by Cindi Madsen
“Get the website updated as soon as possible,” Franco said. “I toyed with it first thing this morning and will have another version for you all to look at soon. I’ve heard everyone loud and clear, and after taking some time to process, I realized you were right. I’m working to make it chic and streamlined, with Danae’s slogan in mind.” He raised his voice, the same way she’d done when she originally pitched it in the meeting. “Barton Boats. Not just a boat, but a lifestyle.”
She returned his smile, her mood getting another upsurge. “Thank you, Franco. I can’t wait to see what that genius brain of yours comes up with.”
“I was thinking we should analyze where we’re spending our ad money,” Paige said. “Places that used to work aren’t performing as well for us, and I’ve found three more boating magazines to try. I’ve already emailed their ad departments and inquired about the cost.”
Vanessa made a skeptical hmm noise that caused Danae’s blood pressure to soar. “I’m all for trying out new places, but I’m not sure we’re going to gain new buyers from magazines, no matter how many ads we run. For one, who even reads magazines anymore?” She ticked off other ideas on her fingers. “How about website banners? Travel sites, social media platforms?
“Or…” Vanessa hesitated in that way she did to build momentum, and Danae pricked up her ears, determined to be more open than she’d been in the past. “A lot of influencers run in the same circles, and thanks to my connections in the beauty blogger world, I can reach out to people with travel blogs. We can invite them to come take a cruise and document how fabulous it is. They’ll be sure to mention Barton Boats.”
Paige cocked her head. “Um, don’t you remember what Mark said about our target market demographic? Speaking of older, who even reads blogs anymore?”
“Okay,” Danae said. “Let’s—”
“It’s a billion-dollar industry,” Vanessa said. “Most of the blogging is done via pictures that show off beautiful locales and captions that are only two to three paragraphs these days. They still reach thousands of people.”
“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but you still won’t find our demographic among their subscribers. The idea is just a little too out there for us.”
Well, at least Paige had added the “appreciate” remark. Surely that was at least a modicum of progress?
Vanessa crossed her forearms on the edge of the table. “Well, I’m afraid boring and conventional isn’t going to move the meter. Not anymore.”
Oh, great. Now Paige was going to think Vanessa was implying her ideas were boring, and Danae felt the need to take the train’s controls before it jumped the tracks and wrecked their progress. “Thank you both for your input and giving me ideas to think about. While we mull them over, I’m going to set up my mini projector and go over my five-year plan. I think it’ll provide us with a strong foundation, and then we can discuss ways to tweak it.” She stuck her flash drive into the small machine and fired it up.
The presentation flashed on a blank space on the wall, complete with colorful headings, bullet points, charts, and statistics. She’d been working on it before she got the promotion, thinking she’d either present it as the CMO, or just as someone who cared a lot about the company she worked for.
“Wow,” Mark said, when the presentation was over. She steeled herself for his criticism. While she appreciated their truce, it didn’t mean they’d automatically agree. “You’re usually detailed, D, but you’ve outdone yourself.”
The stress that had been filling her for the past hour or so began to seep out of her, like a balloon that had been poked with a pin. The entire team was silent, contemplative expressions on their faces, and for about thirty seconds, it seemed like someone had hit the pause button.
Then Mark leaned back in his chair, two grooves forming between his eyebrows, kick-starting her nerves all over again. “But what if we get through the first year of this campaign and learn that we have to switch tactics?”
“Most of the columns and amounts can be tweaked. For instance, the ad budget is based on a percentage of our profit, and if you change it…” Danae went to type on her keyboard out of habit, her curled fingers hovering over the table for a beat before she straightened. “Well, I can show you later, once I have my laptop. But it’s a formula, so it would automatically recalculate it.”
Danae ran her palms down the thighs of the lightweight linen pants she’d picked up at Banana Republic. They felt a bit too casual for this presentation, but they were on a sunny island and she hadn’t wanted to overheat or appear too rigid, especially with the rest of the team—save Vanessa of course—in shorts. “Anyone else? This is a safe place, where feedback is welcome.”
“A formula is a good idea,” Mark said. “However, I’m still wondering if there’s enough flexibility. Say one department outperforms the others. Shouldn’t they get a boost instead of having to redistribute their budget to other areas?”
“Okay. Thank you, Mark.” Danae scribbled herself a few notes. She could handle this. Criticism that would benefit the company’s strategy, just like Franco with the website.
Vanessa shifted in her seat. “I do like that you’re projecting growth among the female demographic. More than that, I think with a few of the right placements, we can get there.”
“Where’s the wiggle room?” The question came from Josh, and she glanced at him, a strange buzzing noise invading her mind as she blinked at him. “Think about sailing. It’s about reacting to changes and improvising and enjoying the journey. Shouldn’t you have more of that kind of flexibility in your marketing plan?”
Uh-oh.
Josh immediately knew he shouldn’t have jumped in, and the firm line of Danae’s jaw confirmed it. He’d gotten caught up in feeling like part of the group—a group that he’d grown to really like. Then he’d been thinking about how much he’d relished his time sailing Barton’s Fortune 703 model, a sailboat that was speedy and comfortable, and took very little effort to manage. Any company that paid that much attention to craftsmanship and functionality deserved to do well.
