Page 80 of The Maine Event

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say, shaking my head.

“Thank you for your concern. But don’t worry, I’ve put a stop to it.”

I nod, processing this information. “I see. Well, I’m glad you were able to handle it. But what does this have to do with me, if I may ask?”

“I find myself in need of someone to take the lead on our rebranding. Do you think that someone could be you?”

My mouth falls open in shock. Harcourt Foods is a S&P 500 company. To be handed the reins on a project of this magnitude is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Questions swirl in my mind—the timeline, the budget, the scope…

He watches me for a moment longer, then leans forward, elbows on the desk.

“Tell me something, Ms. Holmes. If you were sitting in my chair, what’s the first thing you’d do to get this company back on track?”

It’s a test. A sharp one. He wants to see if I flinch.

“I’d stop thinking like a commodity,” I reply without hesitation. “You’ve spent fifty years perfecting supply chains and margins. But the future’s emotional. People don’t just buy food—they buy identity. Aspiration. Belonging.”

“And you think a rebrand can give them that?”

“I think a brand that talks like a person and moves like a culture can. And that means, before you do anything, you need to reflect the culture with the products you offer.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that answer. “And what exactly does that look like? A TikTok dance with a mushroom cutlet?”

I smile. “Not unless you’re doing the dancing. But imagine a campaign that leans into your legacy instead of hiding it. A multi-generational story. ‘From family farms to future food.’ We remind people that you’ve always fed American families. Now you’re feeding their values too.”

He leans back again. “And if the board hates it?”

“They’ll come around—once they see the market share shift and the headlines soften.”

“You’re sure of yourself.”

“I’m sure of the work,” I say. “And I’m sure of what consumers want, even if they don’t know how to articulate it yet.”

A slow grin spreads across his face. “You don’t bluff, do you?”

“Not unless I have a full house.”

He laughs, a low, approving sound. “You know, I used to think legacy meant building something too big to fail.”

I pause, not sure if he’s talking to me or himself.

“But these days, I wonder if it means knowing when to change course—before the tide takes you with it. My generation built empires on convenience and price. But that’s not what my grandkids care about. They ask where the chicken lived, what it ate, whether it was happy.”

He lets out a dry laugh, shakes his head.

“I used to roll my eyes. Now I listen.”

I nod, quietly moved. It’s not a confession, exactly. But it’s more than I expected.

He straightens, the moment gone, the CEO mask sliding back into place.

“Harcourt Foods is at a crossroads. We need fresh thinking, bold ideas. The product team showed me a copy of the presentation you delivered, and I think you captured exactly what we need to do if we want to make sure this business not just survives, but thrives, over the coming years.”

“I still stand by that. And the data supports?—”

“Let’s get down to brass tacks. The world is changing, Ms. Holmes. Consumer tastes are changing. ‘Healthy’ and ‘sustainable’ are words people like me would prefer to ignore, but the truth is we’re having to compete on price to maintain revenues. I’ve been around long enough to know that will only end one way. Whether we like it or not, plant-based alternatives are the future.”

I lean forward, intrigued. “I couldn’t agree more, Mr. Harcourt. Embracing plant-based alternatives is a smart move for Harcourt Foods.”

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