Chapter 12
SHELBY
Shelby let Pete give her a personal tour of Half Moon Bay’s historic downtown.
It encompassed four blocks of shops and restaurants.
The storefronts and buildings were a mix of Spanish and Portuguese style.
Lots of terra-cotta stucco and pale brick facades, with outdoor seating.
Antique clocks, streetlamps, and leafy green oak and deep red maple trees lined the sidewalk.
There were pumpkin displays and a dazzling amount of orange, brown, and gold everywhere she looked.
Garlands of goldenrod and aubergine flowers and twinkle lights stretched across Main Street.
Shelby had to admit that Half Moon Bay was a mother lode for social content.
“How long have you worked for Voyager?” Pete asked as they came to a stop in front of Books at the Beach, a bookstore with a window filled with stacks of fall reads.
The store had created a display of falling leaves by dyeing old book pages in varying shades of yellow and red and cutting them into leaf shapes.
They dangled in the window above an antique writing desk with a vintage typewriter and quill pen.
Shelby paused to take a few pictures. She never knew what she would use when building a content calendar, but she had some hard rules.
Like filters. For Miranda’s feed, she was already envisioning using a sepia-toned filter on all the videos and images they shared.
She wanted to create a mood and atmosphere and needed the aesthetic to be uniform and clean.
Washing everything in a touch of sepia filter would give Miranda’s brand an ethereal vibe and capture the golden fall light.
She wanted to elevate Miranda. Sure, they could have some fun and weave in a touch of whimsy, but her goal with any of her major content creator accounts was to set an aspirational scene.
She wanted audiences to want to be Miranda.
She was crafting a fairy tale. A life that no average person could actually live.
She needed every aspect of Miranda and Half Moon Bay to be curated.
Half Moon Bay had an artistic vibe. There was an art gallery every few shops along, wine tasting rooms, and boutiques with patterned paper umbrellas and funky metal sculptures hanging from the ceiling.
An unnamed number flashed on her phone. Shelby’s stomach dropped like it was in a free fall.
Another creditor. Their warnings were growing sterner by the minute.
How bad could it get? She imagined an episode of The Sopranos, her mom’s favorite show.
Like, would someone actually come break her legs if they couldn’t pay?
Probably not. But repossess her childhood home and everything inside? Likely.
“Hang on a sec, I need to take this call,” Shelby said to Pete, stepping away from him and covering the phone with one hand. Her stomach rolled as a bitter taste spread across her mouth. She recognized the number right away. This couldn’t be good. “Hello?”
“Ms. Bowerson?”
“Yes.” She clutched her right hand tight, letting her nails dig into her skin.
“I’m calling with Citizens Bank regarding the formal notice of default letter we sent. As a reminder, your ninety-day grace period is coming to a close in one month. Will you be able to cure the default?”
Cure. What a joke. Shelby couldn’t believe the language the banks and credit card companies used. “You mean pay what’s owed?” she asked, keeping her voice low. She didn’t need Pete to hear this.
“That’s correct, Ms. Bowerson. As our letters have stated, all missed payments are due at the end of the ninety days. Now that we’re at the thirty-day mark, we’ve sent a notice of intent to foreclose.”
Shelby’s stomach dropped to her toes. This wasn’t unexpected. The bank had spelled out the requirements. She just wished she had more time.
“After that, we will proceed with a notice of sale, and the home will be sold at auction,” the woman continued.
“Yep.” Shelby clenched her jaw so hard that her molars grated against each other. “Understood.”
“Do you have any additional questions?”
“Nope.” Her blood boiled. She wanted to scream. But it wasn’t the bank employee’s fault. And she’d be screaming into a void. There was only one solution—she had to land the promotion. Otherwise, her family home would be sold at auction to strangers.
Shelby hung up the call and walked back over to Pete, wiping her sweaty palms on her pants and forcing a cheerful smile. Her own life might be falling apart, but if she could create a dream life for Miranda, she just might be able to salvage some of it.
“Everything okay?” Pete asked, looking concerned.
