I add dark brown eyeliner around my eyes, bronzer for blush, and my signature red lipstick. I like making a statement, and my red lips and leopard-print apron add some pizzazz to my otherwise boring chef’s coat and jeans.
I smile at my reflection. Today is extra special because it begins a new chapter: Mom and I are expanding our business. We’re buying a small, local hotel and turning it into a quaint bed-and-breakfast. We’ve always dreamed of doing it, and now that we have a successful bistro under our belts, it’s time to expand.
We saved our asses off for two years to make it happen—every last cent—and, with Robert, our investor, it’s time to change our lives. It’s a chance to build something for myself, which I promised myself I’d do. After seeing Mom go through four marriages, where she depended on her husbands for financial security, I said, hell no, that will not happen to me. Those men used it to their advantage, and it killed me watching her suffer. So I’m making my way on my own, and I’m damn proud to be doing it.
I don’t need a man.
Never have.
Never will.
The sun burns brighter, and the air breathes fresher as I pull up to The Rose Hotel, a small, historic, brick building with eight rooms. I park my ancient, white Ford Explorer Sport out front. My automobile—another thing I’ll upgrade when I get the chance. I grab the cherry pie from the passenger seat and get out.
With a perky bounce to my step, I smile as I pass the hotel, picturing how it will feel when it’s ours, and I head into the real estate office next door with a big-ass smile plastered to my face.
Becky, the office manager, looks up as I walk in. “Well, there’s only one thing that smile means!” She yells and jumps out of her chair.
“Yes!” I shout. “We got our investor, and we’re ready to buy the hotel!”
Becky runs over to me and gingerly takes the pie from my hands like it went for a million-dollar bid at a Christie’s auction. She sets it down and then grabs me in a surprisingly strong bear hug for a petite woman in her 50s. She is a daily jogger though, and she’s always harping on me to join her. As if I have time.
“Yay! Finally!” she says. “You must be pleased as a bowl of rum-spiked peach punch!” She eyes the pie on the desk. “And, um, is that cherry pie for us?”
“Of course,” I say, picking it back up and handing it to her.
“Mm mm. Thank YOU!” She holds the pie up to her nose and takes a big whiff and then licks the top of the entire thing. She yells out, “Charlie! I just licked the whole pie Aspen brought us, so you probably don’t want any now.”
“Oh my god, Becky, you’re terrible!” I laugh and make a mental note to bring another pie for Charlie, our agent, though he already eats too many slices of my pie. He’s a regular customer at the bistro, and often has meetings with his clients there, signing papers and selling real estate, like it’s his second office. We don’t mind. Our goal from the beginning was to have a place for people to relax and enjoy simple foods made with love and quality ingredients. Now, we’ll take the same philosophy and apply it to our future bed-and-breakfast, which we’re calling The Rose.
Becky smirks and shrugs, setting the pie on her desk. “So, how are ya gonna celebrate?” she asks as she leans against her desk. “Big fancy dinner or something?”
“Probably just lots of rosé wine, cherry pie, and Netflix!” I sigh, thinking that would actually be a treat. I have five new seasons of shows waiting for me to binge on. If I could find the time.
“That’s my girl!” We bust into a fit of giggles, and she takes me to the back office to update Charlie.
“Hi, Charlie,” I say, standing in front of his desk. “We’re ready to buy The Rose Hotel!”
He takes off his glasses and scoots his chair back far enough for his large belly to clear the desk when he stands up to shake my hand. “Hi, Aspen,” he says, laughing, and his kind, blue eyes sparkle with joy about my good news. “I could hear you from back here. That’s excellent. I’ll bet your mom is happy, too.”
We shake hands, and he sits back down, while I take a seat in the chair across from him. Then, I lean forward in my chair and whisper loudly, “This will change our lives, Charlie!” I throw my hands up. “We’ll be busier than ever, but that suits me fine. I’m on a mission. And? It’s going to be so much fun!”
“I know, Aspen. You’ve been hounding me about this property for—what is it?—a little over a year, if I recall. Always breathing down my neck, calling every week to see if someone else had made an offer.” He pretends I was a bother, but I know he’s happy for us. He knows what this means to me.
He grabs a pen to jot something in his calendar. “I’ll have the paperwork drawn up by the end of this week, and you can come in with a check for the down payment.”
“Great!” I say. “And what’s the time frame after that? When can I plan contractors and start taking reservations?” I laugh. The place needs some work before we’ll open for business, but thinking about it gives me a burst of energy and makes
