Sailing at Sunset Page 6

  “No need,” Danae said. “That’d make me feel bad. Besides, you already signed the non-disclosure agreement.” She inhaled, and when she picked up her pen, he noticed a slight tremor in her hand. “As you all know, we need to have a cohesive marketing plan in place by the end of our trip. Vanessa, why don’t you start by telling us how you’re going to tie in today’s photos and videos so we can all provide feedback and support?”

  Vanessa began a rundown of her ideas for the social media launch, and since the cheese plate had arrived, Josh tuned out and nibbled on that.

  “…have the statistics. Men are our main target market.” Mark raised his voice, vehement enough about making his point that Josh was pulled back into the conversation. He’d obviously missed something.

  “That doesn’t mean we should ignore our female subset,” Danae said.

  “I never said we should. But our efforts—and our budget—should still be geared toward men over fifty with disposable income. So far, you and Vanessa are listing images and concepts for women.”

  Vanessa huffed, clearly offended, and threw out a “Seriously? Are you saying that beautiful scenery is just for women now?”

  “Of course not,” Mark said, holding up his hands. “I’m simply pointing out what I view as a minor oversight.”

  Danae crossed one leg over the other, the table rattling as she bumped her knee into it. The purse of her lips suggested she had to work at remaining calm. “There are plenty of men who care about wine. If I recall correctly, you happen to be one of them.”

  “Yes, but you’re still missing my point.” Mark glanced at Josh, and a sense of foreboding pricked Josh’s skin. “Would an image of wine or a vineyard make you think about buying a boat?”

  “Uh, excuse me,” Franco said. “I’m a guy.”

  “Yes, but you and your husband don’t feel the need to buy flashy yachts and sailboats to compete against other men for female attention. To buy one not only for sailing, but as a status symbol you can bring up on the golf course or over bourbon at the end of a long day.”

  “That’s because I have more interesting things to discuss and brag about,” Franco said in a teasing tone, but Mark’s expression remained unchanged.

  “Before you were hired as the web developer for Barton, how much did you know about yachts and sailboats?”

  Dead silence.

  “My point exactly. I bet if we asked Mr. Wheeler—”

  “Josh is fine,” he said out of habit, unwittingly jumping into the debate with both feet when he’d resolved to stay out of it. All because he’d gotten sick of phone calls and meetings where it was Mr. Wheeler this, and Mr. Wheeler that. Out at sea, most people were stripped down to the simplest version of themselves.

  Except maybe the woman seated to his right. Judging from the rapid tapping of her pen, the conversation wasn’t going the way she’d hoped, either.

  “Anyway,” Mark continued, “if we asked you about the people you usually charter for, I’d wager that most of them are older gentlemen. Some who are going out with their fishing buddies—in search of a trophy catch, no less—and some with their wives or girlfriends.”

  Josh paused, and everyone awaited his answer. “Most of them are, yeah.”

  “At the caveman level, that’s what drives men to believe they need to buy a faster, shinier, bigger boat. Even if they don’t realize that’s why.” Mark peered across the table at Danae, and there was something about the way he looked at her that Josh couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Just because you want men to be more evolved and use things like use Google calendar to run their lives, doesn’t mean they are. Do you really want to risk putting too much emphasis on the wrong target market to prove a point?”

  His challenge hung in the air.

  While Josh might’ve been more tactful about it, Mark wasn’t wrong. In addition to the charter trips, most boat owners at the marina were male, and while there were a handful in their late thirties to mid-forties like Josh, most of them were over fifty. People like Tinsley were the exception, and her boat was a rental—and hardly a yacht. Although he wasn’t sure what Google calendar had to do with anything.

  In this instance, he hadn’t been asked a direct question and was going to keep silent. He and Danae had just formed a sort of truce among the vines and tasting barrels, and he didn’t want to undo it, because it would make sailing easier.

  Yeah. That was the sole reason. Not because he’d enjoyed those few minutes when it had been just the two of them, or how her laugh had made his pulse quicken.

  A muscle ticked in Danae’s cheek. “I see your point. We’ll come up with more images that’ll appeal to primitive men who think the only things that matter are money and impressing the ladies.”

  Josh bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing at the jab. Most everyone else in the group studied the spot in front of them like they’d never seen a table before.

  “Mark, I’d appreciate it if you could write up a list of at least ten images or video ideas to incorporate and share with Vanessa.”

  “Gladly.”

  “I guess that’s the end of my presentation, then.” Vanessa slumped lower in her chair and crossed her arms. She fired a tight smile across the table at Mark. “I do hope you won’t be offended when I point out minor oversights on your end as well.”

  “I expect you to,” Mark said. “Pushing each other is how we’ll make the entire team better.”

  Danae scribbled notes, and then their food arrived.

  After they’d eaten and their waiter had cleared their plates, Danae turned to Franco. “Let’s talk website. We want to portray elegance and the luxurious lifestyle while keeping it simple. You said you have a beta version for us to look at?”

  “Yep, which is why I brought my laptop, as requested.” Franco smiled at Danae, who returned his smile and thanked him. Then he opened his computer, clicked a few buttons, and swiveled the screen toward everyone.

