THE LOBBY OF the hotel rotunda didn’t provide privacy for their meeting, but Evie doubted any of the guests passing by on their way to breakfast or getting ready to hit the roller coasters would pay any attention to three people sitting around a table with coffee and laptops. Somehow, it seemed fitting to sit in the century-old hotel for their conversation about renovating the structure.
Typical of beach hotels from the early twentieth century, the Lake Breeze Hotel had a large central lobby with wings sprouting off each side. The side wings that angled toward the beach offered guests excellent views and pleasant breezes. The windows’ green shutters and awnings lent an old-fashioned appeal.
The rear wings angled toward the parking lot with a roller coaster view and a lower price. Only a few decades after the original structure was built, two detached wings were added next to it. Time had not been kind to the exteriors of the buildings, which had been exposed to harsh winter winds off Lake Huron for a century. The interiors had enjoyed a renovation and update roughly forty years ago, but the whole place had the appearance of a middle-aged woman searching through her closet for something to wear that would make her look younger.
“What about the floor?” June asked. Evie and her brother and sister glanced at the sunlight reflecting off the highly polished wood floor. The narrow planks were laid in an octagonal pattern in the rotunda. After a century of use, the wood rolled up and down. There were a few boards patched in that didn’t quite match. A thick rug covered the center section, concealing a long-unused drain tile. “You’re not planning to sacrifice character in your remodel, are you?”
“There are beautiful laminate floors that look like real wood and would stand up to traffic a lot better,” Evie said. “Sand, shoes, strollers. They kill floors. Do you know how much money we spend every winter completely stripping and re-varnishing this floor?”
“No, but I bet you do,” Jack said. He ate a doughnut left-handed while he used his right to scroll across the screen of the laptop in the center of the table. “I like this one,” he said. He pointed to a patterned floor advertised on the website Evie had bookmarked.
June leaned closer. “It’s pretty. And it looks like real wood. It probably won’t fool anyone, but this place still gets to feel like an old beach hotel.”
“Exactly my plan,” Evie said. “We spend the big bucks tearing down four of the wings and totally rebuilding them.”
“Which wings?” Jack asked.
“The two off the back of the lobby and the two detached ones. They’ve never been as nice as the two front wings, anyway,” Evie said.
“This is more major than I thought,” June said.
Evie rolled her eyes. “We’ve been talking about it for two years.”
“I was busy,” June said.
“So we totally rebuild four wings and we just pretty up the rest?” Jack asked.
Ouch. The way he said it made it seem like Evie’s plan was lacking. Did they have any idea how much this was going to cost?
“Don’t make it sound like we’re cheating,” Evie said. “This plan adds rooms and makes the whole place more attractive. We fill rooms, we make money. If people like the place, they stay longer, eat more meals, buy multi-day tickets. I’m trying to get the most return on my money.”
“Our money,” Jack said.
“That’s what I meant.”
Jack smiled. “I know. I’m just trying to protect my job. With your brains—” he pointed at Evie “—and your talent—” he pointed at June “—I’m afraid you won’t need me anymore.”
Maybe she was too sensitive about her place in the family business.
“I have a personal relationship with the account books. Kind of how you two feel about the rides and shows,” Evie said lightly.
“I’m glad you handle the money,” June said. “It’s much more fun to pick out sparkly costumes and soundtracks than worry about which numbers are red and which ones are black. This is fun, too,” she added, pointing to the design website on the computer screen.
Evie nodded enthusiastically. “If we refurbish the central section of the Lake Breeze, update the lobby, spruce up the rotunda and beach entrance, I think guests will love it. It will still be the same place they’ve visited for years, but it will look new. It sets us up for the next twenty years, too, if we’re careful about choosing materials that will cut our maintenance and utility costs.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Jack said. “We’re keeping this intact, aren’t we?” He pointed to the skylights far above them. The floors of guest rooms circled the rotunda, but they had an open banister where guests could look up to the tenth-floor skylights or down to the wood-floored rotunda where the Hamiltons were seated.
