Page 51 of A Fall to Remember

She stopped in the hotel lobby to grab a coffee and a pastry and then headed toward the beach. It was a short walk along the tree-lined streets. No one was out this early, aside from a few surfers, lugging colorful boards on their shoulders, and a running group out for an early morning jog.

The sun on her face felt like the spark she needed to tackle the day. She stopped when she got to the shoreline, set her coffee on a rock, and kicked off her tennis shoes.

How is this real life?

I’m walking barefoot on the beach in October?

She actually smiled as her toes crunched in the sand. A slight, salty breeze kissed her cheeks.

No wonder everyone is so chill in Half Moon Bay.

If every day starts like this, I could probably get used to it.

She let her thoughts drift as she ventured closer to the water. The sand firmed beneath her, growing colder.

Yesterday had gone more smoothly than she expected. There had been a few hiccups with Jim, but nothing that had derailed the campaign.

Today, they needed to be even tighter. More cohesive in their approach.

As much as she hated the thought of having to watch Lacy fawn all over Pete, there was some real potential with him. If she could play this right and pitch Voyager, she might be able to leverage a promotion just based on this. Episodic video series were hot right now. Social media was quickly gaining a larger audience share from traditional TV and movies as users’ attention spans shortened. They were already on the apps, engaging with content, so it was a natural progression for influencer accounts to start sharing more “social shows.” Many brands had already jumped on the trend, but as of yet, Voyager hadn’t.

This was her chance to carve out a name for herself.

Her mind was spinning with possibilities. Pete could be the travel version of The Bachelor. With what she’d captured last night, she already had ample content for at least two episodes. Today, she could stockpile even more footage to spread out over several short videos. Pete was the perfect guy for a social show like this. He was warm, kind, genuine, and handsome. His wholesomeness came through in everything he did. Lacy was much more in tune with the camera, but that could be a good thing.

Shelby could take their “love story” in a few different ways. Some of the edits could be based on how people responded to the first episodes. If users loved them as a couple, she could play that up, but if they sensed Lacy might be a bit too much for Pete—which she definitely was—Shelby could weave that into the arc. That would be her preference. This idea had real legs. Sending Pete all over the country and potentially the world on a variety of adventurous dates had lasting potential.

She just needed to finesse her pitch this morning and send it to her bosses. Scripting, filming, and editing a social series like this would require a larger budget and possibly a small team.

Shelby would let Jim handle Miranda. He had a vision, and it seemed to be working. She wanted Pete. She needed this to work. She knew it would work. Now she needed to convince him and everyone on the Voyager team.

40

JIM

Jim hoped Miranda found the flowers. He hadn’t waited around to see her reaction. It was early, and he didn’t want to come on too strong. Although he likely already had. He couldn’t help himself because… last night.

Last night had been wonderful.

She had kissed him.

He still couldn’t believe it.

And he felt slighted that she had beaten him to it. He had wanted to kiss her all night, but had restrained himself, and then she’d surprised him. There were plenty of reasons he was attracted to Miranda Brown. At the top of the list was that—the fact that everything she did took him by utter surprise. He couldn’t get her out of his mind.

Did Shelby know?

He hadn’t admitted that much to himself. At least not until the kiss.

Was he making too much of it?

In the last five years, he’d gone on a steady rotation of dates. A handful of the women he’d met had interested him enough for a second, a third, even a short dating stint. Nothing more than a few months. The vast majority of the women he’d met through the online app his nieces had insisted he join—Middle Age Mingles.

Jim shuddered every time he heard the name.

Middle Age Mingles sounded like the grown-up equivalent of being stuck in a sweaty high school gym with cheap crepe paper and balloons hanging from the ceiling, sipping punch in a corner, while your friends worked up the courage to ask a girl to dance.

Kill me now.