Chapter 14
MIRANDA
Miranda was flustered, but she did her best to conceal it.
Stop fiddling with your apron.
Stop touching your hair.
She wasn’t used to watching and re-watching herself on video.
It was awkward and strange. Did she always play with the strings on her apron like that?
Hearing her own voice was weird and off-putting.
Jim and Shelby kept reassuring her that she was a natural, but she felt stilted and cardboard every time they showed her a new clip.
She hoped they weren’t just trying to be nice. She could handle constructive feedback.
The afternoon sun streamed through the bay windows, dancing off the glass canisters in the front of the store and casting glittery reflections on the ceiling and hardwood floors.
There was an eager energy as customers lingered over bowls of tomato basil soup and grilled cheese on rustic sourdough.
The pastry case was nearly empty. Elise’s flower display with all the sweet bunches of fall bouquets had been sold, and the deli case had been picked over.
The sidewalk was filling in for the parade, and there was a steady stream at the checkout counter where Elise continued to send happy tourists off with bakery boxes and shopping totes filled to the brim. When her afternoon crew arrived, Miranda used the chance to check in with her niece.
“How’s it going?” she asked, peering over her shoulder to check the sales tally.
Fall Harvest Fest was a banner weekend for the Green Grocer.
As expected, their coffers were already overflowing.
That was a good thing. A great thing. She anticipated strong sales over the next few days, but this was far more cash than she imagined. It had to be due to Voyager.
Miranda didn’t live a lavish lifestyle. She made a modest income at the store.
Fortunately, the building and the two family cottages her parents had purchased were paid off.
But nonetheless, things were often tight when it came to budgeting.
There were always issues that snuck up on her, like needing to replace the roof a couple of years ago, or stocking up in advance of busy tourist weekends like this, and crossing her fingers and toes that the inventory she procured would be of interest to her customer base.
“Great.” Elise opened the cash register to reveal neat stacks of bills.
“I can’t remember the last time we had so much paper money on hand.
As usual, our debit card sales are solid, too, but so many people have said they brought cash because they weren’t sure if a town our size took other forms of payment. ”
“We are in the dark ages.” Miranda chuckled. “It’s a miracle we have indoor plumbing.”
Elise laughed, too, as her sparkling blue eyes drifted toward Jim, who was fiddling with his camera at one of the tables in the dining area. “What about you? How’s it going with Jim? What a silver fox. You two look great together and he seems pretty into you, Aunt Mimi.”
“No.” Miranda shook off the thought. “He’s just doing his job. I think he’s being extra nice because he knows I’m so green. Every time I realize there’s a camera near me, I can feel myself stiffen. I’m sure he’s probably trying to get me to relax.”
“First of all, you’re not green. You’re doing great.
Stop making yourself sound like you’re ancient, because you’re not.
You’re a sassy spring chicken and you know it.
And second of all, does his job include following your every movement?
” Elise asked, shooting another glance in Jim’s direction.
Pete had just returned with Shelby and was directing Jim to where to find the camp chairs in the storeroom.
“Because I’ve been watching him watch you, and damn, there’s some heat in the store today.
” She fanned her face and blew out a long whistle. “The chemistry is sparking in here.”
Miranda wrapped her arm around her niece in a half hug and planted a kiss on the top of her head.
“Alright, that’s enough from you, young lady.
Our replacements have arrived to take over, so I’m going to head outside for the parade.
Jim wants to get a few shots of me in front of the store before the bands and floats start coming. ”
“I bet he does.” Elise leaned her head onto Miranda’s shoulder and dropped her voice. “Because he’s totally into you. Sparks are sparking.”
Miranda shook her head and rolled her eyes.
Could it be true, though? “See you out there shortly.” She returned to the deli counter and removed her apron.
Then she ducked into the back room to check her appearance.
Miranda had never minded getting older. She appreciated the fine smile lines around her eyes and the way her face had softened a bit with age.
There was a wisdom that came with being in her forties.
She felt comfortable in her own skin and grateful that she’d long outgrown the need to impress anyone or try to be someone she wasn’t.
She grabbed the toiletries kit she kept on hand and touched up her makeup, adding a touch of blush, a dusting of pale purple eyeshadow that brought out the green in her eyes, and some lip gloss.
She readjusted her ponytail and slipped on a pair of dangly silver earrings.
She finished her quick change by layering a forest green puffy vest and a matching scarf over her T-shirt and jeans.
She stood back and appraised herself in the mirror.
Not bad.
You can do this.
When she returned to the store, Shelby waved her over to one of the bistro tables, which she had commandeered. Her laptop, tablet, and phone were all set up next to a cup of coffee and a plate with one of Miranda’s famous chicken salad sandwiches.
Shelby turned her laptop screen, highlighting a collection of photos she’d taken of the shops and restaurants. “I still need to run them through a filter. What do you think of this?” She clicked a button, and like magic, all the photos were suddenly washed in an airy sepia tone.
