Chapter Seven
Maddie
Caesar lowers his gaze for a moment. He’s simmering quietly, but I take that as meaning he’s at least prepared to listen. So I get to my feet, replace Brielle by the screen, and flick the button to bring up my presentation.
It starts with a photo of me in a field, taken by a friend on her phone while we were at university.
My hair is up in a scruffy bun, I’m not wearing any makeup, and my nose and cheeks are sun-kissed.
It had been raining, and a minute before she took the photo, I’d slipped over in the mud and landed on my bum.
I’m standing up, but my boots and jeans are covered in mud, and I’m holding up my mud-covered hands and laughing.
Over the top, I’ve written in bad handwriting because I had to use my finger on my phone, ‘Maddie being hands-on.’ Everyone chuckles… except the guy sitting opposite me.
I’m trembling, and I hope they can’t see it.
I’m about to pitch to a billionaire board while carrying a secret baby and trying not to throw up.
I rarely talk in public or in meetings. The fact that the Ashford family is only really listening because they have no option doesn’t help matters.
And then, of course, there’s Caesar himself.
I knew as soon as I looked into his eyes that he recognized me. I guess the mask, wig, and makeup were just a superficial disguise that weren’t going to make me as invisible as I’d hoped. Knocking over the pot plant sorted that out.
He looked absolutely furious, and still does. He’s obviously worked out that I knew who he was, and he thinks I engineered it all.
Well, I didn’t, and right now there are more important things at stake. I shove the thought of Little Raspberry to the back of my mind and concentrate on the business at hand.
“Once upon a time,” I begin, “this young, clumsy, but ambitious girl had just finished her doctorate in Agricultural Science, focusing on soil restoration.” Marcus’s eyebrows rise.
“I know that doesn’t sound sexy,” I tell him, “but it’s like a woman who’s wearing a boring suit.
You have to imagine the underwear she’s wearing beneath it. ”
Marcus’s lips curve up. Aurelia giggles. Edward hides a smile beneath his hand.
My gaze slides to Caesar. He’s glaring at me.
Great. I’ve just compared soil science to lingerie in front of a billion-dollar company. Excellent start, Maddie.
Brielle gives a quiet cough, and I clear my throat, bringing up the next photo of myself as a child, hand-milking a cow.
“Anyway, the point is that it might not be a sexy topic, but it’s one I’ve been passionate about since I was five and overheard my grandfather and father talking about the drought that was taking place that year, which led to widespread reductions in pasture growth.
” I give a wry smile as the Ashfords exchange glances.
“I realize how precocious that sounds. At root, all I knew was that we were having trouble feeding the farm animals I loved. Right then, I decided I wanted to be a scientist. I wanted to feed the world. I still do.”
Caesar is frowning as if unsure where this is going. He’s playing with his pen. But he’s listening.
“Brielle’s system tells you what’s likely to happen,” I continue, “how pasture growth will respond to weather, soil moisture, and seasonal variation. Over time, it refines those predictions, so it’s not just modelling growth, it’s improving the accuracy of those forecasts with every cycle.”
Caesar gets up to help himself to a fresh coffee. I bring up the next slide which has a photo of me collecting samples in the field. “We all know it’s important to deploy methods outside of the laboratory and pilot conditions. So we asked our father to give us one farm to test the system on.”
They’re all watching me now, even Caesar as he retakes his seat. His brown eyes study me. Now he’s not wearing a mask, I realize how inscrutable his expression is when he’s not glaring. I have no idea what he’s thinking.
I bring up the next slide. “This is Blackridge Station, a ten-thousand-acre property situated in the hills above Queenstown. It’s notoriously difficult to farm, with most of those acres given over to steep, stony ground that’s always resisted improvement.
But we took on the challenge, and this is what we did. ”
I run through half a dozen slides, going into the science in a bit more detail. Both the Ashford boys have science degrees, so I wanted to give them some technical information.
I could talk about it for hours, but I don’t. Nobody deserves that.
“You’ll find a summary of the results in your folders,” I tell them as I round up. “But I know you must be thinking, how does Ashford AgriTech fit into this?”
Marcus is leaning forward on the table. Caesar shifts in his chair. I glance at my grandfather, whose eyes shine. He can see they’re interested.
