Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 157140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Now, his very existence stirs up this sick dread inside me, and I’m not sure why.
Maybe it’s the sun. The pristine beach behind him with its lapping waves in the background. The too-bright tropical drink in his hand, that neon-pink POG juice—pineapple, orange, and guava—and probably spiked with a splash of rum even when he’s on the clock.
Maybe it’s just the familiarity of those things. What should be a happy, carefree scene for anyone normal.
For me, it’s another reminder. Another swift descent into hell when I remember—
No. Don’t fucking go there.
Troy clears his throat. I’ve been staring at him like a manikin for too long.
A notebook flicks across the screen as he moves it from his left hand to his right. He leans forward, laser focused and quiet.
“So, the report...” he starts, flipping a few pages. “As I’m sure you saw, Sumatra Farms has upped production. We’ll hit three hundred thousand pounds this month—a new record and a damn good one, if I do say so myself—and we should only increase from there into peak growing season. I think by next quarter, we’ll be clearing over half a million pounds a month, easy. Do you want us to make a move on the land opportunities I reported last quarter, too? If we get those up and running, we could triple production next year.”
I don’t know why I’m frowning. Production has never been a major problem. Neither are our perfectly average beans harvested in bulk from sun-kissed island farms.
I’m getting antsy about that brew I tasted.
I need it.
I need her.
Technically, Wired Cup needs her, and I’m hopeful at least one of our bulk beans will fit for her magic.
“Cole? Everything okay?” Troy taps on his screen.
“Huh?” I blink at him.
“Do we need more acreage to boost production?”
“Whatever you think,” I say quickly. “That’s why I pay you the big bucks, isn’t it?” I force a smile, pretending we’re still old friends and not two awkward people pulled apart.
“Sure, sure.” His low chuckle is also forced. “Are you with me today, bossman? You seem distracted.”
Guilty as charged. And even if it’s been years since I had a real talk with Troy Clement, he still sees right through me.
“There’s been a development,” I say slowly. “I’m following up on an interesting lead for a new line of drinks to brighten up the brand. If this works, our fall flavors will be quite unlike anything we’ve previously brought to market.”
“Interesting.” Troy goes quiet for a second, his wide smile fading under the high tropical sun. “Can I ask why?”
“It’s a reset,” I tell him. “A gamble, if you will, on making our customers fall in love with our coffee again.”
“Uh, did something happen with sales I don’t know about? Are we in trouble? Am I ramping up production too much?” He reaches up and pulls down his shades, revealing eyes that gleam like silver mercury.
“No,” I throw back, my gut churning.
Why does he sound so panicked?
Like this isn’t the first time he’s questioning what the hell I’m doing?
“Sorry, Cole, but man, I guess I’m just not following...” He manages a strained smile. “If it’s not the market forcing our hand, then why change a sure thing? Aren’t we the best at what we do?”
I lean back in my chair, steepling my fingers.
“What is it you think we do so well? This isn’t a trick question.”
Still, he hesitates.
“Serve up reliable cups of joe, of course,” he says finally. “Give the people a taste they can always count on.”
“And that’s the problem I’m addressing. Our drinks are almost too reliable, and it’s been that way since my father’s days. We’ve been coasting for more than a decade, always focusing on new ways to sell the same product. We’re leaving money on the table and the younger demographic behind. We’ve scaled up, certainly, but this company hasn’t taken a major risk for thirty years.”
He stares through me, clearly questioning my sanity without coming out and saying it.
“Troy, you went to business school. I’m sure I don’t have to explain to you that the bigger the risk, the better the reward.”
He nods and opens his mouth sluggishly like he wants to choose his words very carefully.
I’m realizing I’m not done, though.
“As the chief executive officer of this organization, I don’t expect blind faith. I do, however, need your trust. In time, I’ll elaborate my thoughts for senior leadership,” I say, my eyes searching his over the screen.
He offers up what looks like a genuine smile.
“Nice. You got this, boss. Have I ever doubted you in all the years I’ve been your main man away from the mainland?” He grins like I just laughed at his phrasing. I didn’t. “Anyway, if you’ve got your heart set on this new experiment, I’m behind it a hundred percent. Change is the only constant, Cole.”