More than that, he wanted Danae and her team to succeed.
“A five-year plan doesn’t mean there’s no wiggle room,” Danae said. “It’s a long-term goal. It’s what we’re working toward at Barton Boating Company. My goals don’t just change with the wind, and when it comes to marketing a business, enjoyment isn’t my top priority. That’s for after we succeed on launching this campaign.”
Awkwardness crept through the air, everyone glancing in other directions. Josh’s tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, waiting for him to figure out whether he should to try to explain himself further or attempt to soothe Danae’s ruffled feathers.
Mark cleared his throat and pointed his fork at the projection on the wall. “I’m glad that newspaper ads are still in the budget. I was worried you’d rule them out, Danae, and our demographic still likes to drink their coffee while they read their paper, same way they’ve been doing for decades. But of course you’d take that into consideration, so I never should’ve doubted you.” He sat forward in his chair, drawing Danae’s gaze. “I’ve got a great partnership with several of the staff members of the local papers, and they give us a great rate, too, so we can do a lot more with a lot less.”
“Honestly, I considered trimming it,” Danae said, “but I thought about what you said during the meeting at the vineyard, and decided it was worth holding onto for a while more.” She smiled at Mark, and he smiled right back.
Oh, sure. Mark had implied that she had no idea what men wanted, and suddenly he was the good guy?
It seemed like his suspicions about Mark trying to win Danae back were spot on, and her ex had just pulled ahead in their unspoken competition. Not that Danae was a prize to be won, but if she were comparing him to Mark now, Josh doubted he’d come out ahead.
For the rest of meeting, Josh sat silent, tuning
out the business talk. He’d never wanted to be part of it again, so why had he gone and put his foot in it?
With the restaurant about to open up for normal hours, Danae took down her presentation, and used the company credit card to pay the bill—in spite of his insistence he pay for his own meal.
Obviously she didn’t need his tour guide skills, since she hardly let him give any facts or took any of his advice. She could probably sail the boat herself if it came down to it, too, leaving him to wonder what he was even doing tagging along on every outing, getting involved. Throwing out ideas no one wanted to hear.
Maybe he should do his own thing from now on.
A cloud of tension hung over them as they made the ten-minute walk to the ship, starkly contrasting with the happy, carefree mood they’d felt on the way there. Vanessa and Paige spoke in clipped tones and one-word answers, and Danae charged down the street as if she were being timed and had a record to break.
Mark and Franco hung back, as if they were wary about getting caught in the crossfire, and a general grumpiness lingered. Why hadn’t Josh’s common sense kicked in sooner? Preferably before he’d given his input on Danae’s plan.
About an hour later, he was on the boat, bent over and fiddling with one of the winches, when he heard someone approach. Call it pessimism or intuition, but foreboding tiptoed along his spine.
“We need to talk,” Danae said.
Josh winced at the words every male dreaded. He’d heard the phrase way too many times before, the prequel to many a fight. It started off with Olivia telling him what he’d done wrong, and escalated to a screaming match.
He reluctantly straightened and turned to Danae, who stood about a yard away, arms crossed.
Yep. It was about to go down.
“You undermined me in front of my team,” she said.
“I was only trying to help. I like you and your team and want you all to succeed. And you did say you were open to advice.”
“To feedback. From my team.”
That stung, a sharp prick to his heart. It was more than his ego. Even though they hadn’t known each other long, surely she didn’t think he’d been trying to sabotage her presentation.
Danae ran her fingers through her hair, switching the bulk of it from one side to the other. “Do you understand how hard it is to be firm enough that I don’t get plowed over, but encouraging enough that all the departments will contribute ideas and get onboard? It’s a tricky balance—one I’m struggling to hit, by the way. If our sailboat captain starts questioning me, it’ll only be a matter of time before my entire team does the same. I can’t lead if they don’t have faith in me.”
“Look, I get it, but I think you’re reading way too much into it,” Josh said, unable to resist the urge to defend himself. “You’re overanalyzing it, same way you do with your tight schedules, goals, and your never-ending to-do list.”
“Overanalyzing? Seriously?” Danae reached down and grabbed the end of the rope that kept snagging, as if she were on autopilot. “I can’t believe you’d say that when you know what’s at stake for me.” Her chin quivered and hurt flickered through her eyes. “I confided in you about how important it was that I prove myself to my boss in order to hold on to my new position. Something not even my team knows, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
Disappointment and frustration joined together and streaked through his veins, weighing down his limbs and his lungs. The charismatic, upbeat woman he’d spent yesterday with was gone. He’d thought he’d broken through to her, but she had reset overnight. She would undoubtedly do it again tomorrow, emerging from her cabin that much more determined to eliminate all risk, as if that were possible.
He’d tried it before. Lived that life. It only ended in stress and high blood pressure. He straightened and opened his mouth to tell her as much, but she wasn’t done with her rant.
