Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 115683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
“Shut up,” Colt says smoothly.
“Make me.”
Dale drops the side of his face into his hand. “Y’all, Lainey is up there doing the Lord’s work trying to make the ranch a more lucrative operation so that when I pass it on to you, y’all don’t gotta worry about money. But now I’m thinking I just might pass it on to her instead.”
Billie nods. “Girl power.”
“Anyway,” I say with a smile. “I kept the color palette somewhat neutral in keeping with the yellow tones Dean and I agreed on. I was inspired by what I’ve observed around the ranch. This is a glorious time of year, and I hoped to capture that in the palette.”
My heart works its way up to my throat as I click to the next slide. This is the meat and potatoes of my presentation—the logos themselves.
I spent whole weeks working through my ideas. At first, I agreed with Colt about avoiding horseshoes so we wouldn’t echo Lucky River Ranch’s logo. I focused instead on horses, barns, longhorns. That kind of thing.
None of it felt right, though. Because I’m sticking with Double U Ranch, I kept coming back to the idea of two horseshoes looped together. Seemed too obvious at first, but then I started playing around with monogram-type letters, only done in a rustic, literal “branding” style, and it suddenly clicked.
So now the logo looks like this: a pair of intertwined horseshoes with the ends pointing up, creating a W. Beneath that is written “Double U Ranch” in a cool serif font that’s a total classic with a Western twist.
I present several spins on the same idea, each one a slightly different iteration of the original logo. I have the whole thing in white against a marigold yellow background. In the next option, I added some turquoise and oxblood red.
It’s all totally different from anything I’ve ever done before.
My whole being swells with pride as I look at my work. To be honest, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to create a damn thing when I first arrived and Colt met me with his surliness and his cigars.
But nevertheless, I persevered. And I’m damn proud of what I have to show for it.
Even if the room goes dead silent. Seriously, you could hear a pin drop for how quiet everyone suddenly gets.
I look out over the table, trying to gauge what’s going on. Is this not what they were expecting? They loved the color palette, so surely I can’t be too off the mark with the logos.
Then: a clap.
I blink, pulse skidding to a painful stop when Colt stands and claps again. And again. Slowly.
“Are you giving me a golf clap?” I can only stare at him, slightly panicked and completely bewildered.
He shakes his head but continues to clap. “I’m giving you a holy-fuck-you-knocked-it-out-of-the-park clap. I don’t know which logo to pick because I love them all.”
Billie jumps to her feet. “Lainey, this deserves a standing ovation. I am obsessed.”
“Lai-ney,” Mack chants, standing too.
Then everyone is getting to their feet and chanting my name. Lai-ney. Lai-ney. Lai-ney.
I put a hand to my face, my eyes filling with tears all over again. “But I haven’t even gotten to the taglines yet! Or my ideas for the website pages! And the business cards and letterhead and merch and…well, everything else.”
But they just keep chanting my name.
I blush so furiously I must be the color of a tomato. I’ve been taught to never ever cry on the job. It’s unprofessional, and it makes everyone uncomfortable.
Up until now, I’ve stuck to that rule. But now—I don’t know, I’m wondering if there are no rules anymore.
I’m wondering if I get to make them up, since this is my presentation. My blood, sweat, and tears up there on the screen.
What if this is what work was meant to feel like all along?
I burst into tears. Putting a hand over my face, I wonder at my ability to smile and sob at the same time.
The clapping reaches a crescendo, and then everyone is hollering and whistling and just being all-around joyous. It feels like a holiday.
It feels like home.
“Y’all,” I manage when the room quiets a little bit. “Why—I mean, you didn’t have to… It’s just some logos.”
Paige comes over to wrap me in a hug. “It’s more than that, Lainey. It’s you capturing who we are in a beautiful way.”
But really, I need to stop crying. “Branding and marketing—they’re an art and a science. Same could be said about what y’all do too. Maybe that’s why I was able to, you know, capture the spirit of Double U.”
“I like that idea,” Colt says.
Fuck you, you perfect piece of cowboy ass.
Fuck you for making me fall head over heels in love with you.
Everyone sits so I can complete the presentation. When I do, I open up the floor for feedback.