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“BTS?” my dad asks.
“Behind the scenes,” I clarify.
“Oh, right. Yeah, those last two are definitely marketing, but since you used to do all the marketing here, I think it’d be fine. Maybe run it by Mom first,” he suggests.
“What about the charitable events?” I ask.
“Like what?” He leans back in his chair.
“I was thinking maybe we could do a charity event in the Grand Hall,” I say.
“I have a lot of contacts in Minneapolis if you’re interested in inviting some influential people,” Spencer offers.
“That would be incredible,” I say. “And I was also thinking we could create a brand-new blend that would be totally for charity. We could use the ball to kick off the blend, and we could either create our own foundation or maybe choose one related to heart disease since that’s what we lost Pop Pop to.”
“Oh, Gigi,” my dad says. “What a wonderful idea. A red, I think, since I’ve heard about links between red wine and lower risks for heart disease.”
“Great idea,” I say, nodding as I type that into my phone to do more research on it later. I glance up and spot my dad sort of studying me. “What?”
“I just have to say, Gracie, I’m so damn proud of you and the way you’re going about this.”
I give him a hug and head back to my office and get a start on planning for the charity event. I don’t know what Spencer’s schedule looks like, but I’d love to have him here for it. So I either have to rush it to get it in before training camp starts, or I have to wait a year. I can’t wait a year because that’ll be closer to the end of this whole thing. I need to start laying on thick the reasons why it should be me now.
That tells me I need to do this thing around the middle of July. It’ll have to be on a Sunday since Saturday weddings are booked for the entire summer, and we keep the Grand Hall available on Friday evenings to allow for decorating and rehearsals.
As I think of ways to increase revenue, though, the Grand Hall sticks out.
Right now, we really only use it once a week. What if we allowed Friday and Sunday weddings as well? What if we allowed other events during the week? We’d have to work out rehearsal schedules and things like that, but we could make it work.
We could charge enough to cover the staff and cleaning crew, and it would be more and more chances to showcase our products. More people would be visiting, which means more profits at the bar, the restaurant, the tasting room, and the gift shop.
I decide I’ll talk to Spencer about it later since he’s more familiar with the financials, but I don’t see any downside to it at all.
Later comes in the afternoon when he stops by my office to check in. “How’s it going?” he asks.
I nod toward the chair. “Take a seat. I have some questions for you.”
“Open or closed-door type questions?”
“Closed.”
He wiggles his eyebrows.
“Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“My mind seems to permanently reside in the gutter when you’re around,” he mutters as he gets up and shuts the door. When he sits back down, he asks, “What’s going on?”
“You’re more familiar with the financials than me, so I wanted to discuss the idea of opening the Grand Hall for additional events on other days aside from Saturday. We’ve always cited staffing as our reason not to, but with the popularity of the venue, we could easily raise prices and get a ton more visitors to the vineyard each week.” I give him a hopeful look as I wait for his reply.
“It’s brilliant, Grace. The Grand Hall brings in the biggest profit margin of all the events we host here, and I suggested to your dad that we focus on that as one of the areas for expansion. But he said one a week is just the way we’ve always done it.”
“I hate that phrase,” I say. While I’m a strategist who works hard to analyze the best path forward, my dad finds comfort and security in tradition. Don’t get me wrong; I love a good tradition. But when that tradition stops us from trying new things, I’m going to put up a fight.
I dial up my dad’s line from my office phone. “Hey, Gigi,” he answers.
“I had this idea I wanted to run by Spencer, and he loved it. But then he told me you won’t go for it because the way we do it is the way we’ve always done it, and I’m not okay with that.”
Spencer looks like I just threw him under the bus, and my dad is silent on the other side of the line.