“The more in control I am, the more confident I come across, the more my team will follow my lead. That’s why I like schedules and detailed objectives, and there’s nothing wrong with accomplishing goals. In fact, not writing them down and working toward them would make them wishes. I have to work to make things happen—it’s how I’ve gotten to where I am today.” She crossed her arms, adopting the same pose she’d originally come to him with, and shook her head. “Next time I’m leading my team, do me a favor and butt. Out.”
“No problem. I’ll be keeping my thoughts to myself from now on, letting you attempt to schedule every second of everything until you drive yourself insane.”
“Good.” Danae whipped around, one stride into a dramatic exit.
“Great,” he said, because he never did know when to keep his mouth shut.
She spun back around, jaw clenched. Unshed tears glistened in her eyes, and then he felt two feet tall.
“Danae—”
“Save it. I’ll be going into town for dinner. Everyone’s doing their own thing, so enjoy your unscheduled free time. I’ll see you in the morning at nine sharp, when our rental bikes get delivered. As much as I hate to admit it, I don’t know the trail. Although I’m sure I could figure it out if needed.”
With that, she continued her retreat, leaving him standing there, completely flustered.
Bright side? It confirmed he’d made the right decision to pull back with Danae. His ex-wife had been all about a five-year plan, too, one that included a big house and a baby. And look how that had turned out. Grand plans like that only led to disappointment, and a big no thank you on his end.
Unfortunately, it didn’t feel very bright, or make the churning in his gut go away.
One thing was for sure: his life had been a lot simpler before Danae Danvers came into it.
Chapter Twelve
At least the bike rental company Danae had booked knew how to be on time. This morning she had paced the cabin, worried that if she went above deck, she’d have to fill the awkward silence with their sailboat captain while pretending it wasn’t awkward.
Danae sent a group text announcing that their Pedelecs—or electric-assist bikes—had arrived, and that they’d be taking off ASAP. Paige was first off the boat, her red hair up in a high ponytail similar to Danae’s. They were both wearing yoga pants, breathable tank tops, and sneakers.
“Were you able to chat with your fiancé last night?” Danae asked Paige when she came over to claim a bike. Of all the people on the team, she’d spent the least time interacting with Paige. Since Danae had connected with Vanessa, she also didn’t want Paige thinking she had picked sides.
“I did.” A dreamy expression overtook Paige’s features. “Neither one of us wanted to say goodbye, so we FaceTimed until we both fell asleep. I woke up to a text about how much he loves me.”
The mushiness in Paige’s voice touched Danae, and a hint of longing rose up. “Aww, that is really sweet.” She’d always adored couples talking about how they fell in love, or how madly in love they were with each other. It gave her hope that one day, she would find that as well.
Once the campaign is officially launched, maybe I’ll attempt to get serious about dating again. Josh’s face flashed through her mind, and she quickly blocked it and peered at the water.
“Are you enjoying the trip? I know the beginning was slightly rocky for you, but I’m glad you’re here. I’m hoping you’re feeling better about things, too.”
“For sure. During the storm, I was so seasick I thought I’d have to go home. But the bracelets helped—as have the calmer waters—and last night, I actually found the sway of the boat soothing.”
“I’m so happy to hear that.”
“Yeah, and in news that surprised me and my fiancé, I kind of love fishing. Enough that he and I are going to plan a deep-sea fishing excursion of our own. Although I already told him he’s doing all the icky stuff involved.” Paige laughed, and Danae joined in.
“That’s amazing.
I hear you on the icky stuff—it’s a no from me.”
That made them both giggle. The rest of the group began streaming off the ship, and they turned in tandem to greet them.
Danae held her breath as Josh disembarked, a tornado of conflicting emotions wreaking havoc on her state of mind. Yesterday she’d been so furious, and she’d unleashed on him.
Then immediately regretted it, while assuring herself she’d been justified. Her promotion was at stake. Commanding authority was important in a managerial position. Even when she’d been calling creditors back in the day, if she didn’t switch from polite to stern, no one would help her.
Admittedly, she probably hadn’t needed to go full force with Josh, and she may had overreacted the tiniest bit, and ugh. Since they had an upcoming appointment and she refused to be late, she shoved her personal issues aside and assigned bikes to everyone. Then she handed out maps with the highlighted route they’d be taking to Island Alpaca Company.
The idea of the poofy animals and their squishy faces elicited the enthusiasm she’d been missing since crawling into bed last night. Instead of falling asleep, she had tossed and turned and rehashed every moment of the trip so she could figure out how to do better. She was the team leader, and that meant she didn’t have time to have a bad day or be annoyed at a handsome sailor who made her feel too many things at once.
Danae straddled her bike. “Does everyone have water bottles? It’s a five-mile course, but it’s fairly level. According to the map, it should take about thirty minutes. I’ve padded our ride with two five-minute breaks, so if you need to rest for a few minutes, let me know.”
Once she’d confirmed everyone was ready to go, they were off, riding past the busier part of the town they’d walked yesterday.
As soon as the vehicle and foot traffic cleared, they found the bike trail that ran along the main road and headed to the heart of the island. The trail also allowed them to spread out and cluster in groups instead of having to remain in single file.
