a few tips.

  Still, I couldn’t help but feel more than a little railroaded.

  “I really can’t pretend I’m paying a good price for something that’s free,” I said as we awaited Geo’s cue
.

  “Not free, Maddie,” Frank said, finger gelling his hair. “Any perks we get while working are simply additional income. It goes on our taxes and everything.” At my wide-eyed look, he added, “Relax, Maddie. They’re including a cash sum to cover the income tax.”

  “Hmm. But if we’re promoting something as a bargain for our viewers, we have to be able to stand behind the deal.”

  “Sure, but without throwing off the whole production schedule in the process,” he said. “The only time they can squeeze in the signing segment now is on Saturday at the crack of dawn, before the postwedding brunch.”

  “Assuming I agree to it.”

  “Maddie, there’s no downside.”

  “Not so far.” I sighed. “I just wish I’d have known the plan so I could think about it ahead of time.”

  “Welcome to reality TV,” Frank said.

  “Exactly,” Geo said, appearing beside us. “Ready to roll?”

  Frank nodded for both of us.

  Geo said “action” and despite the beginnings of a mild tequila headache, I had no choice but smile and launch into my spiel:

  “When Anastasia told me she had her heart set on a budget destination wedding, I figured there would be little in the way of bargains or discounts. I quickly learned that opulent and outrageously priced are not necessarily synonymous—not here in beautiful Mexico, anyway.”

  Frank nodded. “I sure wish we’d have thought of having our wedding at a place like Hacienda de la Fortuna. Don’t you, Maddie?”

  “I do,” I heard myself say as I glanced over at the Cala de la Boda, a picturesque cove bordered by mangrove trees that was reserved for weddings and other events.

  I peered around the reflectors at Anastasia and her groom, Philip, who stood together in front of a second camera crew having a prearranged, but no less touching, private moment together beneath the wrought-iron wedding arch. Serious, graying at the temples, and usually distracted by his job as acting chief of the South Metro Denver Police, Philip looked giddy and downright boyish as he planted a kiss on Anastasia’s cheek and surveyed the scene.