His frown lifts then. “All right,” he says softly. He gives me a strange look. “You really like her, don’t you?”
“What makes you say that?”
“I can’t imagine anyone else cutting through your cynicism like this. You want to believe she’s genuine.”
I stuff the laptop up under my arm and shove my hands in my trouser pockets. “I liked her. She’s warm and funny. And she’s so smart, Marcus.” I look at him earnestly. “The soil restoration program she’s worked on is incredible.”
“You go in there and tell Dad that, you know what’s going to happen. He’ll sign the agreement with Tom, and Rutherfords will have a foot in the door. Is that really what you want?”
“Of course not.”
“Then you have to forget about her.”
“That’s not what this is about!” Frustration makes me raise my voice. “Combined with ours, her system would be groundbreaking. Shouldn’t we look past our personal issues and think about that?”
He pauses and surveys me steadily. Then he says softly, “You just need to make sure you’re thinking with your head, that’s all.”
“Christ, why does everyone seem to assume I think with my dick?”
“I meant as opposed to your heart.”
“Oh.”
Our lips curve up, and we both give a wry laugh. “Come on,” I tell him, slapping him on the shoulder and turning him to face the boardroom. “Let’s get this over with.”
“I’ll back you,” he says as we walk along the corridor. “Whatever you want to do.”
I feel a sweep of affection for him, and relief that he’s so supportive. “Thanks,” I say as we reach the glass door, my voice husky. “I appreciate it.”
He nods, opens the door, and we go inside.
Sir Malcolm Reid, the CEO of one of the biggest banks in New Zealand, is sitting on one side of the table, along with Hemi Te Rangi, a large dairy industry leader. Caroline Bennett, who resigned after her slip that revealed Marcus’s arranged marriage to Wren, has been replaced by Emily Crawford, another agritech investor, and she’s sitting next to Hemi.
Opposite them sits Aurelia, and then my father is at the end of the table. He looks up as we enter and says, “Glad you could make it.”
Marcus and I exchange a look as we take our seats. Dad has a thing about punctuality. Mind you, it’s still a minute to ten, so we’re not exactly late. He’s irritable, and I have no doubt it’s because he’s nervous about this meeting.
I’m not surprised. Malcolm and Hemi were both supportive of Tom’s offer of acquisition before Christmas, and it was they who pressured Dad into providing us with an ultimatum to settle down because they said investors wanted reassurance about leadership continuity. It was a valid point, I suppose, considering Dad is thinking about retirement, but it was a hard pill to swallow. None of us liked being treated like medieval heirs, and as the eldest, I think I felt it hardest.
“Okay,” Dad says, leaning forward and resting on the table. “Let’s get down to business. Caesar, do you want to start with a summary of your meeting with Maddie Rutherford at Blackridge?”
I nod and hand them all a folder that contains, among other things, a copy of Maddie’s soil test results. I then give a short rundown of what happened at the Station, omitting any personal details, of course. I explain the setup, the Verdant model, and then tell them about Maddie’s soil restoration system. When I explain the results, everyone’s jaw drops.
“You’re serious?” Dad stares at the figures. “And this column is where she’s manually checked the sensor units?”
“Yes. As you can see, it’s increased pasture productivity by twenty-five percent so they can run more stock on the same land.”
“How?” Hemi asks.
I go into a bit more detail about how she tailored the pasture species to each section of land. “Verdant isn’t the news here,” I tell them. “This,” and I tap the results sheet, “is where the future lies.”
“Why on earth didn’t Tom lead with this?” Dad asks, genuinely shocked.
“She included the results in the pack we were given, but only in the Appendix, and there was no explanation given.” I shrug. “I don’t think they thought it was flashy enough to garner attention compared with Verdant. AI’s such a hot topic, so it has more algorithm love, and it’s easier to hashtag.”
“Maybe she just forgot,” Aurelia says mischievously. “They say your memory goes out of the window when you have a baby.”
“What?” Marcus asks.
