Chapter 6 Zoe
ZOE
Zoe stepped out of the doctor’s office with more hope than she’d had in weeks.
Finally, finally, she actually had a meeting with someone who might listen to her.
Sure, Nathan hadn’t seemed eager to launch a PR campaign, but even he had to have seen how useful she was when she’d cleared out his waiting room for him.
And there was no chance Carla Vassallo would get to him — he wouldn’t even speak to PR professionals during his workday.
All Zoe needed to do was kill a little time in this backwater Vermont town before going back to his clinic and acing the presentation.
Zoe’s first thought was that she should work more on her pitch. She needed to find somewhere in Islingburn with a good Wi-Fi connection and comfortable seats — a coffee shop maybe, or a coworking space.
But when she stopped on the sidewalk in front of Nathan’s clinic, which was run out of an old brick building with tall windows, bracketed by some leafy trees Zoe didn’t know the name of, she started to worry. There didn’t seem to be a lot to Islingburn.
On the left, the main road passed a secondhand clothes store, a shop that appeared to sell antique trinkets, a sewing and craft shop, a diner, and a small bookstore.
On the right, she spotted a grocery store, a hardware store, an ice-cream shop, and — thank goodness — a blue metal sign that read Coffee in loopy cursive.
That was it. That was the whole downtown, or at least what Zoe could see of it.
Stopping by the rental car to grab her laptop bag, Zoe headed down the street towards the coffee shop. She passed a few people who gave her curious looks. A few greeted her cheerfully with bright smiles. Uncomfortable and unused to such friendliness, Zoe just nodded at them.
The coffee shop turned out to be small and cute.
An eclectic mix of couches and chairs filled the space, and signs with slogans like Home Is Where the Heart Is and Be Kind, Do Good lined the walls.
The barista, who wore a name tag that identified her as Claire, greeted Zoe with a bright smile when she entered.
“Hi.” Zoe barely glanced at the menu. “Double espresso with oat milk and a pump of caramel, please.”
“Um…” Claire bit her lip and brushed her hands against her dark green apron. “Sorry, um, we don’t have oat milk. Or caramel pumps.”
What kind of coffee shop was this? Zoe swallowed her annoyance. “Okay, what do you have?”
“I can get you the espresso with your choice of whole or skim milk and some brown sugar?” Claire suggested, sounding more than a little hesitant.
“That’ll be fine. Thanks.” Zoe paid and went to find a seat.
There were already a few other guests in the coffee shop.
In one corner, three older men played a game with cards and a wooden board with plastic pegs that Zoe was pretty sure was Bridge.
Near the windows, a group of young parents with infant- and toddler-aged kids sat in a loose circle, talking, bouncing their kids, and sipping coffee.
Zoe found a free armchair near the back and powered up her laptop.
Soon, the other guests were tuned out as she focused on the pitch.
The few moments she’d spent with Nathan had told her a few things.
First, he really was handsome in person, in a nerdy kind of way.
He was tall, which was always a good thing, taller than Zoe had expected from the video.
And he had a soft scent, not of antiseptic, as Zoe might have expected from a doctor, but of fresh, green pine.
Second, he was completely clueless about his newfound fame.
Zoe could help him — and help herself in the process.
She just had to remind him that fame wasn’t a bad thing, like he seemed to think.
Maybe that was something to add to the presentation.
She created a new slide and began filling in information about the benefits of being better known. She just needed—
“Here’s your coffee.”
Zoe looked up to see Claire set a porcelain mug on the table in front of her.
“Thanks,” she said.
“And since you’re new in town, I also brought you a mini donut on the house.” Beaming, Claire set a small plate with a large powdered-sugar-dusted donut beside the coffee.
“Thanks,” Zoe repeated. She felt off-kilter, unsure how to react to people who were so friendly. “How do you know I’m new in town?”
“Everyone mostly knows everyone around here,” Claire said with a shrug. “Enjoy your coffee and just call me over if you need anything.”
Zoe nodded. Her skin crawled at the thought of a town where everyone knew everyone.
She liked her anonymity in New York. It was nice to always be able to disappear into a crowd.
Islingburn was just too small, with its few shops and even fewer restaurants.
It was hard to imagine why anyone would want to live here.
Zoe spent the next few hours fixing up her presentation.
