“I asked Christina for her number. That’s not rocket science.”
I sit in thought for a moment. I’ve always been so intimidated by Christina that I avoid asking for anything.
His eyebrows rise. “Hello? Did you hear me?”
“Sorry.” I shake my head. “What did you say?”
“She lives here, but her family owns a cattle ranch in Montana.”
“Montana? That’s quite a difference from New York City.”
“Yeah. Obviously.” He gives me aduhexpression, then continues, “She misses her life back home, and this was a way for her to tie her two worlds together. I guess her grandma used to use beef tallow on her skin, and she used it growing up as well.”
“Oh wow. That’s cool.”
“Yeah, so she wants to tie parts of her childhood in somehow.”
“Do you know why she stopped using it?”
He shrugs, almost like he’s annoyed that I asked that question. “I don’t know. Because it’s beef fat.”
“Did you research the actual product and how good it is for your skin or just focus on this woman?”
“Of course I researched the product. And, yes, I found all the benefits it can offer.” He opens a folder that’s sitting next to him and hands me a printout, explaining how it’s nutrient-rich and full of vitamins, minerals, and fatty acids.
I glance over it, then set it down and look back at him.
“So, what’s the competition like?” I ask.
“She’s getting in when it’s just starting to explode, so there’s competition, but from smaller, family-owned companies. With the right campaigns, she could run the market just due to the visibility she can afford over the others.”
“What vibe is she wanting? High-end or family farm?”
“Both.” He looks straight into my eyes. “That’s where we come in. Since it’s her family farm, she wants that aspect, but she wants to sell it to the elite of Manhattan and make them think it’s worth the extra fifty dollars she’s putting on each bottle because it will be marketed as high-end.”
I nod, my mind already racing with ideas.
He pulls out a few more sheets of paper. “Here’s the competition.”
I glance over the product sheets he laid before me. They are very different, but all have the same theme of a cow or bullhorns in some kind of way. Some are bright colors, and some are muted. Instantly, I can tell which are family-owned, like they’re doing everything themselves out of their garage, and who is trying to be more high-end. I understand though how each brand has its own market and how they are trying to attract just that.
“Okay.” I nod. “Good work.”
I truly mean it and am surprised when he acknowledges what I said.
“DidtheZoe Jones just give me a compliment?” He places his hand to his chest, like he’s in shock.
I roll my eyes at him, then move on to my part of the project and lay out everything I’ve been working on in front of him.
“I start with as many different ideas as I can come up with and then see how I can whittle them down or merge them in some way.”
“You drew these?” he asks, looking up at me and pointing to one of a little girl hugging a cow.
“Yeah. If they like the concept, we can hire a professional artist.”
“I don’t see the need for that. I didn’t know you could draw.”
I’m a little taken aback by his comment, and I’m mad at myself for when he notices before moving on.
