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But I had to get my head in the game for this meeting with Jason Romero. He was running for governor and had caught a lot of heat for outsourcing so much labor in his business. I wasn’t sure why he requested to see me, but I’d always take a meeting. Just one, to see if something was worth my time.

I asked Mia for a coffee and went to my office to get a little more work in before Jason arrived.

Working with Farrah and her children had been enlightening and far too distracting. She was so natural with them, firm but loving. She didn’t seem annoyed by them, and they seemed to respect her in their own playful way. It added dimension to this woman who was already an enigma to me.

I was so deep in my thoughts, I almost didn’t realize when Mia came into my office with a coffee and a middle-aged man.

“Jason Romero,” he said, extending his hand.

I gripped it. “Gage Griffen.” His shake was solid, but his hands were sweaty. Even though he was in his late forties, his face was nearly clear of wrinkles, as if he’d gotten Botox like my publicist kept encouraging me to do. His skin was lightly tanned, his teeth perfectly white, and his dark brown hair thick and combed to the side. Everything about him said polish. Power. But not the brutish kind—the kind that always showed up when you least expected it.

I tucked that information in the back of my mind as I invited him to sit at my table and then took the coffee from Mia. “I was just having a little afternoon pick-me-up,” I said. “Would you like a cappuccino or maybe a tea?”

Jason lifted his chin to Mia. “Why don’t get you get me a coffee with a splash of cream, doll face?”

Her smile tightened as she said, “Okay.”

“Her name is Mia,” I corrected as she left to get his coffee. “What can I help you with, Mr. Romero?”

“Call me Jason,” he said, leaning on the table with his hands clasped together. I almost watched for a sweat spot to appear on the glass top. He gazed out the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Quite the view. Hard to believe a kid from Cottonwood Falls is sitting up here.”

“You’d be surprised the resourcefulness and work ethic present in my hometown,” I replied. “It just takes the desire.” I sipped my coffee. “But then again, you know that. West Texas isn’t exactly metropolitan.”

He nodded. “You and me, we’re cut from the same cloth. We both understand what it takes to rise above humble beginnings and create something great.”

I didn’t exactly consider what I was doing “above” my family farm. Dad worked just as hard or harder than I did to keep it running. Our goals were just different. I wanted to create a business that could support families like the one I grew up in. My dad wanted to support his own family and no one else.

“I was surprised you called a meeting with me,” I said, hoping to get to the point. “I’m sure you’re busy on the campaign trail with elections coming up next year.”

“This was more important,” he said. “Everyone in Texas knows Romero Corp. I doubt there’s a car on the road here that was made without parts from one of our facilities.”

I nodded, having already done my research.

“But a lot of people, a lot ofvoters, are wondering why we outsourced labor in favor of a better bottom line.”

Hell, I wondered the same thing. I didn’t deal much in manufacturing, but from what I knew, it could be harder to make sure labor conditions were fair when outsourcing.

“So, Romero Corp is announcing a new location in West Texas,” he continued. “It will be a smaller plant but should employ a hundred people full-time. The only problem is without a significant infusion of capital, the build won’t be complete for another... three years.”

“After the election,” I said.

He nodded.

He wanted to build a plant to help him win the election, not to help his hometown.

“How long are you planning to keep the plant open?” I asked.

“As long as we can keep it staffed,” he said. “It wouldn’t be in my... I mean, Romero Corp’s best interest to open it up only to shut it down after election. With the deal I’m hoping to cut you, it will take at least ten years to break even.”

I chewed over the information and thought about something Will Price, my biggest mentor in life and business, had told me before he passed a few years back. He’d said I was so principled I couldn’t see the forest through the trees. Meaning, I got caught up in the details being right that I missed the big picture.

I knew how he’d look at this. He’d say,The people are getting jobs, Griffen, doesn’t matter the motivation. Don’t you want to be a part of that?

Keeping that in mind, I said, “Tell me more.”

* * *

Miaand I got in the back of a town car with my publicist, Tallie Hyde, to ride to the Headline Building across town, home to one of the biggest news stations in Texas. As soon as I was buckled in, Tallie passed me a sheet of paper with Griffen Industries printed across the top in black and blue letters.