Not wanting to get kicked out, she ordered a few more drinks as she went, but Claire didn’t seem annoyed that she was hanging around so long.
Eventually, it was time to return to Nathan’s clinic, so she headed back down the street.
There was a different smell in the air now, a little like rain, and the sky was slowly turning to dusk when Zoe entered the clinic.
The receptionist, Maya, was packing up to go home, and she gave Zoe a bright smile.
“Welcome back. Doc will be out in a second.”
“Thanks.” Zoe took a seat in one of the chairs to wait.
“Hey, by the way, do you have any tips on going viral?” Maya’s eyes were shining as she hoisted her purse onto her shoulder and came over to Zoe, who hid a smile.
“Do you want to be famous?”
“Oh, yeah. Totally.” The young, red-haired receptionist nodded enthusiastically.
“Well, my biggest tip is to focus on finding stories,” Zoe said. “Think about how to present something in your life, or something you’ve noticed, as an interesting and engaging story. Don’t worry about going viral at first — just think about how you can make people laugh or think or cry.”
“That makes sense.” Maya smiled. “Thanks. And hey, don’t let Nathan fool you. He’s a big softie, but he’s tough, too.”
“Noted. Thanks.”
Maya left, and Zoe was alone in the waiting room.
She looked around at the soft chairs, the play corner with toys, the end tables with magazines, and the station that offered free water and tea to waiting patients.
Without any patients, the room felt strangely empty.
She was about to pick up one of the magazines when the door to the offices opened and Nathan came out. He’d taken off his white lab coat.
“Come on back,” he said.
“Now I feel like a patient,” Zoe joked. Nathan gave her a quick smile and led her down the hallway to his office. There was a large desk with a computer and a swivel chair where he sat, gesturing for her to take the chair beside it. Zoe did so.
“Thank you for meeting with me,” she began. “I’ve put together a quick pitch about how I might be able to help you and your clinic — do you mind if I use my laptop?”
“Sure,” Nathan said, though he sounded tired more than enthusiastic. Zoe got out the laptop and opened the presentation she’d spent the last day and a half tirelessly working on.
“You’re at a big moment right now, both personally and in your career,” Zoe began.
“Your viral video currently has almost three million views and a lot of positive engagement. Your engagement rate is almost four percent, which I realize sounds like a low number, but it’s actually great — good engagement rates are considered to be between one and three percent for this kind of material.
Right now, people want to know more about you.
“What you need to do, what I can help you do, is act quickly. The social media attention span is very short. We need to capitalize on your momentum and grow your name quickly. We need to answer the question, ‘Who is the Hottest Doctor Alive?’ while it’s still being asked.
” Zoe clicked to the next slide. “I propose a simple strategy to grow your presence while keeping true to your brand—”
“I’m sorry.” Nathan slipped his glasses off and began polishing them on the hem of his shirt. “But I have to stop you right there.”
Zoe’s heart sank. This was her worst fear.
Even though she’d gone the extra mile, even though she’d actually flown out to Vermont, somehow, Carla Vassallo had gotten to him before she could.
He was about to tell her that he wasn’t interested in working with her, that he’d already signed on with someone else. Probably with Carla herself.
“What is it?” Zoe asked.
“I just… I don’t want any of this.” Nathan gestured at the computer, but Zoe got the feeling he was talking about more than just her pitch.
“I want things to go back to normal. I don’t want to capitalize on my momentum or build my brand or anything like that.
I just want to run my practice and help my patients. ”
Relief flooded Zoe. If Nathan’s hesitation was just about being famous, well, she could work with that. She was used to hard sells.
“I understand.” She shut the computer and put it to the side. “No more pitch, all right? I understand that you don’t want to become famous.”
“Really?” Nathan seemed surprised. “I thought you’d push me more on this. It’s your job to make people famous, right?”
Zoe chuckled. “There’s more to it than that. And yes, I am surprised that you don’t want to be the next Doc Tory or Hope’s Clinic, but I respect it.”
She didn’t respect it, but this was all part of the sale — as was dropping names of a few famous doctors.
“Thank you.” Nathan sat back in his chair. “So, you’ll help me get things back to normal?”
“Yes,” Zoe said easily. “If that’s really what you want. But I’m not so sure it is.”
“What do you mean?” There was an undercurrent in Nathan’s tone now, and he’d stopped polishing his glasses.