our baby sister. “Open up and he can pour it down your throat.”
Mari winces. “Can we please curtail the sexual innuendo?”
“Dude.” Gabe shakes his head. “You’re the one who went there, Mar. I’m just pouring coffee.”
“Tsk-tsk.” Lauren gives her sternest finger wag. “Now who’s the perv, Mari?”
Hearing my siblings bicker floods me with a bewildering surge of affection. I know I need to step in and bring us back on track, but I’m enjoying this pleasant, nostalgic buzz.
“Dean, where’s your mug?” Gabe holds up the pot as Lana scurries across the boardroom to reclaim hers.
Lauren rolls her eyes. “He probably shoved it up his ass to keep us from taking it.”
“Ha ha.” I pull it out of my briefcase and set it on the table. “Thanks, man.”
“No prob.”
Across the room, Colleen looks up from her laptop. I’m not sure if she’s working on coffee shop business, wildlife research, or hacking the dark web. Maybe all three. She catches my eye and gestures to the state-of-the-art espresso machine behind the bar. “Need more?” she mouths.
I shake my head and turn to the next page in the business plan. “Can we please get back on track? I have a meeting with Tia Nelson at Sun Daisy Organic Ranch.”
Cooper perks up. “Is she signing on to be part of the show?”
“Possibly.”
I don’t want to get his hopes up. He’s been nuts about organic farming since he got sober and committed to clean living. I should probably hand the whole thing off to him, but I hate to see him disappointed if Tia keeps declining. Sobriety’s a fragile thing, and I’d do anything to safeguard it for my brother.
“Let me know if you want help,” Cooper says.
“Thanks. We’re making progress.” The truth is it’s still a firm “hell no” from the testy rancher whose property adjoins ours. I glance at my watch, surprised to see it’s almost four. “Vanessa’s meeting me in the parking lot so we can drive over together.”
Coop takes a swig from his coffee mug. “Good luck.”
Gabe flips a few pages ahead in his packet. “Can we talk about this section on competing networks?”
“What about it?” I turn to the page, stifling my frustration at going out of order. “You still worried about the Voltan Network?”
Lauren sits up straighter. “I’m hearing more grapevine gossip. Their programming director isn’t thrilled we’re planning to go up against their top-rated show.”
Cooper kicks back in his chair holding a pen shaped like a hot dog. A vegan one, I presume. “Voltan’s ratings have been in a nosedive for months,” he says. “If it tanks, it won’t be our fault.”
“Tell that to the Voltan execs,” Gabe mutters, glancing at Lana. “You worked with Bob Voltan on that campaign a few years back, right?”
She makes a face and creases the corner of a page in her packet. “Spiteful asshole. He wanted me to help him figure out how to game the ratings. He didn’t give a damn about making good television.”
“But we do.” Lauren folds her arms over her chest. “And that’s why we’ll kick his ass.”
A niggle of worry moves through me. I’ve only met Bob Voltan a handful of times, but his network is unquestionably our biggest competitor. Lana’s right, he’s an asshole. Is he the kind of asshole who’d sabotage a competitor’s show?
Something dings across the room, and I glance up to see Colleen pushing her laptop aside and striding into the small kitchen off the coffee bar. Moments later, she emerges holding a plate piled high with muffins.
“Oh my God, you’re an angel.” Lana stands to take the stack of paper plates from her hand, divvying them up between us. “Are these the marionberry ones you made the other day?”
“Nah, this is huckleberry lemon,” she says. “Patti and I were out this morning checking the wildlife cams. We found a whole mess of ‘em right below the ridgeline.”
“Mmmph, this is amazing.” Mari bites right into one, while Lauren carefully cuts hers into perfect quarters. “So good.”
Cooper nods his approval around a mouthful of muffin. “You’re the most badass baker slash biologist slash internet hacker I’ve ever known.”
Colleen laughs and dusts crumbs off her hands. “Yeah, speaking of that, I’ve been battening down the hatches on your website. Whoever managed to hack their way in, they’ll have to work a lot harder next time.”
I try not to hang up on the idea that there might be a “next time,” or the fear that our prankster might have more on the agenda than making us