I swallow hard—this is the important bit.
“Well, your system predicts pasture growth. Brielle’s looks for patterns over time and helps farmers adjust early to changes.
If we were to integrate your predictive model with our system, I believe we could be looking at a significant uplift in pasture productivity across marginal land.
You model yield. We improve it. Together, we increase it. ”
I finish with the last slide, which is a photo I took of me standing next to Buttercup, one of the cows at Blackridge. My arm is around her, and from the angle the photo is taken, it looks as if she’s smiling.
“I understand why you’re reluctant to share your system,” I say earnestly.
“But the child in me still wants to feed the world.” I glance at Marcus.
“I know you’re looking at introducing a stripped-back version of your system to developing countries.
Imagine what we could achieve if we work together. ”
I hesitate, but he doesn’t say anything and neither do the others, so I return to my seat, resisting the urge to crawl under the table and live there permanently.
“Thanks, Maddie,” Edward says softly. He looks at his son sitting next to him. “Marcus? Anything you’d like to add?”
“I can see the attraction,” he says slowly. “Maddie’s right—the systems together could significantly improve yield.” He taps the folder. “And the science looks sound.”
“Aurelia?” Edward asks.
“I’m no scientist,” she says, “I’m involved in presenting the public face of the company. I was against an acquisition. But a strategic partnership that produced these results?” She shrugs. “It would play incredibly well in the market.”
Edward looks at his eldest son. “Caesar?”
The man sitting opposite me is playing with his pen, and as I watch, he flips it all the way through his fingers, a smooth move that makes Brielle give a short laugh beside me. I think she likes him. I’m not surprised by that, although I am startled by the stab of jealousy I feel.
He lifts his gaze to me and looks at me for a long moment. I hold his gaze, trying not to think about the way he looked into my eyes while he thrust inside me. But that night his eyes were warm, and now they’re ice-cold.
I lower my gaze, chilled to the bone. Aurelia has just helped herself to a hot drink, and the smell of coffee drifts across the table, making me feel queasy. I inhale and blow out a breath slowly, waiting for the wave of nausea to recede.
“Feeding the world is a romantic idea,” Caesar says, “but somehow I don’t think this story has a happily ever after.”
“I meant every word I said,” I tell him hotly.
“Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. That’s irrelevant. What I do doubt is that the rest of your family shares your idealistic intentions. It sounds like theory dressed up as impact, an excuse to get your foot in the door. How long before you completely take us over?”
Edward brushes a hand over his face, but he doesn’t object, and Marcus nods, so he obviously agrees.
“We have infrastructure Ashford doesn’t,” Brielle insists. “We’re talking about scaling this across tens of thousands of hectares within twelve months.”
“And don’t forget the capital we’re offering,” Tom says, “as well as our contacts. You’ve expanded into Europe, but you’ve struggled to get a foothold in the US and South America. We can help there.”
“It’s certainly worth a discussion,” Edward says smoothly. He turns to the financial projection in the folder. “Let’s talk facts and figures.”
We all turn to the page, and Edward, Marcus, and Gramps start talking about the financial side of things.
I sit back, my work done. I look across the table at Caesar.
He’s reading the figures, listening to the conversation, but he’s not joining in.
I think he’s deeply resentful they’re even discussing it, but he knows the board can outvote him, and he owes it to the shareholders to hear us out.
He looks up then, catching me watching him. Our eyes meet, and my heart races. It’s impossible not to think about Little Raspberry.
Gosh, this is a tangled web. All it’s done is complicate the decision I have to make.
Or has it? I slump a little in my seat. Nothing’s changed, ultimately. If I have the baby, I’m still going to have to do it alone. There’s no way I can tell him now.
“Okay,” Edward says, “I think we’ve heard enough.
” He sighs and looks directly at Tom. “You mentioned putting our cards on the table. Obviously, we’re cynical.
We’ve all worked hard to make the company what it is, and none of us wants to hand it over to another firm.
But I got into this business because I was excited to improve pasture growth.
So my first instinct is to form an exploratory committee to investigate it further.
I’d like to send someone down to Blackridge Station to look at the system firsthand. ”
“Excellent idea,” Tom says.
Edward looks at Caesar. “I think you should go.”
Caesar looks startled. “What? Why me?”