Chapter 8
CHARLIE
The rest of the week after Liv and the girls had slept over was completely and utterly normal. I’d never been disappointed about a normal week, but working on the ranch and prepping with Dad for our meeting on Friday seemed mundane now that I knew she existed.
Our meeting with the new marketing director was looming, and I was dreading it more than before.
I loved everything about the ranch except for all the marketing and social media stuff.
While I understood that it was vital to our survival in the modern age, I would have loved nothing more than to unplug and to have no trace on the internet.
It wasn’t practical nowadays, though. We needed to have that footprint in order to keep growing and being successful, but I hated having to deal with it.
Ideally, I would have liked to sign some contract and leave it all to the pros to manage, but free rein was a dangerous thing, too dangerous for us to consider, but I wished we could.
Marketing was a drag on the best of days, and after that night at Honky Tonks, I knew that these were not the best of my days.
On and off throughout the week, I found myself thinking about Liv. Wondering what she was doing and how she was settling in. It was like an itch I couldn’t scratch—and it was driving me nuts.
Somehow, I’d let her go without getting her last name, her phone number, or even where she worked and I had some serious regrets about that. But it was too late. I would have to hope that my initial thoughts about us running into each other again if it was meant to be held up.
In the meantime, I was perfectly willing to admit that the girl had something special about her. I couldn’t deny it.
She’d made my heart race in a way that hadn’t happened to me often before, and I was having a little trouble simply forgetting about her. But I had to get my head in the game.
This ranch wouldn’t make it to the next generation if we screwed up the hard work of the generations who had come before us, and in our generation, marketing and social media were key to us being able to pass this place along.
Which meant that as much as I hated it, I needed to focus on our meeting with Nathan’s daughter and I needed to really think about what I wanted them to showcase next.
As I walked to my parents’ house on Thursday afternoon, I stuck my hands in my pockets and paid attention to the dirt beneath my feet. I watched the mud as it bulged under my boots and looked at the specks of grass dust I kicked up as I moved.
I inhaled deeply and tried to imagine my life without this place.
How different things might’ve been if I, like Liv, had come from New York City.
Try as I might though, I just couldn’t picture it.
I couldn’t even begin to understand what life was like in that concrete jungle, let alone who I might’ve been if I’d been born there.
My dad looked up when I got to their place, setting aside the newspaper he’d been reading on the porch. A glass of tea sat on the coffee table between his chair and my mom’s. Angel that she was, she’d left a glass for me too.
I dropped into her chair, leaning back and looking out at the line of trees we’d planted in their front yard last spring. “Those are coming along nicely.”
Dad nodded. “There are few things as satisfying as planting a tree and getting to watch it grow.”
“I know. That’s why we do it so often.”
He chuckled. “If anyone asks, we’re doing it for the environment.”
“Are you going green on me, Dad?” I joked.
His graying eyebrows rose as he jabbed a thumb at his chest. “Me? I’m not going green, son.
I’ve always been green. Just the real kind.
The kind where we actually care about the land we live on and how we live on it, and I don’t need to hug a tree to prove it.
” The humor faded from his features as he exhaled and looked out at the property.
“We’ve been the custodians of this land for a long time. ”
“We have.”
Dad picked up his glass and took a long sip of his tea.
I could see he was getting lost in thought.
I left him to it, knowing he’d been contemplative all week.
Between the two of us, we needed to decide what we wanted the marketing company to focus on in the next quarter so that we could go into our meeting tomorrow with a plan.
I had a feeling that was what he was thinking about now, too.
For an old-timer like him, Dad was usually pretty good at marketing strategies that worked for social media as well.
He was surprisingly open-minded about it, and while we paid Walker Marketing for the actual execution and the streamlining of his ideas, he liked to have a bit of control over the starting point of the process.
“I’ve been thinking about this meeting with Nathan’s people tomorrow,” he said, confirming my suspicions as to what had had the gears turning in his head. “A lot of people out there know the Anderson name, but they don’t know us.”
“Fair enough.” That was how I preferred it, but I could already tell that was about to change. “Do you want them to get to know us?”
He stared into the distance for another moment before he turned to look at me.
Over the last few years, the lines on his face had deepened into troughs that told the story of a life lived out in the Texas sunshine.
His hair was also mostly silver now and jagged crow’s feet surrounded his hunter green eyes.
The level of respect I had for the man was beyond what I would ever be able to explain.
Whatever plan he had, I would go along with. Even if I didn’t like it and even if I had a go at it my own way.
He held my gaze and nodded. “I want to focus on what life on the ranch looks like. I’d like to show people who the Anderson family is.
