Chapter 13
chapter thirteen
Charlotte
My talents are not found in the social media world.
My own social media page gets updated once a year, if that.
Scrolling is too depressing and annoying for me.
All my friends are either getting married, buying houses, or happily living their perfect little lives.
I’m not really in the mood to feel bad for myself, and then watch how bad things are elsewhere in the world, so I don’t get on here much—unless I’m forced to.
With a coffee that’s getting colder by the minute, I sit at my desk, fumbling through videos and pictures, trying to compile a few promotional posts for Perfectly Planned’s social media pages.
It’s not fun, and I hate doing work stuff on my personal phone.
I’d much rather be doing my real job of planning events, but the boss wants social media posts and that’s what she’ll get.
I finish three videos and email them to Jenny for approval.
It’s nearly lunchtime, and my joints ache from being hunched over my phone for so long.
I get up and stretch, walking to the breakroom to grab a snack.
A new email appears and I think Jenny can’t possibly have approved my videos that quickly, but it’s from my apartment complex. Subject: Lease Renewal.
“Great,” I mutter, resisting the urge to throw my phone in anger. My rent is going up. By a lot.
“I’m taking an early lunch,” I call out to whichever of my coworkers are paying attention. Alicia gives me a quick, knowing smile and then goes back to her phone conversation with a client. I grab my sandwich and go sit on the sunniest bench outside.
I close my eyes and try to let the sun and fresh air make me feel better, but it’s no use.
I’m in a bit of a funk. Maybe it’s because I haven’t been assigned another event yet, and the gala is pretty much all good to go next week so I’m a little bored.
Maybe it’s that I’m still a little hurt over Caleb’s cold shoulder treatment yesterday.
Maybe it’s the stress of my rent going up.
I’m not even totally sure I can afford it easily.
I will have to find a cheaper place to live or cut back on other stuff.
Oh, and now my mom is calling. Wonderful. I love the woman but she always knows how to get on my nerves at the worst possible times.
“Hi, Mom,” I say, answering the phone.
“What’s wrong with you?” she says over the sound of her two tiny dogs parking.
“Nothing. What’s up?”
“You sound all huffy and annoyed. Are you mad that your mother is calling you?”
I roll my eyes and smile so she won’t hear the frustration in my voice. “No, Mom. You can call anytime. I’m just sitting outside eating lunch.”
“You can call me anytime too, you know. I’ve got the same number I've always had.”
“Sorry I haven’t checked in lately,” I say. “It’s been really, really, really busy at work.”
“I don’t like you working at that place, for that woman,” Mom says, adding some disgust to her voice when she references Jenny. “You’ve been busy, busy, busy ever since you took that job.”
“The life of a party planner is busy,” I say, not really sure why I’m defending Jenny. “I like being busy. I like my job.”
My phone vibrates with an incoming email and I put my mom on speakerphone while I check it. Mom talks about the importance of taking care of my health, and stress levels and blah, blah—I stop hearing her words because I’m reading Jenny’s email.
“Ughhhhhhhh,” I groan. “Sorry, Mom—not you, I—” I read over Jenny's email again and groan even louder. “My boss just emailed me.”
“Tell her you’re on lunch break and she can ef off,” Mom says, never one to actually curse but always one to spell-curse. “What does she have a problem with now? Because I know you’re the best dang event planner in the world, so she better not be complaining about your work!”
I chuckle at my mom’s ability to chastise me for not calling enough, and then immediately stand up for me a moment later. “She’s not complaining,” I say a little quieter, even though I’m outside and Jenny can’t hear me. “She loves some social media videos I made and is asking for more.”
Mom scoffs. “You’re not a social media girl. You are a professional event planner, Char. You should tell her no. And then you should find a better job.”
It’s not like I haven’t thought about it.
I love the work I do, I just don’t love who I do the work for.
This isn’t a huge city and event planning jobs don’t just grow on trees around here.
I finish up my lunch and the phone call and head back inside while fantasies of quitting dance around in my thoughts.
Jenny corners me the second I walk in. A brief panic shoots through my veins. Did she hear me talking crap about her outside?
