by Cindi Madsen
“You wanna do the honors?” Franco asked.
“Is that even a question?” Mark squatted next to the dish towel they’d placed over their craft and, with a flourish, revealed their makeshift sailboat. “Ta-da!”
“Whoa,” Paige said. “Their boat is giant compared to ours.”
Vanessa withdrew the ladies’ vessel from behind her back, forgoing the big reveal route. Paige was right—their ship seemed extra tiny as they placed it next to the one the guys had made.
Franco and Mark had packed a discarded water bottle with batteries and a couple of other random odds and ends—presumably to add weight—along the bottom. Then they’d used wooden skewers from their marshmallow roast and a plastic bag to fashion a mast and sails. Josh had seen this challenge done several times, and their boat looked to be one of the best-engineered, as far as sailing went.
No surprise, the one Danae and her team had constructed was the flashiest, prettiest one he’d seen, although he was relatively sure it’d be top heavy.
“It’s not the size of the ship in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the ship,” Danae said, rallying her team.
Mark squatted next to the water bottle ship and adjusted the plastic-bag sails. “Hate to break it to you, but our ship is packed full of fight.”
Mark and Paige placed their ships in the water. As soon as they straightened and stepped closer to their groups, the two teams yelled instructions to their boats, like football coaches to their teams on the field.
“Go, go, go,” Mark shouted, while Danae encouraged their ship to “Be strong.”
As Josh had privately predicted, the ladies’ boat capsized.
Danae sighed, and then put one arm over Vanessa’s shoulder and the other around Paige. “Well, crookedly or not, at least it floats.”
“Are you saying I should sail our ship on its side like that?” Josh joked, and Danae raised an eyebrow that promised she’d get him back for that remark.
He could hardly wait.
The guys’ boat floated serenely along, the sail catching the breeze and propelling it to the other end of the cooler. Mark crouched and blew a breath that filled the sail and sent it rushing to the other side.
Then he straightened and held his hand up to Franco for a high-five. “That was all you, man. Twisting that bag to form rope was genius.”
“You’re the one who pointed out that it needed extra weight to keep it from capsizing,” Franco said.
“A tip that we could’ve used, clearly.” Danae glanced at her team. “Our boat’s beautiful, though, and I enjoyed building it.”
“Me too,” Vanessa said, and Paige echoed the sentiment.
Danae stepped between Mark and Franco, gripped their wrists, and lifted their arms in the air, as if they’d won a boxing match. “Congratulations to Mark and Franco, the winners of the ‘Use what you have’ challenge.”
The two men bowed before breaking into over-the-top celebratory gestures. Everyone cheered and laughed, the atmosphere happy and light, and best of all, vastly different than the first day.
“Do you mind if I tinker with your boat, ladies?” Mark asked, already reaching for the watercraft. “See if we can’t get it to float?”
The three women agreed they were fine with it, as long as they also got to be part of it. Franco gathered the glue and crafting supplies, and the entire group plunked themselves down on the deck and worked until both boats could float.
Danae glanced up and cocked her head. “Josh, don’t just stand there. Come build a boat so you’ll have one to race, too.”
Josh had seen his fair share of team-bonding activities during corporate retreats. He appreciated CEOs who rewarded their employees and pushed them to grow, but a lot of it came down to the people themselves and how willing they were to work.
On day one, he’d had his doubts about this group. Over the past couple of days, though, they’d cemented themselves as one of his favorites. Sure, it helped that he was becoming more and more taken with their CMO, but overall, they were a solid group of people.
Even Mark, as much as it bothered him to admit it.
If Josh had worked with a team like theirs, he might not have hated his cubicle days quite so much—not that he’d return to that life for all the money in the world.
Still, as he sat in the center of hubbub, creating boats out of what most people would consider garbage, he thought it’d been a while since he’d had this much fun on any of his chartered journeys.
