“Just garage band stuff. A while back, Skeeter helped him post some songs online to sell, but I don’t think those have ever done much.”
When a server arrived at their table, Sailor asked, “What’s the special?”
“Tacos,” Candy said, lowering her voice. “But you probably don’t want that again. How about that pastrami sandwich you like so much?”
Sailor hid a smile with his hand, but Maileah wasn’t as amused. They both ordered pastrami sandwiches with pickles, chips, and cole slaw. A local deli supplied Jo’s pastrami, so he knew it would be good.
After Candy left, Maileah asked, “Does everyone know about last night?”
“It’s a small town, and gossip is a popular sport here. Does that bother you?”
“Guess there’s no sense in trying to hide,” she said, scooting closer to him.
“Nope.” Sailor put his arm around her, feeling on top of the world. “We can be low-key, but the word is out.”
While they listened to the music, their food arrived. When Adrian and his friend took a break, Sailor turned to Maileah. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
Her face glowed with enthusiasm. “I volunteered to manage social media for the charity managing the surfing competition to benefit wounded surfers, athletes, and others who need on-island physical therapy.”
“Good idea. You’ll meet a lot of people.”
“That’s what I thought. But you won’t believe what else has happened.” Her words tumbled out. “One of the women on the committee owns a shop in town, Margaret Miller. Ipitched her on a small marketing job for her store. As it happens, the committee has a marketing budget they haven’t spent because the person they’d hired left for another position before he started. So they’ve asked me to make a pitch. It’s a short-term engagement but very high profile.”
“That’s wonderful,” he said, loving how animated she was when she was happy.
“My idea is to build a campaign around the surfers. I want to get video footage, starting with you. I saw that interview you gave in Oahu, and you were great. Would you mind?”
Sailor kissed her cheek. “Happy to do it.”
“It would also be a good way to build your brand.”
“My what?”
“Your brand. I saw that shirt you were wearing with your sponsor logos.”
“Well, that’s different. Companies pay for that placement, which keeps me in equipment and travel funds.”
“I also checked your social media accounts,” Maileah said, shaking her head. “Unless you’ve hidden them, you’re not out there much. Except for videos people have taken of you or your interviews.”
“I don’t care about being a celebrity. I’m more of a soul surfer; I focus on the sport.”
“Still, social media would be super helpful.”
“Why?” He recalled what had happened to friends being bullied online. “People spout off when they have no idea what they’re talking about. Some think every wave is identical, but each one is different. Surfing is as much about reading the ocean and waiting for the right wave as it is about how you tackle it. I don’t need to explain that every day.”
“People like to peek behind the curtain. Someone could manage your accounts for you.”
He grinned. “Like you?”
“Or someone else.” Maileah paused. “Have you thought about going after a deal for surf gear? A lot of pro athletes have clothing deals. Or create your own.”
She was good, but he shook his head. “I do all right. I’d rather spend my time catching waves. I’m always looking for ways to improve my technique.”
“I understand,” Maileah said, her eyes flashing. “But this is what I do. I could expand your brand and get more endorsement deals for you. At least let me run your social media.”
He didn’t want to dampen her enthusiasm. Yet, he hesitated to jump into business with her. Not yet anyway.
“Let’s talk about that later,” Sailor replied. “If you put your energy toward the charity, that would make me happy.”
