Page 25 of The Mysterious Billionaire
I could talk about it for hours, but I don’t. Nobody deserves that.
“You’ll find a summary of the results in your folders,” I tell them as I round up. “But I know you must be thinking, how does Ashford AgriTech fit into this?”
Marcus is leaning forward on the table. Caesar shifts in his chair. I glance at my grandfather, whose eyes shine. He can see they’re interested.
I swallow hard—this is the important bit. “Well, your system predicts pasture growth. Brielle’s looks for patterns over time and helps farmers adjust early to changes. If we were to integrate your predictive model with our system, I believe we could be looking at a significant uplift in pasture productivity across marginal land. You model yield. We improve it. Together, we increase it.”
I finish with the last slide, which is a photo I took of me standing next to Buttercup, one of the cows at Blackridge. My arm is around her, and from the angle the photo is taken, it looks as if she’s smiling.
“I understand why you’re reluctant to share your system,” I say earnestly. “But the child in me still wants to feed the world.” I glance at Marcus. “I know you’re looking at introducing a stripped-back version of your system to developing countries. Imagine what we could achieve if we work together.”
I hesitate, but he doesn’t say anything and neither do the others, so I return to my seat, resisting the urge to crawl under the table and live there permanently.
“Thanks, Maddie,” Edward says softly. He looks at his son sitting next to him. “Marcus? Anything you’d like to add?”
“I can see the attraction,” he says slowly. “Maddie’s right—the systems together could significantly improve yield.” He taps the folder. “And the science looks sound.”
“Aurelia?” Edward asks.
“I’m no scientist,” she says, “I’m involved in presenting the public face of the company. I was against an acquisition. But a strategic partnership that produced these results?” She shrugs. “It would play incredibly well in the market.”
Edward looks at his eldest son. “Caesar?”
The man sitting opposite me is playing with his pen, and as I watch, he flips it all the way through his fingers, a smooth move that makes Brielle give a short laugh beside me. I think she likes him. I’m not surprised by that, although I am startled by the stab of jealousy I feel.
He lifts his gaze to me and looks at me for a long moment. I hold his gaze, trying not to think about the way he looked into my eyes while he thrust inside me. But that night his eyes were warm, and now they’re ice-cold.
I lower my gaze, chilled to the bone. Aurelia has just helped herself to a hot drink, and the smell of coffee drifts across the table, making me feel queasy. I inhale and blow out a breath slowly, waiting for the wave of nausea to recede.
“Feeding the world is a romantic idea,” Caesar says, “but somehow I don’t think this story has a happily ever after.”
“I meant every word I said,” I tell him hotly.
“Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. That’s irrelevant. What I do doubt is that the rest of your family shares your idealistic intentions. It sounds like theory dressed up as impact, an excuse to get your foot in the door. How long before you completely take us over?”
Edward brushes a hand over his face, but he doesn’t object, and Marcus nods, so he obviously agrees.
“We have infrastructure Ashford doesn’t,” Brielle insists. “We’re talking about scaling this across tens of thousands of hectares within twelve months.”
“And don’t forget the capital we’re offering,” Tom says, “as well as our contacts. You’ve expanded into Europe, but you’ve struggled to get a foothold in the US and South America. We can help there.”
“It’s certainly worth a discussion,” Edward says smoothly. He turns to the financial projection in the folder. “Let’s talk facts and figures.”
We all turn to the page, and Edward, Marcus, and Gramps start talking about the financial side of things. I sit back, my work done. I look across the table at Caesar. He’s reading the figures, listening to the conversation, but he’s not joining in. I think he’s deeply resentful they’re even discussing it, but he knows the board can outvote him, and he owes it to the shareholders to hear us out.
He looks up then, catching me watching him. Our eyes meet, and my heart races. It’s impossible not to think about Little Raspberry.
Gosh, this is a tangled web. All it’s done is complicate the decision I have to make.
Or has it? I slump a little in my seat. Nothing’s changed, ultimately. If I have the baby, I’m still going to have to do it alone. There’s no way I can tell him now.
“Okay,” Edward says, “I think we’ve heard enough.” He sighs and looks directly at Tom. “You mentioned putting our cards on the table. Obviously, we’re cynical. We’ve all worked hard to make the company what it is, and none of us wants to hand it over to another firm. But I got into this business because I was excited to improve pasture growth. So my first instinct is to form an exploratory committee to investigate it further. I’d like to send someone down to Blackridge Station to look at the system firsthand.”
“Excellent idea,” Tom says.
Edward looks at Caesar. “I think you should go.”
Caesar looks startled. “What? Why me?”