Chapter Sixteen
Paige fiddled with the lens of the projector until the image on the wall opposite the kitchen table sharpened. Blurred letters and images took shape, including the bolded title: Five-Year Marketing Plan for Barton Boating Company. Not just a boat, but a lifestyle.
“As you can see, I’ve kept a lot of Danae’s original structure and goals in place.” Yesterday afternoon, Paige had asked Danae if she would be comfortable emailing her the five-year plan so she could fiddle with it. “The main thing I changed up was padding each item for more flexibility. Leaving us free to jump on an opportunity, regardless of whether it’s one we’ve planned on for a year, a couple of months, or last minute.”
The screen briefly went dark as Paige crossed in front of the projector. She walked over to the document on the wall, pointing as she continued explaining the edits she’d made. “I also created a category for each department, so that once every quarter, everyone can try something new. Whether it’s an event, a new ad placement, or a social media push. That way, each department gets a chance to experiment, grow, and improve.”
Pride bubbled up inside of Danae, along with a fervency she hadn’t experienced when she’d been creating the original version. Paige’s changes came from a viewpoint Danae never would’ve tapped into. “Wow. It’s super impressive.”
“Well, you provided the very detailed framework, and that made it much easier to work with. I’ve always been better at spinning and tweaking stories than creating them. Thus, the career in PR.” A modest yet gleeful giggle escaped Paige, a new side of her emerging.
Mark added that he liked the flexibility, along with the idea of experimenting here and there. “Gives everyone some freedom within the structure.”
Paige turned to Vanessa. Danae automatically flinched, hoping the progress they’d made building a miniature sailboat wasn’t about to be undone. “As we were traveling around Martha’s Vineyard, I spent a lot of time on Trendster and Quest Obsessed. The way the apps are set up is brilliant. I found myself rushing to check in at each place and upload videos so I could earn stickers.”
Dang it, I totally forgot. Although I still prefer physical stickers.
Paige asked Franco if he would press the button to advance to the next slide, which showed a side-by-side comparison of the two apps and their lists of suggested activities. “Both apps have running bucket lists for places you just have to go and things you have to see. And I realized we could work that into our own marketing tactics.”
At her signal, Franco moved to the next slide. A bucket list appeared on the wall, one that included family vacations, riding the oldest carousel in America, and deep-sea fishing. The very last bullet point said “own a Barton Boat.”
“Then, we flip it.” Another click, and the list onscreen changed so that “Own a Barton Boat” was the first bullet point. “Purchasing one of our boats is what will allow you to travel to these destinations and do these things.”
“I love that,” Vanessa said, and judging from the dropped jaws and raised eyebrows, Danae wasn’t the only one surprised by her approval of something Paige had presented. “It’ll also give more purpose to the images and videos I’ve been capturing to post online. A target, so to speak. Along with a call to action.”
Franco chimed in to say he could set up a VIP membership on the website. “We can have running lists to send to those members, a
nd a place where they can upload their own bucket items.”
“We could also provide incentives for people who post about their adventures on our Barton boats,” Vanessa said. “We’ll cheer them on as they complete their bucket lists, and they’ll be boosting our social media and publicity reach in a way that comes across as natural and effortless. The boats will essentially sell themselves to their families and friends.”
Danae asked Franco to go back to the first slide again. Since she’d practically memorized the plan she’d proposed, it was easy enough to see the modifications. Whether or not Danae liked it, life and the pace people lived it was forever changing. Same as the market, and if she had her way, eventually their target demographic.
Not that she wasn’t grateful for Barton’s clientele, but if they widened their reach, they could unearth new consumers. She’d always viewed change and risk as enemies. If she could find a way to embrace them in a lower-risk way, it would help the business and her nerves. Win, win.
“Having everyone’s perspective has made this version so much stronger,” Danae said. Relief also coursed through her, along with a silent plea that everyone might actually agree on this strategy. “Everyone in favor of going forward with this edition, say aye.”
One by one, everyone added their ayes.