  The excitement in Danae’s features faded a touch, and a contemplative crinkle creased her forehead. She tilted her head one way and then the other.

  Franco raised his eyebrows and scanned the faces of everyone seated around the table. “Well?”

  A couple of beats of silence ticked through the air, each one adding a layer of tension, and then Danae tapped the end of her pen to her lips. “Why is there an anchor in the middle of the menu bar?”

  “That’s actually the main menu button.” Franco maneuvered the cursor over it and clicked. “I thought the anchor would be a fun change from the norm.”

  “Super cool idea,” Danae said. “But I don’t think I’d realize that I could click on it if you didn’t tell me. You know?”

  Franco tightened his lips until they nearly disappeared and nodded. “Okay, I guess I can understand how that might be confusing.”

  “Are those graphics moving around like that all the time?” Vanessa asked, indicating the swipe of blue that came from the right and then the left, like two ships crossing in the night. “It’s a bit…dizzying. My eye’s working so hard to follow them that it’s all I can focus on.”

  “If you hover over one”—Franco moved the cursor to one of the sailboat graphics—“it stops so you can click it. Then you get the information on the different types of boats we sell.”

  Vanessa wrinkled her nose, which made it pretty clear she wasn’t a fan, and Josh eyed one of the empty tables, wondering if it was too late to make a break for it.

  “There’s hardly any copy.” Mark pointed at the screen. “And what is there is far too tiny for our older demographic to read.”

  “I think that’s partially because of the simplicity and color of the font.” Chair legs scraped the floor as Paige scooted closer and squinted at the screen. “What are the other options?”

  “Do you really want me to start rattling off every possible font a
nd color combination?” Franco asked.

  Now Paige was stung, her face crumpling, and Josh recalled enough from his time in a conference room to raise his shoulders in preparation for the moment this went south. “All I’m saying is that the font and background need to be more distinct from each other so people can read what little information is on the homepage.”

  “I can tell you’ve done a ton of work, and I like where you’re going with it,” Danae said. “But as Mark pointed out, our audience does skew older. Think sleek yet simple. Classic and straightforward. Along with a pinch more copy to help guide people who visit the website.”

  The laptop snapped shut with a click and Franco jammed his computer back in his bag, although it snagged on the fabric at first, leaving him to fight with it for a couple of extra seconds. The line of his jaw tightened.

  Danae said, “We should take a break.” A wise move, Josh thought, under the circumstances. “Paige can make her presentation tomorrow morning.”

  Paige nodded, and Vanessa sent a conciliatory smile Franco’s way. “Let’s go wine-shopping,” she suggested to him. “You said you wanted to bring some back for Justin.”

  He looped his bag over his shoulder and stood. “Sounds good.”

  His exit set off a chain reaction, everyone else muttering that they were going to go take a few last pictures or head to the gift shop.

  Then Josh and Danae were alone, and he didn’t know what to say or do. Perhaps he should’ve gone with the rest of them, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave Danae at the table alone after that tense exchange.

  Danae pushed her fingers to her temples. “This is why strategy meetings shouldn’t be done over wine.”

  “I’m not sure that was the problem,” Josh muttered before he thought better of it.

  Danae frowned, and the stress that had been weighing her down when he’d stumbled across her in the vineyard crept back in, tightening the line of her shoulders. “Let me guess, if we’d tied knots for an hour after lunch this would’ve gone better.” He opened his mouth, even though he wasn’t sure what to say, and she held up a hand. “I’m sorry. That was out of line. I just…” Her breaths came out shallow. “I needed for that to go well, so I’ve got a long night of brainstorming on how to fix it ahead of me.” She pushed out her chair and followed after her team, and then Josh was the one alone and sighing.

  Not only was the fifteen-minute ride to the ship going to be awkward, everyone was sure to be bumping into each other as they prepared for bed, and tomorrow they all got to wake up and do it again.

  While the lighter moments with Danae in the vineyard had been nice, this was a much-needed reminder that relationships were complicated and involved a lot of hassle, whether between coworkers, friends, or couples.

  The version of him that had wished for company last night had clearly been delusional.

  Chapter Six

  Today needed to go better.

  No, today would go better.

  Danae strolled up to the very tip of the ship’s bow, inhaled the brisk saltwater-scented air, and held it in. Live in the moment. What an easy phrase—one she couldn’t afford. People who lived in the moment were the same ones who later foreclosed on houses or left their loved ones without a safety net.

  She was the leader, and that left the responsibility for last night’s tumultuous meeting on her shoulders. While she’d been known to overthink and overstress about every possible scenario that might happen, she wished she’d been better prepared for how everything went down when Franco showed them the beta version of the website. Maybe if she’d written more notes, or studied tips for leading meetings, or…something.

  A tight band formed around her rib cage as she rehashed the last ten minutes of dinner, as she’d been doing for the last twelve hours. Franco was very talented, and a total whiz at technology, but he could be a little sensitive about his work. Then again, most people were, it came to their department and their specialty.

