Chapter Three
So far the morning had been blessedly Sam-free. That was a good thing, but it was also making Clover nervous. She kept expecting him to burst in the door and start that flirting with her again.
She sighed and turned her attention back to Blue McCoy, the family matriarch and Sam’s aunt. They were sitting in Clover’s office, with the McCoy’s website pulled up on her computer screen.
Blue had brought her daughter Jemma with her to help out, since Jemma was a high school student and therefore able to speak the language of computer. Jemma had dark hair with blue tips. She was alternating between watching them and checking her cell phone.
“We need to start with your website,” Clover said. “Right now, it’s very plain and simple, it doesn’t have a blog, you don’t have a newsletter signup form, and you’re not optimized for search engines at all. I can recommend a couple of excellent web design companies. While they’re redesigning your website, we’ll be working on the content for the site and for your newsletter. I’m also going to be creating a Facebook page and Twitter and Instagram accounts.”
“Oh, dear. I understand some of it, but the rest of it…I feel like you’re speaking Martian.” Blue sighed.
“That’s because you still haven’t entered the twenty-first century,” Jemma said. Tap tap tap went her fingers on the phone screen.
Blue shot her daughter an annoyed look, then returned her attention to Clover. “What will we put on our new website?” Blue wondered.
“We need to take a bunch of pictures for the website.” Clover studied the screen. Dull brown and tan colors, a picture of the outside of their store, minimal text. “A good family portrait of you all standing in front of a blueberry bush. Pictures of you guys picking berries. Pictures of you at your farm stand and the store that you have in town, serving customers. And then a bunch of pictures of berry bushes, baskets of berries, jams and jellies being made…it needs to be mouthwatering. And then you need to give people a reason to want to visit your website again and again. The best way to do that, for your type of company, is to create a recipe section and post new recipes featuring your products on a regular basis. I’d also recommend that you hold monthly contests. First prize could be something like a free cookbook or a case of assorted jams and jellies.”
“Okay, I understand all of that.” Blue brightened up considerably.
“You definitely want to think of holidays. Recipes for the fourth of July, Valentine’s Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas…and your monthly prizes can be holiday themed on those months, too. And to get people to sign up for your newsletter, you need to offer them a freebie. I’m thinking a free downloadable mini-cookbook with twenty recipes, all of which would use your products. Jam tarts, raspberry lindt cookies, that kind of stuff.”
Clover glanced at Jemma clicking away on her phone. “And because so many people use their phone as their computer these days, we need to make sure that the website design is responsive. That means that it will look good whether it’s on a computer, a cell phone or a tablet.”
“I like,” Jemma said, nodding, her gaze still glued to her phone. “She knows her stuff.”
“Aren’t we lucky we found her?” Blue beamed at Clover with approval.
Fine, so Sam’s family was nice. Whatever. Sam was the devil in a bear suit, and she was still contemplating various ways that she could eviscerate him.
At noon, Jemma came to fetch her for lunch. Apparently lunch was provided for employees, and everyone ate outside at picnic tables on nice days. She followed Jemma out of the building, checking nervously for signs of Sam, but he was nowhere to be seen. She didn’t see Jeffrey either, unfortunately. She’d give it a couple days and then start casually snooping around and see if she could find out where he was hanging out these days.
There was a group of big picnic tables in the middle of the green by the office building, with a couple of dozen or so bears and humans already sitting down and chatting and eating. She and Jemma loaded up their plates with sandwiches and cookies from a buffet table, and sat down.
The chocolate chip cookies were freshly baked and gooey, and Clover stuffed one in her mouth and washed it down with ice-cold milk that Jemma poured for her from a ceramic pitcher. Working here did have its perks, she had to admit.
An older bear couple who looked familiar settled in across from her, with vaguely disapproving looks on their faces. They were introduced as Marjorie and Michael Thomas, distant relatives of the McCoy family.
“So, I understand you’re from the Jones family,” Marjorie said, arching an eyebrow, her words dripping with honeyed venom.
Oh, good. Here it comes, Clover thought.
“And I understand you’re from the Thomas family,” she replied.
Marjorie looked momentarily confused. “Well, yes. I just introduced myself,” she said.
Clover ignored her and dug into her sandwich.
“You’re coyotes and bears. That’s aninteresting combination.” Marjorie sounded out every syllable of the word “interesting” and stared intently at Clover, as if expecting her to sprout wings or grow horns on the spot.
Yep. They were half-breeds, all right. Clover was feeling more and more out of place. She should have known this would happen.
“So, what is your family up to these days?” Marjorie continued.
“Well, I’m working here.” Clover took another big bite.
“Yes, I see that.” Marjorie answered condescendingly. “What about the rest of your family?”
“They’re fine, thanks for asking.”
