Page 5 of A Fall to Remember

JIM

Jim replayed the video for the twentieth time, still chuckling as he watched Miranda Brown’s chin take up half the screen. Rain fell in sheets outside, lashing his tenth-floor windows with a never-ending stream of water. How many days had it been now? He checked his desk calendar. Twenty-four. He’d penciled in twenty-four raindrops on his old-school paper calendar that his younger colleagues teased him incessantly about. Twenty-four straight days and counting of not even seeing a glimmer of the sun.

Seattle was notorious for its soggy winters and endless stretches of gray skies. The fact that it had been raining for a month straight already didn’t bode well. Since September and the start of October were this dreary, they might be in for a long, wet record-breaking winter.

Was that part of the reason he was so intrigued by the Half Moon Bay pitch he was putting together for the team?

Maybe.

But it was also Miranda.

He hit the pause button on the video.

There was something about Miranda Brown that was absolutely captivating—and so familiar. He stared at the woman’s face for a few minutes, trying to figure out why. He met a lot of people in his travels and in his role at Voyager Travel. At first, he assumed he’d seen her at one of the swanky influencer parties the company liked to host, but then it hit him like a ton of bricks. He’d literally banged his palm against his forehead when he finally pieced it together.

Of course! She was the woman from the airport last week. The woman who had bumped into him and spilled his latte on his favorite shirt. He still had the shirt at home, although his stain-removal efforts had proved futile.

It was uncanny that her video had landed on his desk. But he was taking it as a positive sign. She was perfect for his latest idea.

He clicked play again, scribbling down some additional notes for his pitch.

Her internal effervescence bubbled to the surface. Those were the kind of eyes that knew how to tell a story and really pull you in. They were listening eyes. Honest eyes. Kind eyes. Self-deprecating eyes. And the eyes of his newest content partner. He just hoped the rest of the team and his boss would give him a chance to showcase why someone like Miranda Brown was the spark Voyager needed.

Jim had seen every trend come and go in his tenure with the travel company. Some he missed. Many he didn’t.

Case in point, he was eager to showcase how someone like Miranda might finally signal the end of the meticulously curated content that had been wildly popular in the last few years. Polished perfection had never been his style. He’d gotten into his fair share of heated battles at team meetings, arguing against promoting and featuring staged highlight reels intentionally designed to make people feel inadequate. “Why are we leaning so heavily into comparison culture?” Jim had asked his boss a few months ago. “Isn’t travel supposed to be about expanding our horizons? Making the world feel smaller? More welcoming? I think our audience is desperate to see real people. To feel the shared experience and vulnerability of being lost in the maze of the Tokyo Station, a city within a city itself, or being stranded in Bali on the Balinese New Year when the entire island shuts down for twenty-four hours. I think people are craving connection.”

His impassioned speech hadn’t gone over well.

His boss had reminded him that algorithms drove content these days and that the only way to break through was with calculated, curated, timely, gorgeous reels that highlighted destinations and gave their audience a deep sense of FOMO. “Our ad revenue is generated by encouraging people to visit these destinations—to purchase packages. No one wants to see Bali immersed in silence. No lights, no work, no entertainment. The airport even shuts down. How do we sell that, Jim?” She hadn’t given him a chance to answer. “I’ll tell you, we don’t. We send one of our young, fun influencers to the beach to shoot a reel featuring the beach club’s events with fireworks and rooftop parties. We need bikinis and fruity cocktails. That’s what our advertisers want. That’s what pays your salary.”

Jim had dropped it temporarily.

But then he’d stumbled upon Miranda’s viral video. There she was, living proof that authenticity had value. The comment section was a treasure trove of heartwarming comments. People loved her. Strangers adored her. A new mom had already shared a video about naming her daughter Miranda. And dozens of other travel companies and brands were in a bidding war to sign with her.

He knew that Miranda would resonate with a brand-new audience, and he also knew he had his work cut out for him.

He had a singular mission—to convince the team that Miranda Brown was born to be an influencer. A new kind of influencer. She just might not know it yet.

5

SHELBY

Shelby could feel the pressure mounting in every muscle and the tiny veins in her neck. They were squeezed so tight it felt like they might burst at any moment.

One long, deep breath in.

Hold it.

Exhale slowly.

She talked herself through the centering technique her therapist had taught her.

It didn’t work.

Nothing did.

She sighed, taking in the dreary Seattle skyline. Downtown and the Puget Sound were covered in a never-ending bank of dark clouds. The pervasive, unrelenting rain matched her mood. Growing up in the Pacific Northwest had made her impervious to the gloom. Tug on a sturdy raincoat and a pair of boots and hit the trails—no problem. A cozy coffee shop on a stormy day—what a dream.