Yes, they’d had a misstep last season, one no one could have predicted, but there was no sense dwelling on it. Just like when he hiked, Trent believed that looking forward was the only option. Looking back would mean a stumble, maybe even a fall.
Which was why he should focus on the book, not the fascinating details about Kate he had yet to uncover. She was part of his past, not his future, and all this stuff about bowling and sea turtles was pulling him off that path he should be following. “Do you have enough material to write the chapters?”
She laughed. “No. But I can work with what I have, then fill in that outline some more, so you’ll know what other areas we need to expand upon. I’ll email the updated outline to you so you know what I’ll have questions about for the next time we meet.”
“Sounds like a plan.” They exchanged their bowling shoes for street shoes and headed out of the bowling alley. The skies had opened up while they had been inside, and a steady rain was falling. Trent and Kate hovered under the building’s overhang for a while. As much as he knew he should leave her to her work, and he should return to his own, a reluctance to leave kept him rooted to the spot. “I just realized we never decided who won.”
“We tied, one game each. I guess we call that a draw.” Kate looked out at the storm and made a face. “I really have to start remembering my raincoat.”
“Here.” Trent shrugged out of his fleece jacket and draped it over Kate’s shoulders. The thick jacket swam on her, but the pale green material made her eyes seem even darker and richer.
“Won’t you need it?”
Trent grinned. “I know where I can get another one.”
“Well, thank you.” She pointed a couple of lanes up in the parking lot. “My car’s over there. I can run and get it and drive you to yours.”
“KitKat, let me be the gentleman tonight.” He shifted the jacket to cover her head, then drew it closed. “Maybe it’ll make up a little for all the sea turtles I haven’t saved yet.”
She gave him a smile that was almost…bittersweet. “Maybe.” Then Kate darted across the parking lot toward her car. A second later, she was gone. Trent walked out to his Jeep with the rain pelting on his head and shoulders, not caring about the storm whirling around him.
The next morning dawned with a speck of sunshine and a whole lot of regrets for Trent. If there was ever a time GOA needed his undivided attention, it was right now. Every element of the company needed to be ready to launch the next level of success. He had employees to worry about, customers to take care of, and investors to soothe. Even as he brainstormed ideas, Trent’s mind kept skipping back to the night before and the conversations with Kate.
Just a few days ago, he’d been here, in this same conference room, with Kate. She’d walked back into his life, and already he couldn’t imagine her walking out again. When all this was done, maybe there was a way they could at least remain friends.
Friends? Was that what he wanted? Or was it all he was capable of right now?
He cleared his throat and drew his attention back to the people in front of him, refocused on things he could control. “So, about the IPO. How are things looking? What’s the mood from the investors?”
Jeremy smiled. “So much better than a week ago. Sarah’s PR push on the book, and the rapid boost in orders, will definitely ease the investors’ fears. That buyback idea you had in the middle of the night was great. Sarah dashed off a press release, and we’ve already got traction. CNBC did a short segment on it this morning.”
“That’s the kind of PR you can’t pay for,” Sarah said. “Everyone loves the idea of the unsold inventory going to needy people.”
“Glad to hear it.” The overstock of last quarter’s inventory had made his customers wary of investing in new orders. Understandable. On the way home from the bowling alley, with the conversation about the sea turtles still lingering in his mind, Trent had had the idea for the buyback. He’d called Jeremy—waking the poor man up—and had him send an email right then and there. Jeremy had called Sarah and, together, they’d gotten the word out before the sun rose. Already, a dozen customers had taken advantage of the program, then increased their spring orders to restock. “And the plans for the book launch party?”
Sarah slid a sheet across the glass table. “Caterer is booked, and the hall ordered tablecloths in the company colors. We hired a video production company to create a montage of GOA’s history, from the germ of your initial idea to its amazing expansion in the years since. I won’t get into all the A/V details, but it should be pretty impressive. We’ll set up for a podium for a speech from you at the beginning of the night—”
“No. No speech from me.” In the early days, Trent had run GOA solely on instinct. When he’d had to make a decision to turn right or left, he’d gone outside, spent some time in the stillness of the world, and waited for his gut to whisper an answer. It had been a long time since that had happened. Until last night, when he’d shed the corporate mantle for a few hours and let his brain clear the clutter. “Instead, I want to bring in some of the customers who have bought our products and celebrate their journeys. Without them, I wouldn’t be here.”
Sarah leaned forward, her eyes bright. “I like it, I like it. It’s different, engaging, and memorable. There are so many who have tagged us on social media after completing their first marathon or finishing a family hike.”
Trent nodded. “That’s who I want. Average Joes. Find a diverse group of stories. From the guy who bought our running shorts to do his first 5k to the long-distance cyclist riding the hills of Tennessee. I want the stories to be ones everyone can relate to.”
Jeremy fiddled with his pen, a nervous tic that said he was still thinking through the wisdom of Trent’s idea. “And the goal of these is…?”
“To show the investors what GOA is all about. There will be press coverage of the book launch, and I think we should start laying that positive press track as soon as possible. The message is easy: the investors might be about the bottom line, but we here at GOA want more out of our business and out of our lives.” Something Trent had forgotten in the last few months, but vowed to change going forward. The bowling had been a departure from the mundane sunrise-to-sunset days in the office, and he needed to do more things like that. The ideas his brain had generated after he’d gotten home were proof enough that getting out of the office was good for him and the company.
Of course, some of that residual excitement could have been because of spending time with Kate. Her smile. Her words. The way she’d traced a baby sea turtle in his palm. He could still feel her hand there, and the outline she’d drawn.
“I’m not so sure the investors are going to be all touchy-feely, you know,” Jeremy said, drawing Trent’s attention back. “Like you said, they’re only going to care about the bottom line.”