Christmas At Prescott Inn. Cathryn Parry
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Rob reluctantly reached for his copy and flipped to the table that bulleted the list of Nathan’s proposed tactics.
“It’s a start,” Rob remarked. “But you have to keep going. And you also need marketing ideas that don’t cost money. The rooms don’t fill themselves.”
“We do have ideas, great ones,” Nathan assured him. He thought of Nell and the marketing research he’d assigned her. For now, though, he held up a second bound report, which he’d received from his property consultant this past summer. “This study describes all of our winter facilities and their state of repair as well as future maintenance needs. My team is currently looking into targeted promotion and free publicity for the low-expense venues as appropriate. These efforts will increase bookings for the holiday season.”
“Ah. You’re talking about the sleigh rides and such.” B.G. Richards, one of the minor investors, reached for the report, smiling with nostalgia at the photo on the cover. “My kids are looking forward to using the ice rink this Christmas. Will it be open to the community?”
Finally, Nathan had an ally. He directed his attention on B.G.—a local construction manager and family man who supported the homeless shelter and had a pretty big heart when it came to kids. “As you know, B.G., that’s a big part of the reason I led this effort to purchase the inn—to keep the use of the facilities in the community and allow access to the local children.”
B.G. nodded, but of the five of them present at the meeting, Rob was the majority investor, and he was scowling at Nathan. Nathan modified his approach. “Of course, we will close the rink if necessary—and any other facility—if it helps the short-term cash flow. At least until we get back on our feet.” He stared hard at Rob. “Rest assured, I’m prepared to do whatever is fiscally necessary to turn this crisis around.”
Rob nodded with satisfaction. He seemed to like that Nathan had used the word crisis.
“That ice rink B.G. mentioned is expensive to keep up,” Rob remarked, closing the cover of his report. “As the property consultant noted, there are maintenance costs. Electricity.” He crossed his arms and stared at Nathan. “I think you should take a look at that expense first.”
“All right,” Nathan said. “But I’m asking for your continued patience with my overall plans. Right now, we’re performing an analysis of the winter programs our competitors are offering so we can better gauge which facilities Prescott Inn should keep open.” He glanced around the table. “My plan for the turnaround is good. It will bear fruit.”
“Very well. We’ll meet again next week and review your progress.” Rob stood, signaling the end of the discussion. “It goes without saying that any mention of Prescott Inn’s financial precariousness will not be discussed outside of this room.”
They all nodded. The group of five disbanded.
Nathan raked his hand through his hair as he left the savings and loan and headed to the inn’s Jeep, the resort’s logo emblazoned on the side of the vehicle.
He felt as if he’d been body-slammed. He tried not to show it outwardly, but this meeting was official notification of his worst nightmare come true. All that Nathan had earned today was a reprieve. And a warning to prepare himself for the worst.
All he’d wanted had been to buy and reopen his grandfather’s inn. For two years, he’d managed to hold on to that dream. He still hoped he could keep it going. But time was running out.
As Nathan drove through town, people waved at him from the sidewalk.
I can still stop Rob from closing the inn. I have until Christmas. Like Rob said, I can come up with even more programs to cut.
Nathan pulled his Jeep in front of the inn’s entrance and left the engine idling as he reached into his briefcase and again pulled out the report from the property consultant.
Frank, their valet parking attendant who was also their bellhop, came up to the window. “Park the car for you, Mr. Prescott?”
“No, thanks, Frank. Could you please go inside and tell Nell to come out and join me? I’m moving our meeting from the conference room into the Jeep.”
He wanted to personally check out the outdoor winter facilities. Maybe a drive into the mountains and fresh air would clear his head.
Should he shut the skating rink or not? That was his biggest outdoor activity expense.
“Sure thing, Mr. Prescott. I’ll let Nell know right away.”
Frank backed away and then turned sharply before he headed inside. Nathan half expected Frank to give him a smart salute. Frank had been so happy to have his job back from the old days that he’d shaken Nathan’s hand every morning since then.
It made Nathan sad to think of it now.
Nathan took the bound property consultant’s report and then got out of the Jeep to circle around to the passenger seat. Once there, he flipped through the pages again while he waited for Nell.
Finally, she came running through the inn door and headed toward him, zipping up her winter coat and swinging her purse over her shoulder as if it was the best morning of her life.
He was glad someone was happy.
“What’s going on?” she asked, out of breath.
“You drive,” he directed. “We’re heading up the mountain road. We have to make some cuts, so the skating rink is the first item on the list to consider. If necessary we’ll put up a Closed sign in front of the entrance. We can pick it up from the facilities shed.”
Her eyes widened at the news. Seeming hesitant, she got inside and then adjusted the driver’s seat, pushing it forward. “Um, I thought we were going to have a strategy session about my marketing research?” she asked nervously.
“We are. We’ll talk about your findings and your ideas for promotion while we drive. Just make sure they’re low-cost.” He fidgeted with his report, impatient. He loved his niece, but at such a critical moment for the inn, he wished he could also afford a marketing manager with experience. Still, Nell had energy and enthusiasm, and she was family. She had just graduated with a degree in hotel and hospitality management. So maybe she had some ideas for him. He needed good ideas.
He held up the bound report that he’d shown his investor team. “After we visit the skating rink, we’ll swing by the base of the cross-country ski trail. I want to assess the current condition of the fencing. Plus, I want to see the sleigh and make sure the barn where it’s housed is still in good condition.”
Nell wiped her hair from her eyes and pressed her lips together. Without a word, she adjusted her seat belt and flicked on her seat warmer. It was cold in the Jeep. Their breath made steamy puffs in the frigid air.
Still no snow outside, though. Not even a flake.
She turned the Jeep out of the parking lot and toward the main road. “Can we, um, talk about the importance of the outdoor skating rink?” Nell asked, hesitant.
“Why?”