passed out notebooks. The covers were paper-bag brown, with motivational sayings stamped across them. Things like Everyday I’m Hustlin’; Work, Play, Slay;, and Like a Boss. She also handed out colorful gel pens, adding that she would like them back at the end of the meeting.
Josh sat back in his chair, attempting to put as much space between himself and the meeting as possible. “I can go eat alone if you need me to.”
“No need,” Danae said. “That’d make me feel bad. Besides, you already signed the non-disclosure agreement.” She inhaled, and when she picked up her pen, he noticed a slight tremor in her hand. “As you all know, we need to have a cohesive marketing plan in place by the end of our trip. Vanessa, why don’t you start by telling us how you’re going to tie in today’s photos and videos so we can all provide feedback and support?”
Vanessa began a rundown of her ideas for the social media launch, and since the cheese plate had arrived, Josh tuned out and nibbled on that.
“…have the statistics. Men are our main target market.” Mark raised his voice, vehement enough about making his point that Josh was pulled back into the conversation. He’d obviously missed something.
“That doesn’t mean we should ignore our female subset,” Danae said.
“I never said we should. But our efforts—and our budget—should still be geared toward men over fifty with disposable income. So far, you and Vanessa are listing images and concepts for women.”
Vanessa huffed, clearly offended, and threw out a “Seriously? Are you saying that beautiful scenery is just for women now?”
“Of course not,” Mark said, holding up his hands. “I’m simply pointing out what I view as a minor oversight.”
Danae crossed one leg over the other, the table rattling as she bumped her knee into it. The purse of her lips suggested she had to work at remaining calm. “There are plenty of men who care about wine. If I recall correctly, you happen to be one of them.”
“Yes, but you’re still missing my point.” Mark glanced at Josh, and a sense of foreboding pricked Josh’s skin. “Would an image of wine or a vineyard make you think about buying a boat?”
“Uh, excuse me,” Franco said. “I’m a guy.”
“Yes, but you and your husband don’t feel the need to buy flashy yachts and sailboats to compete against other men for female attention. To buy one not only for sailing, but as a status symbol you can bring up on the golf course or over bourbon at the end of a long day.”
“That’s because I have more interesting things to discuss and brag about,” Franco said in a teasing tone, but Mark’s expression remained unchanged.
“Before you were hired as the web developer for Barton, how much did you know about yachts and sailboats?”
Dead silence.
“My point exactly. I bet if we asked Mr. Wheeler—”
“Josh is fine,” he said out of habit, unwittingly jumping into the debate with both feet when he’d resolved to stay out of it. All because he’d gotten sick of phone calls and meetings where it was Mr. Wheeler this, and Mr. Wheeler that. Out at sea, most people were stripped down to the simplest version of themselves.
Except maybe the woman seated to his right. Judging from the rapid tapping of her pen, the conversation wasn’t going the way she’d hoped, either.
“Anyway,” Mark continued, “if we asked you about the people you usually charter for, I’d wager that most of them are older gentlemen. Some who are going out with their fishing buddies—in search of a trophy catch, no less—and some with their wives or girlfriends.”
Josh paused, and everyone awaited his answer. “Most of them are, yeah.”
“At the caveman level, that’s what drives men to believe they need to buy a faster, shinier, bigger boat. Even if they don’t realize that’s why.” Mark peered across the table at Danae, and there was something about the way he looked at her that Josh couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Just because you want men to be more evolved and use things like use Google calendar to run their lives, doesn’t mean they are. Do you really want to risk putting too much emphasis on the wrong target market to prove a point?”
His challenge hung in the air.
While Josh might’ve been more tactful about it, Mark wasn’t wrong. In addition to the charter trips, most boat owners at the marina were male, and while there were a handful in their late thirties to mid-forties like