“Yay, I’m so excited!” In addition to bouncing in her seat, this time Danae added a quick golf clap. “Now that we have an approved five-year plan, we can really dig in and get the ball rolling on our new campaign.”
Danae flipped to the page of stickers in her planners, searching for the perfect one. The multicolored HOORAY! caught her eye, so she peeled it off and placed it next to the meeting they’d just wrapped up.
Twenty minutes later, they had reached Nantucket Island and were seated on a gorgeous sandy beach, soaking up the sunshine and fresh air.
Danae handed out the sub sandwiches and salads she’d purchased at the market near the marina. She tossed a pile of condiment packets in the middle, along with bags of chips.
Ugh, pickles. The sandwiches had been wrapped in cellophane, so she’d snagged several and hoped for the best.
One by one, she picked off the offensive green circles. Biting into a sandwich or burger with pickles was like discovering that the brown bits in your cookie were raisins instead of chocolate chips.
“Wait. Are you…?” Josh frowned at the pile, and she thought maybe they offended him as much as they offended her. “You’re removing the pickles?”
“Yeah, they’re disgusting. I’m trying not to think about how they touched my food, or I’ll go to take a bite, and that’ll be all I taste.”
“They’re my favorite.”
Danae made a sour face. “Ew.”
“More for me, then.” Josh opened up his sandwich and piled her pickles on top of the ones already covering the ham and cheese, while she added mayo to her sub and reassembled it. Then he took a giant bite and added an over-the-top mmm.
“Hey, maybe if you cook them a special way like you did the fish, Danae will eat them,” Vanessa said with a laugh.
“Hard pass. It’s not just the fermented cucumbers I object to. It’s—”
“Vinegar,” Mark supplied. “She can’t stand the smell or the taste.”
“Growing up, my mom used it as a cleaner. I’d come home and the entire house would reek.”
Mark grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth. “Remember when you refused to add it to your Easter egg dye, even though the instructions required it?” He chuckled. “Her eggs were so sad-looking because none of the colors took. They just looked dirty.”
Danae laughed as well. “We went to Mark’s parents’ and none of the kids wanted to find, much less touch my eggs.” She’d forgotten about that. Her distaste for vinegar, not so much.
After lunch, as they were cleaning up so they could head to their next destination, Vanessa stepped up to Danae and held open a trash bag. “So?” she whispered as Danae tossed the garbage inside the bag. “What’s the deal with you and Josh?”
Unable to help herself, Danae glanced over her shoulder. Josh was shaking sand off the blanket they’d sat on, and a flutter went through her stomach as she took him in. As casually as she could, she shrugged one shoulder. “It’s…I…There’s not a deal. He’s nice. A good sailor, too.”
“There’s nice, and then there’s sharing a blanket and picking at each other’s food. Seemed like a couple kind of move.”
Oh no. Her stomach plummeted down to her toes. She was working so hard to stifle her attraction for Josh and remain professional, but if Vanessa had noticed…Was everyone else aware of it and speculating about them as well?
Hello, you both disappeared at the same time last night. Hardly a shock that people might assume there’s something going on…“We like different things, so it worked out during lunch. That’s all.”
Vanessa’s mm-hmm matched the skepticism in her features. She even propped a fist on her hip. “Okay, well then, how about the vibe between you and Mark?”
In spite of everyone else’s being well out of earshot, Danae kept her voice low. “There’s no vibe. He and I have a history, that’s all. I’m sure you heard that we used to date.”
“Yes, and I noticed the weird tension between you two in the office when I first arrived. But over the last few days, I’ve started to wonder if there’s more to it than history. Something closer to interest.”
Funny how many shared memories had come up on this trip. How well Mark knew her in a lot of ways. Josh might not know her as well, but he challenged her more than any other guy ever had. Whether that was a good or bad thing changed by the day, although after last night, they’d formed a sort of truce that—she crossed her fingers—might prevent future clashes.
