“Fuck. I’m so sorry, Blue Bell.” He lifted his head and gave me such a sad look that I wanted to do anything to erase it. “None of that bullshit is true. You know that, right?”
“Yeah. Doesn’t make it less hurtful to read, though.” I made a face, not hiding the hurt. “Was not the best way to start working on social media this morning, that’s for sure.”
His expression tightened for a second before it shifted into wonder. “Use it.”
“Uh, use what?”
“The new social media presence you have. Start posting for your business. Ads on how to help, donate, spread the word. You want to board dogs—if they start trash-talking that, it’ll backfire on them.” He stepped back and clapped. “Yes. You can totally use this, Blue.”
I took a second and tried to envision what he meant. “They can’t be dicks to dogs.”
“Exactly.” He smiled, showing his perfect white teeth, and had an excited energy about him. “Where’s your laptop? Want some help about marketing and image?”
“Wait, really?” I hopped off the counter and we moved to sit side by side on the loveseat. “We’re doing this now?”
“Absolutely. Play it while it’s hot. And if I’ve learned anything about social media, lies and the internet, it’s to spin the story in your favor.” He reached over my legs and took my laptop. “May I?”
“Sure, but I want to see what you’re going to post first.” I folded my legs so they sat underneath my bum and the angle made me lean farther into Brigham’s body. It wasn’t the worst thing. The pine-scented soap mixed with his natural scent was a delightful combination.
He pulled up my account and frowned at the most recent comment.
She looks like a cocaine addict. No wonder he’s into her.
“Fuck, this sucks.” He sighed and slid a glance at me. “You’re beautiful, Sarah. I hope you know that.”
“Thank you.”
His gaze warmed and he patted my knee before going to work. “Do you have a social media account for your business yet? A logo? A website?”
“Not an account, a logo is a paw print that a freelancer sent me and I have the start of a website but not the URL as I cannot figure out a company name.”
“Hm. Okay. Let me think how we can work this.” He tapped his fingers against his chin for a few seconds. “You’re sure you don’t have a name? Forgive me for being direct, but it’ll be tough to get a head start on everything if you don’t have the brand name yet.”
“Blue Bell Boarding,” I said, hating to admit that his suggestion fit the vision I had. It was playful, yet clear in the message. “Blue Bell Boarding. That’s my name.”
“I love it.” He moved his focus back to the computer for a minute. “Okay, do you approve of creating an account under this name?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect. I’m starting a GoFundMe account for you. If people want to talk shit about your life, they can at least be guilted into donating to help animals. You do want to take in rescues, too?”
“My ideal business would be to board dogs, but to also house rescues until they can find a home. So any donations would help feed the rescues, bath them, supply the right shots.” It would be risky to start a business where a large part of it would depend on donations, but I could not imaginenothaving a place for rescues. “A GoFundMe would be excellent.”
“We play up the rescue side. The best we can. If you were some heiress swimming in money, there would be little we could do to help this situation. But thank Christ you are not.” He frowned after I made a confused expression and leaned over to kiss my cheek. “That was a compliment, BB. Don’t worry.”
I shrugged and focused on the image he was creating. “What’s your plan with that?”
“I’m going to share this promo from my own pages, too. If you’re going to have to deal with that negative commentary, the least I can do is help you achieve your dream.”
I took a deep breath and hated to feel excited. Was this taking advantage of him? Was he used to people doing this? I reached out and placed a hand over his, stopping him. “You don’t have to do that, Brigham. Don’t use your status to benefit me.”
“Are you not comfortable with it?”
“I’m not comfortable with using your fame for my advantage. I’m sure you’re sick of people doing that.”
“Again,” he said, his lips curving up. “I want to do this for you. The fact that you’re hesitant because of it is further reason why I want to help.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.”