“Yeah. Fine,” Shelby lied. “Sorry, can you scooch to the left a little?” she asked Pete, shielding her phone with her left hand to block the reflection in the bookstore window and shifting back into work mode before her emotions could swallow her whole. “You’re in my shot.”
“Sure, yeah, no problem.” Pete moved next door to a rustic barn that housed a hardware store and waited for her to finish taking pictures. “What else do you want to see?”
“What else is there?” Shelby checked the time.
They still had two hours before the parade.
She wanted to get as many stylized pictures as she could, and then she needed to find a quiet spot to brainstorm exactly how she was going to turn the sweet yet slightly bumbling Miranda Brown into an aspirational influencer. She had her work cut out for her.
“The park is down this way.” Pete pointed to his right. “It’s all set up for the festival, so it might give you some ideas for B-roll. Is that what you call it?”
“Yeah.” Shelby nodded, pausing to capture the breeze rattling the leaves in the bigleaf maple trees.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” Pete asked, following her gaze to a sturdy oak on the corner. “My mom always told me that whenever you see the wind blowing in the trees, it’s a reminder that the trees are cheering for you. They’re our guardians, rooting for us at every turn.”
Shelby’s breath caught in her chest for a minute. “Wow, that’s… like poetry. Yeah, I love that. I could use some encouragement from the trees.”
“You’ll find them all around here,” Pete said with a soft smile, pointing in the opposite direction.
“The beach trail is that way. It’s a pretty walk, and the succulents are blooming right now, creating a carpet of burgundy and green against the sand.
It’s my favorite time of year, but the only problem is that the beach is probably already starting to get busy.
If you want an open shot of the aquamarine waters and coastline, you should go early.
I could meet you first thing tomorrow morning and show you around.
” He sounded hopeful, like maybe he actually wanted to hang out.
She was seriously tempted, but also torn.
The call from Citizens Bank was a glaring reminder that this weekend needed to go flawlessly.
It was the only way to secure the promotion.
But it was also hard to deny Pete’s natural charm.
He had a way of pulling her in and making her feel like she was the only person in the world he wanted to spend a single minute with.
Plus, she needed a brief distraction from thinking about how dire the situation at home was.
The call had sent her blood pressure skyrocketing.
She didn’t think Pete could tell, but her limbs felt wobbly and every breath felt like it took extra effort.
A few minutes wouldn’t hurt and might give her a chance to regroup.
“Sure. I mean, let’s see how much we get today, but I definitely don’t want to see another soul on the beach.
We need it to look like the entire coastline belongs just to you and your mom. ”
Pete laughed. “Good luck with that. There are going to be over two hundred thousand tourists in town for the Fest.”
“Then I guess we get up before all of them,” Shelby said with extra determination.
Pete was nice and low-key, but she needed him to understand the assignment.
She needed someone on her side. Someone who understood her vision.
Miranda and Jim were two peas in a pod. If left to their own devices, Shelby could only imagine the content they’d choose to create.
It would be too trite, too mom-ish, too cutesy, too average-everyday.
Pete was her best bet. He was close with his mom.
He could be their go-between, the voice of reason when Jim started droning on about connection and authenticity.
She felt bad even thinking disparagingly about his approach.
She knew he meant well, but the truth was, she didn’t need the competition and his approach was totally at odds with her own.
She needed this promotion to get out of debt and get her mom back on her feet.
Shelby wasn’t just motivated for herself.
She was doing this for her entire family.
If she could demonstrate her ability to bring in a new market, like middle-aged moms, that could be the thing that finally put her ahead and landed her the promotion and, more importantly, the pay raise and bonus that came with it.
“That’s fine by me,” Pete said, dragging her back into the moment as they passed a giant mural on the side of a building depicting Half Moon Bay’s farming roots with fields of yellow flowers, pumpkins on brilliant green vines, and bushels of apples. “I’m up early anyway.”
“Good. It’s a date.” The minute the words escaped her lips, Shelby wished she could stuff them back in. Date? Why had she said that? It wasn’t a date. This was business. She recovered quickly, rolling her shoulders and continuing along the street. “Anyway, how about the park? Let’s hit that next.”