Not that there was any reason to compare the two men, or that it was a competition. More like a casual observation that she would tuck in her pocket and ponder later. Possibly add to the list of what she would or would not want once she was in a better position to date.
Which is not right now, remember?
In order to keep herself from obsessing about Josh or Mark or anything else, she raised her voice and asked, “Who’s ready to go see the seals?”
A cluster of seals lounged in the sun-dried sand, snoozing away. Some of them had their bellies up, while others cuddled together. A few still had their back ends in the tide, as if their upper halves had touched the warm sand and they couldn’t make it any farther.
During his corporate days as a desk monkey, Josh would have experienced jealousy over the sea creatures’ carefree lifestyle. Nowadays, he wanted to flash them a thumbs-up and tell them to keep on living the good life.
As they passed near one of the pods, a few of the seals began barking away, warning them that they were nearby, but not going to move. “You’re a little sharp, buddy,” Franco said to the closest seal, and Vanessa laughed. Evidently, the round, blubbery seal was a fan of the attention, because it barked even louder, to the ear-ringing point.
Vanessa flinched and covered the ear closest to the warbling, blubbery sea mammal. “I guess that’s why they chose to have a mermaid sing instead of having Prince Eric fall in love with a seal. Although they did come in handy during that almost-wedding on the boat.”
“Hey, if a crab can sing, who’s to say a seal can’t learn?” Franco joked.
The two of them laughed more, and began creating an entire musical. One of the seals was desperately in love with a killer whale who felt the same, but it was a whole Romeo and Juliet situation where their parents and society would never allow it.
Unable to help himself, Josh looked at Danae to see her reaction. As expected, she was beaming at her coworkers, and it sent pure liquid sunshine through him. The more he learned about Danae, the more he wanted to unearth. If only he could ignore the alarm ringing in the back of his head, warning him that going de
eper would only result in drama and future pain.
“Do you see that?” Danae gestured to the duo in front of them. “With Vanessa and Franco weaving their tragic fairytale, every single person on my team has now connected.”
Josh held up his fist. “Rock on.”
Danae blinked at it for several seconds, as if she’d never seen a fist before. “Oh, um, didn’t you hear? Fist bumps are out.”
“Silly me, not keeping up with celebratory gestures.” Slowly he lowered his arm. “So, how do I congratulate you, then?”
Danae frowned, and now he was wondering if her happiness was closer to deliriousness. Despite being the one who’d left him hanging, her expression implied she was upset about it. “Actually, I want a fist bump. I don’t care what the cool kids are doing. I’d rather be an overly organized nerd any day. I’m pretty sure the window for us to be considered ‘kids’ passed a decade or so ago anyway.”
Josh shook his head and clucked his tongue. “This just keeps getting worse and worse. First you imply I’m not cool, next you’re implying I’m old. Again.” He firmly crossed his arms. “Last time I offer you congratulations.”
“No, wait, I’m sorry.” Danae jumped in front of him, blocking his way, and brought out the pouty lower lip. “I need a redo.” She gave his arm a tug, loosening it from its crossed position.
After making her stew for a couple of seconds, he halfheartedly held out his fist.
“Like you mean it,” she said with a tilt of her head.
He plastered a goofy grin on his face and repeated, “Rock on.”
“Boom,” she said, bumping her fist to his. Then she exploded it, eyeing him until he did the same.
Seemingly satisfied, she pivoted around, more skipping than walking. “I was so worried, but it’s all coming together. It looks like I’m going to keep my promotion, which leaves me a teensy-weensy amount of wiggle room to breathe and relax and…” She exhaled like they had in yoga, one long whoosh of air.
“And improvise?”
“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” she said, and while he didn’t want to examine why too closely, he liked that she’d used “ourselves.” Suddenly she came to a stop, her high-pitched squeal similar to the noise she’d made at the alpaca farm. Which keyed him into the fact that she’d come across something she considered cute.
