Maybe marketing was still in her blood, after all.
24
Fraser sat with Bernard on the middle step of his porch, shaking his head slowly from side to side at Harper. She was struggling to hold up a gigantic cork board in front of her face, nose squished against the back of the frame. “Where did you even get a cork board that big?”
Harper propped said board against his chopping block, ready to present him with her marketing strategy. The board was almost as tall as her, rising from the soil to her chest, and was covered in magazine clippings and note cards dense with scrawled and highlighted ideas. She’d even made a mood board of what his shop might look like, if he chose to open one.
At his question, Harper twirled a strand of hair around her finger, the picture of innocence, before she dropped the ruse and crouched guiltily behind the board. “Alice and Cam weren’t using it at the café.”
“Youstoleit?” His voice rose in… well, he didn’t know what. If stealing was bad, why did she look so terribly cute, with that hopeful smile dazzling him like sunlight? Besides, he couldn’t imagine she was a very subtle thief, if his experience of her trespassing was any indication.
“I borrowed it. Secretly. Without asking.” She scratched her head with the lid of the black Sharpie she held, then quickly brushed past her confession. “Anyway—”
He couldn’t help but chuckle, scraping a hand over his face. “You’re ridiculous.”
There was a loud whoosh as an Unidentified Blurry Object flew towards him before the pen promptly bounced off his head. Bernard sniffed it when it fell to the ground, disappointed to find it wasn’t ball-shaped.
“Ridiculously amazing?” she said.
“That was implied.” He picked the pen up and threw it back at her feet.
Harper hummed, unconvinced, but her focus returned to the board. She pointed to the top corner, where Flockhart’s B&B was written in blue bubble letters, along with a wonky smiley face. “First, as we discussed – and I know your answer was no, but I am persistent in a non-annoying, adorable way – I think it would be good to get your furniture in the B&B and in other local establishments. When you’re ready, of course. No pressure. But picture this: a cheeky set of shelves in the bookstore, a nice little armchair in the tearoom… The entire town could have Fraser Originals!”
“We’re not calling them that, either,” he groused.
She ignored him, of course. “Just imagine. A tourist walks into Andy’s lobby and Fraser’s handcrafted cabinet in the corner catches their eye. They ask where it’s from so they can get one, too, and then they hear all about your portfolio!”
The idea wasn’t half-bad, but would he have the time and energy to focus on dozens of pieces to fill Andy’s B&B? Not to mention, Andy’s interior design taste was very…particular. Hence Andy’s tendency to enter dragon mode every time he helped with the renovation. Andy might not evenwantFraser’s stuff. It was far more elaborate than their usual quirky, modern style.
He opened his mouth to say just that, but Harper stopped him with a raised index finger. “I know you’re not keen yet. But eventually you might be. One day, I hope you will be. Until then, I’ve designed business cards that can be left around town. We could order them in time for Saturday. Look.” She scooped up her laptop from the porch bench, then sidled beside him on the step until all he felt was her warmth. Until he couldn’t quite remember what he was supposed to be looking at.
Her scent was so pleasingly familiar. Like morning tea and that fruity perfume he didn’t know the name of. And, now, the woodsy aroma of his cabin, as though the forest was entwining with her DNA. As thoughhewas entwining with her DNA.
“Fraser.”
“Hmm?”
“Focus.” She shoved the laptop in his face so that he had no choice but to stop ogling her.
When he saw her design, he drew in a small gasp, genuinely surprised. She had put real effort into this, from the swirling wood grain-patterned background to the neat, whimsical font readingHandmade by Fraserat the top.Handmade by Fraser.He liked that; it was simple, like him. Didn’t promise too much or too little. In the corners, silvery, gossamer-like wings and illustrated toadstools paid homage to his pieces on the Fairy Trail, not enough to make the card too busy, but enough to add a magical charm to the aesthetic.
How long had she spent making this? How much time out of her own busy day had she taken to come up with this plan?
He couldn’t believe her. Couldn’t believe how willing she was to encourage him.
When she saw that he was stunned to silence, she wrinkled her nose. “This is just a rough draft. It’s okay if you don’t like it. I have lots of other ideas for the brand name besidesHandmade by Fraser. And graphic design isnotmy passion.”
“Are you mad? I love it, Harp. And the name is perfect.” He took her hand, squeezing as a chasm opened up inside him. This was becoming real. His work could become a living, breathing thing that people knew about. That peoplecaredabout.
She’d made all that possible.
“You could even make key rings – from wood, of course,” she said. “Maybe offer some out to potential customers, as free incentives to keep people coming back. I know it would cost a lot to set up, but I have a full plan in place that would hopefully ensure a profit in the long run. Plus, you said my rent is helping with your extra expenses. Couldn’t you put some aside for this?”
He did have a nice little stash of money saved from her weekly payments. Enough to at least print business cards and maybe carve the free gifts.Besides, most of his stuff was upcycled. He sought out fabrics from charity shops and flea markets, used scrap materials from his carpentry work, and there was no shortage of wood in the forest, as long as he kept planting new trees to replace the ones he’d felled.
He took a deep, jagged breath as he pushed the laptop into Harper’s lap. “This is a lot.”
“I know,” she replied gently. “And there’s no pressure. I just want you to know that your work deserves to be seen. I know what it looks like to hold yourself back. It took me years to work up enough confidence to write, even though there have always been stories in my brain. It’s scary, to want something so badly, but to be afraid that people might take it away or ruin it. I get it. I really do.”