As they walked to the park, Shelby tried to formulate her pitch to Pete.
She didn’t want to throw Jim under the bus, but she really did need another voice of reason.
Staging for the parade had already begun at the park.
It was a sea of floats, people in pumpkin costumes, and high school and middle school marching band members and cheerleaders.
“It looks like the whole town is participating in the parade,” she said, taking a few candid shots of the activity.
“Yep. We usually do a Green Grocer float, but we skipped it this year since you all are here.” He sounded almost wistful, like he was disappointed not to be in on the action.
“Well, hopefully, we’ll get what we need over the next few days, and you can be back to your normal routine.
” She stepped off the path to make way for a guy in overalls wheeling a pumpkin the size of a small car toward the bandstand.
This was good. She was starting to feel a bit more normal. “Did someone grow that?”
Pete nodded. “That’s nothing. That’s small potatoes—or I guess, in this case, pumpkins.
You’ll see at the weighing contest later.
Last year’s winning pumpkin weighed over two thousand pounds.
The giant gourd was grown by an engineer from Santa Rosa.
We’re not talking about your neighborhood jack-o’-lantern here,” Pete continued.
“Growers have to cart their pumpkins in on trucks and trailers and use forklifts to transport them. It’s about bulk over beauty.
Weight wins. The prize is by the pound. I think last year’s winner brought home over thirty thousand dollars. ”
Shelby wondered how she might work that into her content schedule. Was it too hokey? Too Hallmark? “I’m glad we’re talking about this, because I could use your help.” She changed her tone. This was her in.
“How?”
She didn’t want to offend him. Miranda was his mom after all.
But Pete was young and savvy. He’d get it, especially if she couched her concerns as wanting to protect Miranda, which was entirely true.
“I’m sure you probably already picked up on the fact that Jim and I have different visions for how we best position your mom. ”
Pete nodded. “Yeah.” He paused to wave to a guy wheeling a caramel corn cart into the park.
Shelby was suddenly craving caramel corn. “Jim has been with the company forever, and he has a proven track record of client success. I just want to put that out there before I say anything.”
“Okay.” Pete sounded concerned.
“It’s just that I think Jim will try to lean in to making your mom every mom, which is sweet, and I think she has that energy.
” Shelby rushed to keep talking. “I worry that if we go too hard with that, it could make her come across as a little campy or corny, for lack of a better word.” She gestured to the popcorn cart.
“We don’t want her to be kitschy. It only goes so far.
I think the better idea is to build out an aspirational world of Half Moon Bay, play up the charm, the beauty, the fairy tale of running a small business in a place like this.
We can have a little fun with mishaps since that’s how her current audience discovered her.
I think we can stage some scenarios that really show her in a good light, but I don’t want to go too far down that road if that makes sense? ”
Pete nodded more enthusiastically. “Right. That was one of my hesitations. Elise and I discussed that at length. I don’t want her to be the butt of the joke. It’s cool if she’s in on the joke, but I would hate to have people make fun of her. The internet can be so cruel.”
“Exactly.” Shelby breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness Pete got it. “We want to control the narrative. I’m glad you get it.”
“I’m glad you’re thinking about protecting Mom.” Pete waved to a guy in orange-and-green lederhosen carrying an accordion. “She’s amazing. She’s worked her entire life to provide for me and make my life magical. I want this to be a great experience for her.”
“Excellent. We’re of the same mindset.” Shelby smiled, feeling a touch of weight lighten on her shoulders.
She had an ally in Pete. This was good, but it was hard not to wish her own parents were like Miranda.
Pete had no idea how lucky he was. It was sweet to hear him gush about his magical childhood.
She didn’t doubt it was true, but nothing about her family dynamic felt magical right now.
“I might need your help with Jim. We might need to gently remind him and nudge him back if he starts to go off script.”
“No problem. I’m your guy.” Pete patted his chest. “Consider it done.”
Shelby drank in a slow, deep breath and firmly planted her feet on the ground. She could relax a little. She didn’t want to battle Jim over strategy, but it felt good to know the numbers were on her side in case it came to that.