  While she was trying to remain optimistic, she was seriously doubting her boss’s theory that shoving them all on a boat would miraculously erase their differing opinions. If anything, it seemed to highlight them.

  Considering that they were about to sail away from the mainland, leaving her without any escape from the ship for an entire week, she contemplated walking the plank and making a swim for home.

  But she wasn’t a quitter.

  Besides, that wasn’t on the agenda.

  Heavy footsteps cut through the whirl of thoughts messing with her mind, and Josh walked up beside her and gripped the forestay. “Morning.”

  “Morning. Sorry about yesterday’s—”

  “Look, I—”

  Their words crashed in the middle, and Josh gestured to her. “You go ahead.”

  Danae fiddled with the charm on her necklace. “I feel bad about how everything went last night, including the fact that it put you in an awkward position. And I’m sorry I snapped at you. I was upset because it felt like I’d already failed, day one.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Josh said. “I know it’s not easy getting people to see eye to eye, and I’m plenty capable of getting myself into awkward situations. I usually prefer to put my foot in my mouth.” His crooked smile left her slightly off balance.

  “Is that so?”

  He nodded, and relief flickered for the first time since the meeting. For hours she’d lain in bed, trying to come up with a strategy for making today go more successfully. Up here at the front of the sailboat, chatting with a scruffy sailor wearing an army green jacket that suited his rugged style, her inner turmoil calmed, as smooth as the azure water that stretched on for miles and miles.

  The early-morning sunshine sparkled across the face of the silver watch on his wrist, turning it into a beacon. While a lot of people had given them up in favor of telling the time on their phones, there was something about a guy with a sleek watch. Or maybe that was her penchant for being on time talking.

  And I’m staring. In order to avoid being caught, she turned to the two platitudes written across the notes section in her planner. Since she apparently didn’t understand men or the “caveman drive,” she figured she’d ask a dude who had plenty of brute force skills.

  “Which quote do you find more inspiring and motivating?” Danae lifted her book and read, “‘Great things in business are never done by one person. They’re done by a team of people.’ Or ‘Talent wins games, but teamwork and intelligence win championships.’ It’s Michael Jordan, so—”

  “You figured it’d speak to the person who accused you of not understanding the male psyche in the meeting last night?”

  “Well, yeah.” Mark’s feedback had jabbed at her, and she’d hoped choosing inspirational quotes from men would help prove she could appeal to them as well as women. “Do you think it’ll work?”

  What was he doing? Hadn’t he decided he’d make limited appearances, as required, keep his head down, and just steer the ship?

  Only he’d seen Danae standing there, worrying her lower lip with her teeth, and he’d been completely drawn in, even as warning bells rang through his head. “You say Michael Jordan, and I’m sold. I’m also the older demographic, so…” He shrugged.

  Danae clicked her tongue. “You are not. Because that’d mean I’m getting close to that demo and I refuse to accept that. Mid-thirties is the new hip age, don’t you know?”

  Josh ran his fingers through his hair. Scattered strands of gray had begun popping up here and there, like hints of his dad shining through when he looked in the mirror. “Oh, great. Now I’m gonna need a new hip?”

  Her giggle danced across the breeze and smacked him in the chest. She had a nice laugh. While her business exterior could be a bit prickly, underneath it were hints of a kind person who obviously hadn’t laughed in far too long.

  Naturally, Josh would recommend less work and
more sea—knot-tying and all—but he doubted Danae would agree. Or appreciate the suggestion. Still, maybe he could sneak in a few fun activities without her realizing it.

  Until she was already enjoying herself, and then he’d have sold her on his methods.

  “What if I’ve left my thirties behind already?” Josh asked. “What does that mean?”

  Danae turned to fully face him. “That depends. Have you ever yelled at kids to get off your lawn?”

  A laugh burst free. “Not since my lawn turned into water. But I have been known to shake my fist at noisy waterskiers.”

  Danae’s shoulders shook as she laughed, and he wasn’t sure if he’d moved closer or she had. Light freckles dotted the bridge of her nose. She’d worn her hair in loose waves today, and the silky strands framed her face and added a no doubt false sense of accessibility. “Then I’m afraid the word hip might not apply to you.”

  Josh let out an over-the-top gasp, as if it were the worst news he’d ever heard, before he went ahead and laughed with her. He suspected many a man had been lured in by Danae’s beauty, only to discover the control freak resting under the surface. Then again, the jokes she’d made confirmed there was a lot more to her, and he found himself wanting to dig deeper.

  Not a good idea. This next week could get complicated and uncomfortable fast if he attempted to cross lines and it went badly. Come to think of it, the mere idea of crossing the lines and doing anything that might be viewed as unprofessional would probably offend her.

  And he wasn’t interested in a relationship anyway, so why had his tired mind gone there?

  Tired was the keyword. That was why he was noticing the way the sun lit up her profile. Why when the ship rocked and she gripped the forestay, all he could think about was how close his hand was to hers on the railing.

  “Anyway, thanks for the help.” After taking a second to steady herself, she flipped through her ever-present planner, peeled off a sticker, and placed it next to the Michael Jordan quote.

  “Did you just give yourself a gold star?”