Something To Treasure. Virginia McCullough
Where had that little one-liner come from? He didn’t know, but he instantly felt lighter, almost buoyant. But then he winced against the screech of a bus braking up at the stoplight on the corner not far away. “The traffic noise is bad. I better go. See you tomorrow.”
“Looking forward to it, Jerrod.”
The call ended, and he went back inside, conscious of his better mood. First, because of Carrie. There she was, cheerful and happy in a beat-up old plastic booth dipping fries in ketchup and still swinging her legs. And Dawn had amused him, too, with her melodic laugh and lack of pretention.
When he slid into the booth, Melody pushed his basket of food in front of him. “Here, we ordered for you. Better eat while it’s still hot.”
“Hey, cutie,” he said to Carrie. “Could be I found someone who can help me get some passengers for the trips to shipwrecks I was telling you about.”
“I saw the pictures of those boats,” Carrie told Melody. “They’re really old, just like in Key West, and they broke into lots of pieces.”
“They don’t get too many visitors, either, or so I hear.” Melody turned down the corners of her mouth. “They must be lonely out there in the cold lake all by themselves.”
Carrie shrugged and dipped another fry in the ketchup. “Could be.”
Apparently, lonely shipwrecks weren’t as alluring as lunch.
“So, you found a PR person?” Melody asked.
“A possibility. We’ll see. She was referred by someone I knew years ago. I’m meeting her at her hotel tomorrow. Best of all, she lives in Two Moon Bay.”
Melody’s eyes opened in surprise. “Cool. I hope it works out.”
“Me, too.” He didn’t want to be dramatic, but the success of his new direction and the safe and secure life he wanted to create for Carrie could depend on getting this venture off the ground.
ONCE SHE AND JERROD had settled into a couple of chairs in a quiet corner of the lobby, Dawn pulled out her notebook and pen. “I’m ready to work,” she said.
“Is that really a pen? And actual paper, too?” Jerrod asked. “How old school of you.”
She tapped the end of the pen against her temple. “Maybe so, but this is where it all begins. The computer folders and files and spreadsheets are launched in phase two.” She grinned. “I just made that up.”
Suddenly, she wished she’d accepted Jerrod’s offer of coffee. She could have used something to distract her from the man himself. She’d found him online, of course, and Jerrod had looked very good in his website photo. But it didn’t do him justice. Not even close. She guessed him to be around her age, maybe closer to forty, as opposed to her thirty-six. His almost-black hair showed no hint of gray to match his penetrating, but solemn gray eyes. Because of the nature of his business, she expected a guy with weathered, rugged looks. His open, unlined face had immediately thrown her at first. The tall, lean man in a fisherman’s knit sweater and jeans would have looked at home in a courtroom or maybe a classroom.
She’d come into the meeting wary, because a few red flags already waved and grabbed her attention. The oddly outdated website. Articles posted there were at least three years old. He had no active social media. Despite his up-to-date appearance, his promotion plan, such as it was, came out of the last decade. She hadn’t done a complete search. That could wait, but still, it was a little strange.
Jerrod leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees. “Why don’t I fill you in on the background of the business?”
She nodded, eager to stop thinking about how appealing he was and get down to the nitty-gritty of the meeting. For the next few minutes, she took notes about his fifteen-year-old business, headquartered in Key West, but sometimes working from outposts in St. Thomas and even as far away as Thailand.
“And you want to expand into the fairly small shipwreck diving market in the Great Lakes?” Dawn asked. Somehow, Two Moon Bay seemed an odd place to branch out, especially for someone with his extensive experience in tropical waters.
“I’ll be honest with you, Dawn, it’s an experiment. I...uh...lost my wife a couple of years ago, which led to cutting back my role in the business. My diving guides and the crew carried on at our home base in Florida. They kept us going. But I’ve recommitted to the business and I’m responsible for launching the changes it needs.”
That sounded reasonable enough, except...what? Why Wisconsin, why the Lakes? “Moving your company to the chilly Great Lakes is a big change. Especially for shipwreck diving,” she said. “It certainly exists up my way, but the summers are pretty short.”
“True, but my hometown is Erie, Pennsylvania. I grew up on the water.”
Dawn spent the next several minutes scribbling background information about the stories Jerrod grew up on, including his great-grandfather’s life on barges and ore boats on the lakes.
“Even as a kid I was caught up in the image of shipping in the area. My dad always said it was part of settling the whole country and making us rich.” Jerrod raised his hands in the air for emphasis.
“Well, when you put it like that,” Dawn said in a wry tone, noting the change in his expression. Finally, she’d managed to bring a smile to his face.
“I was fascinated with shipwrecks, too, which is why they’ve figured into the kind of diving business my wife and I created.”
My wife and I created. A partnership based on adventure? He’d piqued her curiosity. The more Jerrod talked, the more Dawn’s vision of a PR program for him expanded to include interviews and speaking engagements. Only a few of her clients were good media guests and public speakers. Jerrod might be one of them. His deep voice was matched with an easy manner of bantering back and forth. She was certain he could handle interviews and speeches. He already was a walking encyclopedia of the shipwrecks in Lake Michigan. But he’d be even better if more enjoyment or happiness came through. Hmm...she couldn’t coach that.
“So, do you think you can help me?” Jerrod asked. “I know I still have loose ends, but I’ll do what it takes to kick-start the season.”
And it would take a major push. Dawn liked the sense of bubbling excitement inside her. She’d asked for a challenge. Jerrod’s business was certainly that.
“Fortunately, I’ve got experienced diving guides and crew. You’ll get to know them, but they handle a lot of the desk work, the customer service end. Also, Wyatt is one of my instructors and guides, but she’s willing to help me create a new website.”
Wyatt, a woman, Dawn wrote in the margin on her page, along with notes about Jerrod’s short-term plans. It was only a matter of days before he and his crew would arrive in Two Moon Bay.
“Until I nail down the summer housing situation,” Jerrod said, “we’ll be staying in a place called, if you can believe it, The Sleepy Moon Inn.”
Amused, Dawn said, “Of course I believe it. The Sleepy Moon Inn is the town’s newest hotel.” She cocked her head. “You see, we have a law that you have to refer to the moon in any business name in town.”
“Kind of like Hemingway and Key West.”
She nodded. “Exactly. As it happens, though, the Half Moon Café is one of the best restaurants in town. Don’t write it off as a tourist trap.” Dawn gathered her thoughts. She had a hunch Jerrod might misunderstand Two Moon Bay. “Visitors give the place a chance because of its obvious theme, but as you’ll see, they stay or come back because they like the kind of town it is. It was once a fishing haven, but now it’s a tourist hub that local people enjoy.” She could have listed a few points, but she’d wait until he was in town and let him see for himself. Or not.