“These pictures are lovely,” Miranda said, sitting down next to her. She was taken aback by how pretty and young she looked. Shelby had shaved a decade or more off her face. “Although I don’t actually glow like that, do I?”
“Uh, I don’t know. Maybe you’re right. It might be too on the nose. What if we dial it back and add a warmer undertone?” With another click, Shelby instantly changed the photos.
“How do you pick? Those are stunning, too.” Miranda was impressed.
Shelby scowled, squinting at her screen. “I’m not sure if either of those is capturing the vibe we want.” She paused and looked at Miranda. “Is that what you’re wearing to shoot the parade?”
Miranda glanced down at her scarf and vest. “Yeah. Is this not okay?”
Jim passed by them at that moment, carrying two camp chairs. “You look great, Miranda. Green is your color. Plus, we’re twins.” He tugged on his vest, giving her another encouraging smile. “Don’t get in your head. Just be you.”
“I like you in green, too,” Shelby agreed, studying Miranda with a new scrutiny that made Miranda’s cheeks burn again. “What about makeup, though?”
“I just put on makeup,” Miranda replied, absently touching her cheek. She had, right?
“You need more,” Shelby said matter-of-factly. “Remember, this is for film. I mean, I can run a makeup filter over you, if you prefer. You know what, yeah. That’s probably best. Then we don’t need to worry about touch-ups.”
“A makeup filter?” Miranda asked, looking at Jim for help. He shrugged, shook his head, as if to say don’t worry, I’ve got this. Then he propped the chairs against the wall so he could insert himself into their conversation.
“Let’s do a quick test.” Shelby reached for her phone and pointed the camera at Miranda. “Say something.”
“What should I say?” Miranda felt suddenly flustered. She clasped her hands in her lap and looked at Jim again.
“Anything. Talk about the lunch specials or what you’re looking forward to seeing in the parade.” Shelby circled her hand, encouraging Miranda.
“Our lunch special today is a tomato basil soup that we make with locally sourced heirloom tomatoes and herbs grown at one of the nearby organic farms. It’s a family recipe and always a hit with our customers.” Miranda felt stiff again. It was easier, more natural to film with Jim.
“Great. Check it out.” Shelby offered Miranda her phone to show her the video.
Jim peered over her shoulder as she blinked twice, barely recognizing the woman on the screen.
Every laugh line and tiny wrinkle was gone, replaced by an airbrushed image.
Her skin looked ten—maybe twenty years—younger.
She could have passed for Elise’s older sister.
Her cheeks were dewy, perfectly contoured, and shimmered unnaturally.
Even her lashes appeared to be twice their normal size.
“No. This isn’t right,” Jim said, giving his head a firm shake. “We don’t need extra filters. Miranda is gorgeous as she is, and remember, we’re going for relatable. This makes her look like a Kardashian.”
“Okay, the Kardashians are the OG influencers. They’ve been around for like twenty years and still earn over two million dollars for a single social media post. Trust me, that’s not what I want for you either.
We’re going for relatable, yet aspirational,” Shelby corrected.
“Everyone uses filters like this, Miranda,” she said, ignoring Jim’s hovering.
“You are beautiful, but this way we don’t have to worry about continuity,” she said to Miranda.
“Let’s say it gets hot this afternoon. If we auto-correct with a soft filter like this, no one will see so much as a bead of sweat on your forehead.
It’s easier to maintain a consistent brand image. Just like with the photos of downtown.”
“I understand, but honestly, I don’t even recognize myself.
There’s so much lip filler, it looks like I was stung by a bee,” Miranda said, handing Shelby the phone.
She did understand where Shelby was coming from, but she agreed with Jim.
Using a filter that made her unrecognizable wasn’t authentic.
“I don’t feel comfortable. I understand what you’re saying about making it easier and consistent, but I’d prefer to skip the makeup filter. ”
Jim jumped in. “I’m with Miranda. We lose credibility instantly if her audience is questioning whether she’s had cosmetic work done. I have to put my foot down on this one and say no.”
“Fine. Okay. I’m just trying to capture an aesthetic,” Shelby said. “It’s nothing against you or a statement on your age, Miranda. Even teen influencers use filters like this.”
“Right, but we’re not trying to appeal to a teen or beauty influencer audience,” Jim said with a worried frown before Miranda even had a chance to respond. His smile faded as he knitted his brows together and held his hand out in protest. “She’s perfect, just as she is.”
Miranda had clear boundaries and could advocate for herself, but she couldn’t deny that Jim felt a bit like a knight in shining armor coming to her defense like that.
Perfect, just as she is?
Her entire body warmed, like she was having a hot flash.
He thought she was perfect?
She knew that was far from true. She just wished she could get a better read on Jim. Did he really think she was doing well in this newfound role? Or was he a nice guy who was trying to salvage her feelings because he was personally invested in making the campaign a success?