“Where are you going?” Lilly asked when she got back from the barn and Sinclair stepped out in his best jeans and a white silk shirt that hugged him in all the right places.
“Out to dinner,” he told her. “And I have lots of ideas for the reception that I want to go over with you to see what you think.”
Lilly shrugged. “God, I have no idea, other than I know I want it nice and so it doesn’t look like our seventh-grade square-dance party.” She slumped in the chair across from him, and he reviewed everything with her.
“The only thing I don’t know about are the flowers for the tables. I haven’t hit on something just right yet.”
“Keep it simple, with bright colors. I think that’s best, and I love the hanging candle idea. It will help fill the space and add a warm glow. But we’ll need to find the holders soon and get them ordered. Oh, and Ben and his friends are planning to start building the dais next week.”
“So everything is in hand,” Sinclair said. “I was thinking we could use wildflowers in the centerpieces. Do you have the florist picked out?”
“Yes. You can review your thoughts with her when you get a chance. But it seems that I have finally gotten the details right. Can you pick up the fabric for the sprays in Houston and have it shipped? That way we’ll have everything, and once the construction is done, as well as the plantings outside, we’ll be set.”
“Plantings?” he asked, and could just imagine what Dawson was going to think of all that.
“I want flowers outside too,” Lilly said as though he was being obtuse.
“Then decide how many planters you want, and we can use them to line that path. That way it will be portable, and you and Ben can use them back at home once the ceremony is over.” It would also avoid a Dawson fit with flowers planted all over the ranch. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I don’t want to be late.”
“Who are you going out with?” Lilly asked. “Did you go out to the bar and meet someone?”
He sighed. “If you must know, I’m having dinner with Dawson.” Sinclair smirked. “It seems some of my assumptions were off.” He stood, tugged his shirt slightly so it hung right, and leaned over the table to counter her smugness. “You have your cowboy, so why can’t I?” He headed for the door. “I’ll see you later, cousin, and… don’t wait up.” He was out the door before she could comment, though he heard her laughing as the door closed.
The drive didn’t take long, and he parked his car outside Dawson’s quarters, then knocked on the door. Georgia barked inside, and as soon as the door opened, she raced around his legs before jumping up in excitement. Sinclair picked her up gently and got licked in the face as a reward.
“She likes you. That’s a good sign,” Dawson said, almost smiling.
Sinclair put her down, and she ran to Dawson with the same excitement. “My mother never let me have a dog growing up. She was allergic to them, so I never got to have any pets. My father loved animals, but it was something she couldn’t have in the house.” He reached down, and Georgia hurried over for more attention. “Are you ready?”
Dawson grabbed his hat, and Georgia climbed onto the chair, her tail wagging as they headed for the door.
“I called ahead because apparently they have a tendency to run out, and I didn’t want that to happen.”
“We must be going to Hartzle’s then,” Dawson said. “And yes. They stop serving dinner when the food is gone.” He smiled. “And you made a good choice.”
“I asked Ky and Brodie when I saw them earlier, and they told me where to go and what to do. I think Ky might have made a call on my behalf.” Sinclair got into the car and waited for Dawson to slide in, then started the engine and added the address to the GPS. “I’ve never been there before.”
“I have. It’s good and very consistent. They have their secret recipe, just like many of these places do, but what I really like is that it’s usually like you remember. They started maybe twenty or more years ago as just a place that cooked great barbeque. You arrived and got what you wanted to take home. Then they expanded a little and added picnic tables under a pavilion and on the lawn. Now they’ve added on again, making it a full-service restaurant, but it’s still the same food, and you can get it to go too. I understand that they have people there from three in the morning until the restaurant closes at nine, and there are folks who are there as soon as the first brisket comes off the grill in the morning.”
“Sounds like just the place I was looking for. Maybe I can talk to them about doing the wedding,” Sinclair said, thinking out loud.
“They don’t do that. Everything they cook, they sell, and they don’t have additional capacity right now. At least they didn’t the last time I was there. I heard someone asking then.” Dawson grew quiet, and Sinclair found himself back at square one.
“How was your day today?” he asked when the silence began to hang between them.
“It was okay. The usual, I guess. Always more to do than hours in the day. Still, we keep the place humming. How about you?”
“Two conference calls after I left. There are a couple VPs and a few directors who want to expand what we do. They have it in their heads that we should be able to provide everything for all of our projects. The problem is that there are people who already make what they’re suggesting we add to our line, and they make a fine product. Unless we can figure out a way to make it better and less expensive, I’m not going to green-light it. That’s got some people miffed, but that’s just the way it is.”
“Are they researching how to do that?” Dawson asked.
“Yes. But I’m about to pull the plug on that too. They aren’t making progress, and it’s costing too much money to keep trying. They need to keep innovating around our core products so we can remain at the top of the market.” Sometimes people didn’t see the forest for the trees.
“It makes sense to me,” Dawson commented. “You can’t do everything.”
“No, we can’t, but I’m thinking I might need to either replace a director or terminate someone. That will get the message across. I hate doing that, but everyone needs to be on the same team, and what I have at the moment is open dissention and hostility to opposing views. Opposing idea are good—bringing a different perspective to the table is encouraged—but in this case, I’m afraid it’s beating a dead horse, and we need to move on.”
“I’m sorry if it was difficult.” The way Dawson looked at him was different and hard to figure out. “But I’m glad you told me.” He cleared his throat. “I honestly thought from when we talked before that you let the managers run the company. It seems to me you were downplaying your role.”
Sinclair shrugged. “I never really had a head for business, at least not the way my father had. But I do understand what we do best and how to capitalize on it.”
“You have a better head for business than you give yourself credit for. At first I was worried about Rita and Ky’s plans for the ranch, but now I see that what they’re doing is the same thing you are—making sure that what they do is the best. Ky wants to convert the entire cattle operation to organic methods. It will take time, but then we can charge much more for our beef and stand out in the area. Ben and Lilly know more about horses than anyone I know, so having them run all the horses for us removes my men from that work and makes us all more productive. I guess you could say that they know what business they are in.”