Let them see how we make our milks and raise our animals.
That’s what makes us different. It’s what separates our products from the rest and I want people to see it with their own eyes. ”
“I like our privacy, but okay. We’ll pitch it to Nathan’s people.”
Dad looked back out over the fields. “We’ll maintain our privacy, Charlie.
We’re just also going to show people who we really are.
We have a well-loved brand that brings in billions, but I want to get more personal.
This has never been about the money for us, and the bigger we get, the more people are going to start thinking we’re just like any other conglomerate. ”
“I’m not sold, but I trust your perspective. If you think this is what we need, then it’s what we’ll do.”
“Isn’t it what we need?” he asked thoughtfully, absently rubbing his chin.
His gaze took on that faraway glaze. “We’re one of the few wholly family owned and operated ranches left that produce on the scale we do.
We’ve never taken on any partners or sold a stake to someone who doesn’t have Anderson blood.
I think it’s important for people to know that about us. ”
“Do you think they’ll care?”
He considered my question. “I do, and if they don’t, I’d like to show them why they need to. I’m proud of what we have here, Charlie. I always have been. I’m proud of what we’ve built and how we’ve gone about it.”
“So am I, but is it a marketing strategy that will deliver the kind of results you’re hoping for? I don’t know.”
“The only result I’m hoping for is that people get to know us and what we’re about. I’m tired of being just another name among many, son. I want our brand to start really meaning something to people.”
“So this is about legacy?” I asked. “What do you think Nathan’s people are going to say about that?”
“I don’t really care.” He glanced at me and rolled his eyes. “You know me better than to think I’d give a damn about their opinions. This is what I want. They’ll make it happen.”
I laughed. “So that’s where I get my stubborn streak from, huh?
Thanks for the reminder, Dad, but maybe I should make myself a little clearer.
What do you think Nathan’s daughter is going to do with that idea?
If you want us to maintain any semblance of privacy, I wouldn’t tell some big-city woman you want the world to get to know us.
She’ll probably put us on a reality show. ”
Dad blanched. “I don’t know what that is, but I don’t like the sound of it. We’re not agreeing to that.”
“Excellent. That’s what I was hoping you were going to say.” I winked at him. “I’ll follow you around with a camera if you ever want to find out what a reality show is.”
He frowned, his gaze searching mine like he was uncertain if I was kidding or not. “It’s one of them shows where people just blab on and on about their lives? I’ve seen your mother watching some of those. Can’t even stand to sit down in front of my own TV when they’re on.”
“That’s exactly it.” I pumped my eyebrows. “Why not, Dad? It’ll be like Getting to Know the Andersons.”
“Absolutely not,” he said seriously.
I chuckled. “If I were you, I’d think of a way to introduce our family to the world without a reality show before you pitch it to the big-city marketing lady.
Or else we might just find ourselves catering for film crews and speaking into cameras for the next couple months. Dallas will have to make a sex tape.”
Dad shook his head. “There is no way we’re doing any of that. I’ll give it some thought tonight and you and I can talk about it in the morning.”
I drained my tea and got to my feet. Setting my hat back on my head, I backed toward the stairs leading down from their front porch. “Alright, Dad. Let me know if I can help you brainstorm. Until then, I think I’ll head to bed.”
Dad gave me a short wave. “Good night, son. Don’t worry about a TV show all night now. No matter what Nathan’s daughter is like, we’ll do this without allowing her to call up any film crews. Nathan wouldn’t let her anyway. That’s just not how he does business and I’m sure she’s just the same.”
I jogged down the stairs and hoped to everything that was holy that my father was right about her. All week, I’d had this nagging feeling in my gut about the meeting tomorrow and it was making me a touch anxious.
When Friday morning arrived, I huffed out a breath as I watched an entourage of fancy cars pulling onto the ranch. It looked like there was a parade happening or something, but Nathan had definitely brought reinforcements.
Why, I didn’t know, but I rolled my eyes at the low-slung, useless vehicles they’d come in and walked to the barn where meetings always took place.
I hoped Dad hadn’t planned on inviting them to take a drive around and look at the place he wanted people to get to know.
Those cars wouldn’t survive any of the roads on this farm except for the one they were on—and I sure as hell wasn’t acting as their driver.
Nathan’s daughter, whoever she was and whichever teams she’d brought along with her, was on her own.
I hadn’t asked her father to retire and I hadn’t even met her yet, but I wasn’t looking forward to working with her.
Change was always hard, but this time, I had a feeling that adapting was going to be impossible.