My father had built the Anderson fortune on calculated risks and knowing when to cut losses. He would understand exactly what I was doing, even if Judd couldn’t see past his own ego.
“My father taught me to know when to walk away,” I said quietly. “And I’m walking away.”
I took a breath and softened my tone. These people weren’t the enemy. Most of them were just trying to make smart investments. I had personally recruited several of them. We had other business ventures together. I hoped those didn’t sour.
“Gentlemen and ladies, I want to apologize,” I said, looking directly at the camera. “I misled you. Not intentionally, but the result is the same. I told you Surfside was the ideal location. I presented data and projections that made it look like a slam dunk. But I failed to account for the most important variable—the people who actually live there.”
A few faces got bigger on the screen, indicating they were leaning forward. They were listening.
“Surfside doesn’t want this port,” I continued. “They’ve made that abundantly clear. And what we’ve seen so far is just the beginning. If we move forward with breaking ground, the retaliation will escalate. The environmental groups will get involved. The media will pick up the story. Before we know it, we’ll be the villains in a national conversation about corporate greed destroying small coastal communities.”
One of the investors—a woman I recognized from a pension fund out of Chicago—leaned forward. “You think it could go national?”
“I know it will,” I said. “And when it does, nobody’s going to want to book a cruise with a company that’s perceived as destroying someone’s home. The optics alone will tank ticket sales. You’ll spend millions trying to repair the brand damage, and that’s assuming you can even finish construction without constant delays and legal challenges.”
I paused, making sure I had their attention. Then I leaned forward, doing my best to look each of them in the eyes.
“I’ll be upfront with you,” I said. “If you move forward with this project, I will publicly oppose it. I won’t just walk away quietly. I’ll use every resource I have to make sure the people of Surfside have a voice loud enough to be heard. Not because I’m trying to hurt anyone on this call, but because it’s the right thing to do.”
The silence that followed was deafening. I watched the faces on the screen. Some looked angry. Others looked thoughtful. A few looked relieved, like I’d just given them permission to voice concerns they’d been sitting on for weeks.
The Chicago woman spoke first. “How significant are we talking in terms of opposition? What kind of resources?”
“The Anderson family has considerable reach,” I said carefully. “Media connections, legal teams, environmental advocacy groups we’ve worked with in the past. I won’t use any of that to be vindictive. But I will use it to amplify what the people of Surfside are already saying. This isn’t their fight to lose alone.”
Another investor cleared his throat. “I’ll be honest. I’ve been having second thoughts since the protest footage went viral. My wife saw it and asked me point blank if I was comfortable being associated with that kind of community backlash. I didn’t have a good answer for her.”
“Same here,” another one chimed in. “We have zero local support for the port. Even the local businesses, who stand to profit the most, don’t want it.”
I saw the tide beginning to turn. They were starting to see what I’d been too blind to see months ago.
Judd must have seen it too because his face went from red to purple.
“This is bullshit,” he snarled. “You’re all letting one bleeding heart derail an entire project because he got nostalgic about his summer vacation spot. This is business. Grow the hell up.”
“Thisisa business decision,” I said evenly. “It’s bad business to force a project through when every indicator says it’s going to cost more than it’s worth. You want to talk numbers, Judd? Let’s talk about the cost of round-the-clock security for the next two years. Let’s talk about legal fees fighting injunctions and environmental impact challenges. Let’s talk about the PR campaign you’ll need to salvage your brand when this blows up in your face.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he spat.
“I know exactly what I’m talking about,” I said. “This is a losing proposition. No need to throw good money after bad.”
“This meeting is over,” Judd announced abruptly. “We’ll reconvene when everyone’s had a chance to calm down and think rationally.”
Screens went black as people started dropping off the call. Within seconds, it was just me and Judd staring at each other through our respective cameras.
“You just made a very big mistake,” Judd said quietly. He wiped the sweat from his face with a towel. I was so glad I didn’t have to hear him grunting and breathing hard anymore. The rage was still there but it had changed. He was calculated. That was somehow worse than the screaming.
“Maybe,” I said. “But it’s my mistake to make.”
“You think walking away protects you?” He leaned closer to the camera. “You think paying the penalty and making your little speech absolves you of responsibility? You brought me here, Anderson. You sold me on this location. You put my name on this project. And now you’re trying to publicly humiliate me to save face with your beach buddies.”
“That’s not what this is about.”
“Like hell it isn’t,” he snarled. “You want to step in the dog shit? Fine. But don’t be surprised when you track it everywhere you go. I will make sure everyone in our industry knows exactly what kind of partner you are. I will make sure your name is poison in every boardroom from here to New York. You don’t know who you’re fucking with. You will deal with the wrath of Judd Mathers.”
I shrugged. “If you want to go to war, that’s your choice. I know what’s right. And that’s what I have to do.”
Then he was gone and I was staring at my own face. I blew out a breath and hoped like hell I hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of my life.