“Sure do. And you’ve already got followers on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook.” She clicked over to show them.
He stared at the numbers. “How?”
“I piggybacked on the city’s social media to notify folks in Wishful that Inglenook has entered the world wide web. I’ve generated enough content to get you through the next two weeks. That’ll give you some ideas about the kind of things you can post, and see what sorts of things your clientele is into, and also where they’re hanging out. I’m anticipating you’ll see the most action on Facebook.”
“Okay, Facebook I get.” Brenda looked almost excited. “I can deal with Facebook.”
Cecily shot her a warm smile. “I’ve made a list of resources you can use for scheduling content across platforms. You don’t want to automate everything, but that way you can drip things into your various feeds at optimized times of day so that there’s something going on. And you’ll cruise through a couple times a day to actually interact with your followers so they know you’re a human, not a bot.”
Reed: Have you ever met an author or artist who’s a master of their craft and had a conversation wherein they make it seem like what they did was easy?
The phone buzzed again as Cecily began describing some of the other tools they could use to jazz things up.
Selina: I got to meet Stephen King once. That was pretty cool. And intimidating.
Reed thumbed a reply. Well, this is like that, but with marketing. This new plan is going to be great for the store!
Selina: I’m so proud you’re taking this step!
He shoved the phone back in his pocket. “Cecily, this is awesome.”
She held up a finger. “Not done yet.”
“There’s more?” What else could there be?
“I’ve set up a proper mailing list for you, so when you have that newsletter to send out, you can send the same information out to them via email. And there are already fifty-four people signed up.”
“Seriously?”
“I’ve even designed a template to match the design of the website, so everything is neat and branded.”
Reed nodded. “Brenda, can I borrow your notebook and a pen?”
With a look of faint surprise, she handed it over to him. He flipped to a clean page and did a quick sketch, being sure to cover his work so neither of them could see. Then he ripped the sheet out, grabbed a binder clip, and stepped over to Cecily. She didn’t step back—couldn’t because of the counter behind her—and he was aware he’d invaded her space again. She smelled like cinnamon and oatmeal cookies today, and he had to resist the urge to lean in for a taste.
She tipped her head back, looking more quizzical than disturbed, as he reached out to fasten the paper to her collar. “What on earth are you doing?”
“Adding a piece to your uniform.” The backs of his knuckles just barely brushed the soft skin of her throat.
Her short, sharp inhale was barely audible. Reed’s gaze flicked to hers, holding long enough to see her pupils dilate before he stepped back.
Cecily recovered quickly, looking down at the Superman shield he’d drawn with a big C in the middle. Her laughter rang out, bright as a bell. “I dig it. I’d be quite happy to add this as a formalized part of the uniform.”
“You earned it.”
“Just doing my job.”
“Still. I should have expected it. You are Norah’s protégée, and everybody knows she’s a marketing genius. Clearly the apple doesn’t fall far from the professional tree.”
She shrugged it off, but her cheeks pinked at the praise. “That is why I came all the way from Chicago to work with her. I’ll miss her when I go.”
Reed dimmed a little at the reminder. She had plans for her future and they didn’t include Wishful—wouldn’t, unless he could come up with a way to convince her to stay. “Any luck on the job search?”
“Not yet—”
He held in his fist pump.
“—but I sent out another round of resumes this week. Something will turn up. Anyway, we still need to talk about the book signing. This was all setting up infrastructure to actually tell people about it.”