“Yes,” Evie said. “I think there would be a public outcry if we changed this dramatically. New floor, new lighting fixtures, new paint and carpet, and new furniture where we’re sitting. That will bring the area up to date while still having the feel of an old beach hotel.”
“Which it is,” June said.
“Take a look at this.” Evie opened a new tab and showed her brother and sister some of the design elements she hoped to include in the renovation. A colorful life-size carousel horse would be a focal point in the lobby. Evie had already found one in storage that could be brought back to life with paint. Giant artwork inspired by postcards from old-time amusement parks would cover the walls—huge black-and-white photographs of people strolling the beach or riding the quaint old-fashioned roller coasters that used to undulate along the boardwalk. Plush seating in pink and green beach colors would fill the rotunda and lobby areas, inviting guests to sit and take a trip back to the days before cell towers and the internet.
“I feel like I’m on vacation just looking at it,” Jack said.
“And it’s not a budget-breaker.”
She showed them another picture on her computer. “I found these old photographs of the Lake Breeze from about seventy years ago. Apparently it had a stamped tin ceiling, but they removed it in the last renovation before we were born. I want to bring it back.”
“Is that hard?” June asked.
“There’s an easy way and a hard way. The cheaper way is to install a dropped ceiling just a foot or so below the old one. They still make the stamped tin tiles, but they’re a lot easier to install in a new framework.”
“Do we sacrifice anything by dropping the ceiling?” Jack asked. “It’s already pretty high up there, so I doubt anyone will notice.”
Evie shook her head. “I was worried about the stained-glass windows because I thought they went all the way to the ceiling. Turns out, they don’t. If you go in the lobby and take a good look, they actually stop about ten inches from the current ceiling.”
“What’s this part?” June asked. She pointed to a diagram on the table with boxes and lines.
“Redesigned beach entrance,” Evie said. “What do you think of fire pits?”
“People love fire,” Jack commented. “Unless it’s consuming their boats. Have we heard the end of that, by the way?”
“The boat’s in dry dock, being assessed by the owner’s insurance company,” Evie explained. “There was no damage to our docks, but I’m tempted to bill that idiot for the fire services and the cost of almost ruining my Fourth of July.”
“If we’re lucky,” Jack said, “that’s the worst thing that’ll happen all summer and we’ll be laughing about it by Halloween.”
“So this is the entrance out front,” June said. She was still looking at the diagram on the table. “I see the boardwalk area marked out, but what are all these squares?”
“I’m thinking of rows of seating with gas-fired rocks out front. Decorative metal guards around them, of course. Maybe some flaming torches. It will encourage people to sit outside and listen to the waves. They can unwind after a day of queue lines and hot dogs.”
“We could extend the bar service outside,” June suggested.
“Right here.” Evie pointed to the drawing. “The existing bar here in the lobby can be bumped out and we can add an outside entrance.”
“Our guests will live like kings,” Jack said.
“I hope so. And I hope this place will be one hundred percent booked from May until September.”
June sipped her tea and sat back in the wicker chair. “All those years that I thought you were a boring accountant with an internal calculator, you were actually a visionary. Who knew?”
“Wait until you see if and how this turns out before you give me too much credit.”
“Do we have building and construction permits yet?” Jack asked.
“That’s the next step. Almost all the plans are drawn up—as long as I get approval from my two partners.” Evie offered her untouched doughnut to both of them. “I’ll bribe you if I have to.”
June laughed. “You don’t have to. But that doughnut does look pretty good.”
Jack snatched it and took a bite.
“Next, I have to work with the fire inspector to get initial approval to go ahead with the demolition and work out any potential problems with the plans before they’re real problems,” Evie said.
“Do you think Scott will be cooperative?” June asked, grinning at Evie.
