Chapter Twenty-Five
Nash eyed the nearest freezer. Being alone in a room with unlimited ice cream samples was not helping him get work done. Ice cream truck music played in Nash’s head when Charlie entered the room. He was out making the rounds, systematically testing the ice cream in their plant about twenty minutes north. He’d left a note saying he’d be back in time for the taste-off.
In Charlie’s absence, his staff had cooked up—or frozen up?—a cheesecake caramel and peanut butter concoction. They had several variations on the recipe in the freezer for taste testing. The cheesecake ice cream was enough to make him forget his work, but the caramel and peanut butter swirls had him salivating. And maybe coping.
He now understood why people turned to ice cream in troubled times—it was a powerful concoction that could wipe away his troubles for as long as it took to devour a pint.
He ran a hand through his hair as he studied the latest product design from Julia’s team. They’d used greens and pinks and balloon letters in high contrast to the red, white, and blue block letters they’d submitted last week.
He was faced with the same problem—why change up packaging if it wasn’t going to increase the bottom line? The trouble was that he had two bottom lines to consider. One was financial, and the other was the vote for CEO. If he alienated Julia by turning down yet another design, and she voted for Raquel, then he’d failed. He had told Kenzi on the way in that morning that he would invite Julia to lunch with the two of them, and they could tag-team it like they did at dinner with Guy.
On the other hand, his conscience wouldn’t allow him to approve a shift in their branding that didn’t bring in more money. Why change for the sake of change?
He had to be true to himself. Bending the rules or playing the corporate game, even for Kenzi, would be sliding backwards. He knew what was behind him, and he didn’t want to go back there. He typed up an encouraging note that said while he liked the design, it wasn’t the right one for Hazel’s, and sent it off.
In less time than it took him to read the next email, Julia was standing behind him, her hands on her hips. “Do you have a moment, Mr. Westport?”
He swiveled around on the barstool. “Of course. Have a seat.” He waved to the spot one over from him, leaving an empty stool in the middle. “I’m sorry I don’t have a better chair to offer you. The office is sparse, but there’s perks. Would you like a sample?”
“No, thank you.” She crossed her legs and leaned her elbow on the counter.
“Then what can I help you with?”
“I have a graphic designer upstairs in tears because of you.”
Nash flinched. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Perhaps if you could give us more direction, then we could come up with something you’ll approve of.”
Nash bounced his leg as he thought through the best way to handle the situation. “The packaging should reflect the direction of the company as well as the image we want to project.”
Julia stared at him, waiting for something more profound than Marketing 101.
Nash pulled up the images she’d sent him, as well as a picture of their existing packaging. “This looks like Arthur Donegal. The clean lines, lots of white space with the splash of color on the lids.” Now that he looked at all of them, he realized how much they resembled the main area of the mansion. “The new designs are cluttered and modern and overwhelming. They don’t remind me of Kensington at all.” He clamped his lips shut, knowing he’d said too much.
Julia, on the other hand, started talking. “I don’t think we should design the packaging in remembrance of a person who won’t be with the company for long.”
Nash’s hands went as cold as the pints in the freezer. “Would you care to elaborate on that statement?”
“Can I speak honestly?”
No.“I’d prefer you did.” The correct answer came out even though he would rather stuff napkins in his ears and yellla-la-la-launtil Julia went away.
“She’s not cut out to be CEO.”
Nash’s heart sank. “I guess that means you aren’t going to accept our invitation to lunch today.”
“I have no problem with Mrs. Westport as a person. But—Mr. Westport, forgive me for being frank—she’s been on top her whole life. When has she ever had to scrap for market share or deal with product failure?”
“They have rigid testing protocols that all but guarantee a new flavor will be successful.”
“Which slow down product development and put us behind the market. We shouldn’t be chasing trends; we should be setting them.”
“And in some areas, we do.”
“In the approved areas.”
“So you won’t vote for her to be CEO?”
