Tyler
“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” I say matter-of-factly at their ridiculous suggestion.
“Why not, man? It’s not like you’ll be signing autographs and dodging the paps. It’s just some photos for social media.”
“Because I fucking said no. I don’t want my face all over social media and I don’t have the time for any of that shit. We have, like, 30 cousins. Why can’t you go pick one of them?”
“We at Slade feel li—” Brooklyn starts, but I cut her off.
“We?” I interrupt.
“Yes, we, Tyler. She works here now. She’s part of the Slade Brewing family.”
“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” I know I sound petulant, but what the actual fuck? “This broad shows up like two days ago and she’s already calling the shots around here?”
“That’s her job, Tyler. Don’t be an asshole. She is extremely successful in her field and I promised her she’d have our full support in whatever decisions she decides are best.”
“Well, that’s on you. I never promised shit!” I can feel my blood pressure rising. I pull off my hat and run my hands through my hair. Trent’s not wrong about me needing a haircut.
“Look, Tyler,” Brooklyn starts, “I’m not trying to step on your toes or come in here and piss you off, but I am damn good at my job and I need you to trust me on this. I know I’m just a broad, but I’ve got balls.”
I stare at her. She crosses her arms, letting me know she’s serious and she’s standing her ground. I respect that.
“I didn’t mean it in an offensive way. The broad comment, that is,” I elaborate. She raises both hands as if to say she understands. “Why me?”
“You’re the center of the Venn diagram.”
I run my hands over my face. “The what now?”
Brooklyn reaches for her iPad, flipping open the cover and turning it around to face me. She tilts her head around the screen to zoom in on a particular chart. “Based on the demographics of people who drink Slade beer, whiskey, and seltzer—”
“God, not another PowerPoint, please.”
She snaps the cover closed. “Okay, so we took several polls and we know that we have a very solid base with baby boomers and Gen X-ers with our whiskey and beer offerings, and we’ve had a massive increase in sales with millennials lately with our new seltzers and some of our IPAs and craft-style beers.”
“I still don’t see how I fit in here. Obviously, I like the stuff too.” I feel like an idiot but I’m not seeing her point.
“The older generations are pretty solid whiskey and beer drinkers. They like the idea of a rugged, self-made man who still works with his hands and has a simple life. Then we have the younger generations—the hipsters, the ones who love a family-owned business and are opting out of having children to adopt animals and homestead. That’s trending like crazy right now.”
“I’m trending?” I shake my head. This is a hard lifestyle; the kids nowadays have no idea. I stand up and put my hat back on. “Ranching ain’t a trend. This is my life and I’m not going to pimp myself out to cater to some naive idea of what mountain life is like.”
“Just think about it, Tyler. You don’t have to make a decision right now,” Trent says as he steps aside so I can leave Brooklyn’s office.
I’m frustrated. I’d like for it to just be accepted if I say I don’t want to do something. I’m all for being a team player, but I like my privacy and my quiet life on the ranch. The last thing I want is a camera crew in my face telling me to smile and showing me how to pose.
I check my phone. I’ll just make it to the cattle auction in time. I send a quick text to Ranger letting him know I’m on my way.
“Tyler, wait!” I turn around to see Brooklyn power walking in her high heels across the parking lot.
Damn, how’d I miss how fucking sexy her legs look in that skirt and those heels? I shake my head as if that will clear the thoughts from my head. Now that she works for my father’s company, that fantasy is over.
I don’t stop walking until I get to my truck. She’s right on my heels, panting from the slight jog.
“Altitude,” she says, trying to catch her breath.
“I need to get to work, ma’am.” I reach for the handle of my door and pull it open.
“Ma’am? I wasn’t ma’am last night when your tongue was down my throat.”