No. There’s no way.
“So how about it?” Jenny says. “You make me several more videos like the ones you sent. They are brilliant and we’re going to monetize the hell out of them. Now we can have more revenue streams which means more money.” She smiles brightly and claps her hands. “Great job, Charlotte!”
“About that,” I say, harnessing those daydreams in my head to give me strength. “I’m not a social media person. I’m an event planner.”
“You’re clearly great at both,” Jenny says. “I loved your videos so much, and it doesn’t hurt that those Alden men are good to look at too.” She nudges me with her elbow.
“No, Jenny what I’m saying is that I can’t do both jobs. You should hire a social media person to go around and film our clients.”
Her lip twitches. She thinks for the briefest moment—a calculating boss move that always makes me tense. “Fine. What if I pay you a stipend on top of your salary? Say… three hundred a month for filming videos of your own clients. I won’t make you go film anyone else.”
My eyes bulge. That’s exactly how much my rent is going up. This could work. I mean, I’ll hate it, but it could work. “Okay,” I say. “For now, at least.”
“Great!” Jenny beams. “I’ll go get that stipend added to your paycheck and you head back to the Alden farm and get me more content!”
I feel like a sell out. But it’s three hundred dollars and the chance to see if Caleb will stop acting weird around me, so I drive over to the Alden farm and swallow my pride.
I guess I’m also a social media girl now.
It’s not hard exactly, it’s just not what I went to college for.
It feels like something teenagers do, but whatever.
Maybe I should look for a new job.
The twins, Max and Owen, rush over when they see my car pull into the driveway.
Max has Rain on a leash, and the cute golden lab seems to dance with excitement when she sees me.
With the three of them, it’s the happiest, warmest welcome a girl could ask for.
If only it was by the one Alden brother I want to see.
“That dinner last night was the bomb,” Max says. I can’t tell the twins apart, but the guy holding Rain’s leash has like a ninety-nine percent chance of being Max.
“We should do stuff like that all the time,” Owen agrees. “It made us feel like a real, legit operation.”
“We are a legit operation,” Max says, reaching in his pocket. “Charlotte, check it out.” He pulls up something on his phone and shows it to me.
“Wow,” I say. “The…Shirtless Dog Groomer…?”
“SDG!” he says with a little fist bump in the air. “I just got my official business license for dog grooming.”
“That’s awesome,” I say. “I’m still a little confused, but congrats. That's really cool!”
“There are a lot of dog groomers in town, and I need to stand out if I want to be successful,” he explains. “So I’ve got schtick. Maybe don’t tell my parents because they just know I’m becoming a groomer, but yeah.” He holds up his phone again.
“The Shirtless Dog Groomer,” I say, glancing at his new social media account. "That's you… washing dogs… while shirtless.”
“Yes ma’am.” He taps his (currently shirt-covered) chest. “It’s called multiple streams of revenue. I learned about it in college. You don’t just make money off your main business, you also monetize online. I made a YouTube channel and got a thousand followers in just a week.”
My body does a literal cringe. Jenny just said the same thing.
“Nice,” I say, quickly recovering from annoyance.
“He’s an idiot, but part of me wants to start a page called The Shirtless Vet School Student,” Owen says with a lopsided grin.
“It’s actually kind of why I’m here,” I say, feeling uncomfortable at the thought of talking to Caleb’s younger brothers about their shirtlessness.
“My boss wants me to get some social media content of you all since you’re one of our big clients right now.
Would you mind if I take some videos? You can have them too, and use them for your own accounts. ”
“Hell yeah,” Max says, reaching down and petting Rain’s head. “You wanna be an internet star, Rainy girl?”
Movement catches the corner of my eye, and I turn to see Caleb approaching from the kennel wearing tight-fitting jeans and a t-shirt so soaked in sweat it clings to every curve of his chest. He pulls work gloves off his hands and the moment he sees me standing here with his brothers, his eyes flash in surprise.
“Perfect timing,” Max says. “Charlotte’s here to take some thirst traps for social media.”