“You can’t see my face in any of the pics.”
“Oh, shit.” Gunnar’s eyes widen to the point of almost popping out of his head. He looks at Uncle Luke and then at me. “This video from two days ago has over 62,000 views.”
I close my eyes, my thumb and forefinger clamping the bridge of my nose. I inhale and exhale slowly three times before opening them to see my uncle staring at Gunnar’s phone. Then he starts to laugh, a slow chuckle which bubbles into a full-on fit.
Raising both hands in the air, I ask, “What is happening?”
I look to Gunnar, whose arms are crossed over his chest, his jaw flexing. He is not laughing.
While our uncle tries to catch his breath, I scan videos and find the one that’s at 62,000 views. Ford is splitting a large stump, and off to the side, so is my uncle.
He’s forty-two and extremely fit. He’s the one who taught us that splitting logs is a great stress reliever. Instead of letting us mope around in unhealthy feelings when our parents’ deaths got to be too much, he’d take us outside and split wood with us. These days, we still get together with him for workouts, which I’m guessing is why he’s in Ford’s video.
“You think this is funny?”
“That it took me being in the video for it to go viral? Yep. I do.”
All of us Wilder men play hard and work harder. But this is next-level.
I turn to Ford, ignoring my uncle. “How are our customers supposed to take you seriously with these damn thirst-trap videos out in the world? We own and run a multi-million dollar operation. We’re not content creators, dipshit. Take it down.”
I slam my phone down onto the table.
“Not going to happen.”
“Take it the fuck down. I run this mill, not you.”
Ford clamps his jaws tight. “If it weren’t for my sales, our last eight quarters would have been in the red. So eff off.” It’s true, but I can’t see anything past the red haze of anger flowing through me.
“Boys.” My uncle’s voice is sharp as his palm smacks the table, speaking to us like we’re still teens instead of thirty-four and twenty-nine. “Apologize.” I have no doubt he will back one of us against the wall if we don’t comply. Been there, done that, although it’s been years.
Running my tongue over my teeth, I stare at the ceiling, trying to find the words. As the oldest, it’s always been my job to set the example for the others. I bite back another wave of anger, letting the words come. “Sorry for saying that. I know your value here. I just don’t understand why you didn’t consider how this might impact the business.”
The door swings open, and our other brother, Brock, strides in, sawdust on his tee. He sits across from Ford. “They found out.” It’s not a question.
“You knew?” My voice rises two octaves as I try to process.
“You’re such a dick.” That’s from Gunnar.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist. I just found out this morning. I had to check on the deliveries, so it wasn’t my priority.” Brock is in charge of maintenance, overseeing all machinery throughout the mill.
Uncle Luke knocks on the table, a reminder to get back on track.
Ford looks around the table, his face masked with indifference. “So, what do you all want me to do?”
I keep my mouth shut because everyone already knows what I want. My uncle speaks first.
“There aren’t any identifying landmarks in the video. Just trees. It could be anywhere. And the video of me is from behind. Nobody would know it’s me.”
He basically just gave his approval for Ford to keep the account. Gunnar and Brock nod their acceptance.
I lean back in the chair, my words gritty. “Fine. But I need a guarantee that nothing in these videos will be tied to Wilder Industries. The second that shit happens, the account is deleted.”
Ford nods in agreement.
“Enough, kids. Hank & Lulu’s for lunch.”
My uncle leaves no room for arguing. It’s family first, always, and he works hard at reminding us of that. Having lost an older brother, he won’t put up with our crap for long. He’ll sell the place before he allows business to drive a wedge between us.
