“Oh, my goodness,” her mother said. “And you even have a website? How impressive. You are fast.”
“No time like the present, right? Here, take a few more to hand out.”
“Of course, I’d be happy to,” April said.
“And Mom, about that summer festival you mentioned. I’d be happy to help you form a marketing strategy to promote it. I can arrange signups and create an email autoresponder. And a lot more.”
“I’m not sure what that is, but if you think we need it, we can talk about it.” Her mother looked at her with fresh admiration.
“You were right about my needing to get out. I’ll see you around.”
Maileah left with her mother gazing after her in surprise and started down the street. She stopped at a shop filled with beautiful, handcrafted jewelry. A woman sat behind the counter.
Swallowing her nervousness, she began, “Hello, I’m Maileah Raines-Smith. Are you the owner?”
“Yes, I’m Margaret. How may I help you?”
Maileah had practiced a quick introduction that she delivered now. “I’ve just moved from Seattle, where I worked in technology and marketing. Maybe you know my grandmother, Ella Raines.”
“Why, of course, I do.” Margaret smiled. “Everyone knows Ella and her husband, Dr. Raines, bless his soul. Gone far too young, he was. What can I do for you?”
“I help small businesses increase sales by setting up and automating marketing systems, as I did for my sister Junie’s gift shop at the Majestic.” She handed her a flyer. “You can check her website to see how I set up her direct sales. I also manage her email marketing and run specials for her.”
“That sounds interesting,” Margaret said. “I know I could do more, but I don’t know where to start. All that computer stuff confuses me.”
“I can make it easy for you,” Maileah assured her. “Look over my website, and I’d be happy to tell you more about what I can do for you.”
“I’ll do that,” Margaret said, reviewing the flyer with interest.
Maileah had one more question. “Is there anyone else I should call on that you think I could help?”
“Try Jimmy at the Wash-and-Fold,” Margaret replied. “He was complaining about something on his computer the other day. Tell him I sent you.”
“I sure will,” Maileah said, smiling.
She walked out, feeling a measure of relief. Her intellectual friends in Seattle might ridicule her for what she was doing, but she was determined to make her way on Crown Island. She had sent out her resume for remote jobs, but no one had replied.
Creating her own business that she could control was what she wanted to do now.
She wouldn’t have to answer to the men she had worked for who often assumed she’d naturally want to date them, too. Recalling some of what she’d endured, she shuddered. Not all her jobs had been like that, but that attitude was more prevalent than she would have thought today.
Still, she’d loved working for some of the women in technology.
But that was then. Her future was here.
She visited shops up one side of the village business thoroughfare and down the other. She booked three appointments, along with follow-up phone calls people requested.
Next, it would be up to her to convert that interest into engagements and then prove herself by enhancing sales for her customers. She’d done that for her entire career, and she was confident in her ability to produce. These were more straightforward campaigns than she’d created for her former company.
When she reached her car, she let out a breath. It felt good to believe in herself again. She hoped her family could see that soon. They had certainly seen her at her worst.
13
“Glad you made it,” Babe said as Maileah walked in the front door of Cuppa Jo’s. “Everyone is here. Join us in the front; I saved a chair for you.”
“Thanks,” Maileah said, appreciating that. The diner was crowded.
A large screen filled one wall. On the screen, a surfer glided through a barrel wave, a dramatic breaking wave that created a hollow barrel inside.