Evie let out a long breath. Scott was such a mixture. She couldn’t decide if he was trying to help her or slow her down. Sitting next to him as he slept all the way home on the ferry a few nights ago made her feel closer to him even if they hadn’t exchanged a word. Seeing him in action, treating the man with a heart attack and fighting a fire, made it clear he was dedicated, loyal, tough. All things she admired.
He was a mystery, but one thing was for sure. He wouldn’t give his approval for something unless it was exactly right. All she had to do was make sure things were exactly right. How hard can that be? The thought made her wish she hadn’t given away her doughnut.
“I hope Scott will be helpful,” Evie said. “He does work for us. And I keep reminding myself that those marina plans were initially approved by someone else. This time, Scott has a chance to be a pain in the butt right from the start.”
“Much better,” June said. She smiled at her sister. “I’m glad you’re the one dealing with construction permits. It sounds picky and miserable.”
“It is,” Jack agreed. “I honestly never knew much about the process until I helped Dad get the Sea Devil going a few years back. I didn’t know at the time that I’d be the one finishing the job and getting the permits to open the ride.” He glanced at the entrance and watched a family pass through the doors. A bright flash of morning sun off the lake lit up the table where he sat with June and Evie. “Seems like a lifetime ago.”
“Did you ever imagine the three of us would be running this place?” June asked.
“Maybe,” Jack said. They were all silent for a moment. “Someday. I thought Mom and Dad would hand it over to us when they were old enough to move into one of the senior citizen trailer parks in Florida.”
Evie’s vision of the future had been similar. She’d pictured herself working at Starlight Point as her father’s accountant. Being in charge and sharing complete ownership with her siblings was not something she’d ever imagined until it suddenly happened.
“Do you think Dad would approve of how we’re handling Starlight Point?” Evie asked. As the youngest, she had enjoyed the least time with her father and had been off at college in his final years. June, too, had been gone for years, off dancing on Broadway, living out her dream.
Jack was the one who’d finished his business degree as quickly as he could and dove into the daily business of Starlight Point. He knew the most about his father’s method of running the place, but he discovered the hard way, after Ford Hamilton’s death, that there was a chasm between what he knew and what he thought he knew.
“Dad would probably congratulate us for cleaning up his mess,” June said. She smiled and clinked her paper cup against Evie’s and Jack’s. “We’re smarter about spending money than he was.”
“I hope you still think so after you see what this is going to cost,” Evie said.
“Don’t tell me,” June said. She put her hands over her ears. “Let me live in my fantasy world.”
Evie wrote a number on a paper napkin and shoved it at Jack. He raised both eyebrows and his mouth fell open just enough to let a piece of doughnut pop out and land on the table.
“Fantasy world sounds like a wise plan,” he said.
“It’s not so bad. And,” Evie added, “if we can stay on budget, or even better, come in under budget, I have a plan I want to run past both of you.”
“I’m starting to wish you were still our penny-pinching accountant,” June said.
Evie rolled her eyes. “Did you know that sometimes you have to spend money to make money? It’s called calculated risk.”
“Now I do.”
“What’s the big idea for the buckets of leftover cash?” Jack asked.
“I’m not sure you’ll like it,” Evie warned, “and I’m not sure I love it myself because there’s no obvious return on investment. And I haven’t thought it entirely through yet because I don’t know if we’ll have the money.”
Jack and June stared at her, their full attention riveted on Evie. “Don’t say roller coaster,” Jack said. “Or campground.”
“We could put a theater in the hotel,” June said, her eyes lighting up. “Or a spa.”
Evie laughed. “No. I’m thinking we could tear down the old employee dorm and rebuild it.” She said the words as quickly as she could, fearing their reaction. “Glamorous, huh?”
“That’s it?” June asked. “I thought you had some huge announcement.”
“Sorry,” Evie said. “But I think the investment will be worth it in the long run.”
She imagined Scott applauding the decision to build safer dorms. It would be nice to earn his approval on that project, but she needed him to go along with her hotel plans first.
June laughed. “Since I’m afraid to look at the napkin with the price, I’ll just have to put my faith in my little sister.”