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"So..." I trail off expectantly, unable to resist prodding him now that we've been granted a temporary respite from our whirlwind camp revival scheming. "You were saying about 'building character' out in the wild?"
Zane huffs out a low chuckle, absently swirling the amber liquid in his glass before downing a hearty swig. "You know as well as I do that half the magic of Silverpine is stripping away all the distractions and bullshit modern comforts we've gotten so used to. It's about reconnecting with a simpler way of living, one that forces you to be present and self-reliant."
I can't argue with his logic, not when I'd experienced that same primal thrill so often as a camper here. There was something so empowering about waking up to the crisp mountain air, body aching from a day spent climbing jagged cliff faces and hiking through the backcountry.
"Okay, you've got a point," I concede around the rim of my glass. "But we can't completely ignore modernizing some things, too, right? I'm all for capturing that rugged authenticity, but we'll need to strike some balances to attract a new generation."
Zane considers this for a moment, absently rubbing his whiskered jawline. "Fair enough. I'm willing to meet you halfway on selective upgrades and amenities."
The unexpected olive branch makes me perk up, a slow grin spreading across my face. For the first time, we're actually aligning on a shared long-term vision for Silverpine instead of digging in on opposing philosophies. A strange sense of giddy optimism bubbles up from somewhere deep inside me—one I haven't felt in longer than I can remember.
Emboldened, I lean across the table and capture Zane's free hand in my own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You know, for a couple of stubborn jackasses, we might just make a hell of a team after all."
"Funny, feels like I already said that," he rumbles, the rough pad of his thumb caressing over my knuckles in a way that has my skin tingling.
I open my mouth to respond, but the words evaporate on my tongue as a raucous burst of laughter echoes from the crowded bar area. Frowning, I twist in my seat to get a better look at the disturbance.
My stomach clenches as I take in the rowdy group holding court at the bar—a pack of overly tanned businessmen in designer suits, reeking of new money arrogance. The loudest one, a stocky guy in an obnoxiously bright red tie, slams his tumbler down with a bark of laughter.
"I'm telling you fellas, there are fortunes to be made scooping up these diamond-in-the-rough properties out in the sticks." He jabs a thick finger toward one of his buddies.
My pulse kicks up as the old instincts kick in—that finely honed ability to read between the lines, to sniff out an opportunity before anyone else even realizes it's there.
Zane's low rumble snaps me out of the momentary trance. "Everything okay?"
I force my attention back to him, my lips curving into what I hope is a reassuring smile. "Actually, I think we might have just gotten lucky."
His brow furrows, but I don’t waste time explaining. Reaching across the table, I give his forearm a squeeze. "Be right back."
Before Zane can protest, I'm sliding out of the booth and making a beeline for the rowdy investors.
"Excuse me, gentlemen," I interject with a polite smile as I wedge myself into their little circle. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation about investment opportunities."
The loud one—clearly the ringleader—gives me an appraising once-over. "What's a pretty little thing like you know about serious business?"
The condescending words are like a physical slap. I can feel my hackles rising, that instinctive flare of temper threatening to boil over. But I instantly smother it, keeping my features schooled into an expression of polite interest as I take a measured half-step closer.
"More than you could ever imagine," I murmur, letting just a hint of challenge slip into my tone. "Tell me, how would you and your associates like to get in on the ground floor of a once-in-a-lifetime investment that's poised to be the next big thing in outdoor adventure tourism?"
The man's bravado falters ever so slightly at my directness, that arrogant mask cracking just enough for me to see the spark of curiosity kindling beneath. Bingo. I've got his attention.
"Gentlemen, what you're looking at is a chance to revitalize and breathe new life into Camp Silverpine—a once-thriving outdoor mecca nestled in the heart of the Rockies. We're talking hundreds of acres of pristine wilderness property ripe for development."
I can see the vision taking shape in their eyes, dollar signs practically glimmering behind their avaricious stares.
"With a few savvy renovations and the right marketing strategy, we're talking about an opportunity that could deliver a return in the eight to nine figures, easy. All we need is an infusion of start-up capital to get the ball rolling."
The words seem to hover in the air with a weighty sense of promise. The ringleader exchanges a series of meaningful glances with his crew before turning back toward me with a wolfish grin.
"You've got our attention. Why don't you have your people reach out to my office, say... Monday morning?"
He digs into his jacket pocket and fishes out an embossed card, which he presses into my palm before giving me an entirely-too-lingering once over.
"We'll hammer out the finer details then."
My smile is all feigned politeness as I tuck the card safely away. "I look forward to doing business with you."
I spin on my heel, the triumphant grin already plastered across my face as I return to Zane.
