Page 18 of Butterfly Sisters
Elvis inched closer to Leigh’s leg.
“Yeah, that’s right,” she said, typing the name and location into the search bar. “I wonder what good restaurants are coming.” A few articles came up and she clicked on one, scanning for shop and restaurant names that she might recognize. But as she started reading, she slowed down, focusing more on the article. “This says that the development has stalled…”
Mama leaned closer to see the article, the milky sweet scent of her coffee wafting over. “Stalled? Why?”
Leigh twisted the screen toward her. “Look here,” she said, tapping the second paragraph. “They’re struggling to get a foothold…” she read aloud. “Interest by retail and the food industry has been incredibly low and the developer is at risk of going under.”
“That’s terrible.” Mama leaned back, looking out at the water through the window. “The last thing we need is an abandoned eyesore on the edge of the lake. It looks like a great location to me.”
Leigh stroked Elvis’s ears. “I know. It shouldn’t be vacant. There’s no reason that people wouldn’t want to be in that location. It’s prime real estate. Doesn’t Holly Brush Lane go right by the back of it?”
“Yes. That’s a straight shot to the main road.” Mama pursed her lips, the coffee mug dangling from its handle in her fingers.
“So, it’s centrally located. It’s got fantastic boat access…” Leigh closed her laptop. “I wonder what retail stores they’ve contacted.”
Mama shrugged. She reached over to pet Elvis again, but he still wouldn’t let her.
“You know, this is what I do for a living,” Leigh said, considering the issue.
“Build restaurants?”
“No. I secure clients for businesses. I sell the company to them, make the offer seem irresistible.”
“Given the struggle it sounds like they’ve had, there’s got to be something wrong with it. I’m not sure you can make an empty development with articles written about how the owner is about to go under seem irresistible to anyone.”
“You’d be surprised,” she said, an idea prompting her to open her laptop back up. She began searching for statistics about Old Hickory Lake. “It’s all in how you spin it. I’ve had worse than this.”
“What are you looking for?” Mama asked, only half listening now as she grabbed her novel and opened it to the page she’d dog-eared.
“Background data,” she replied, focused. “Sell them on the potential for customers and the ease with which they’ll appeal to those customers, and that’s half the battle.” She clicked on an article and marked it.
“What kind of background data?” her mother asked, looking up.
“I’m checking for statistics on things like how much seafood is purchased at the local grocery stores, the number of boat charters in the area, how many houses are owned versus rentals. All of this will give me a picture of whom to target for Greystone.”
“You could work forthem!”
Mama’s wriggling excitedly caused Elvis to bark at her, simmering her down right away. She laughed, playfully reaching out for him only to receive another bark.
Leigh tapped on her computer. “It’s a small company. I doubt they’d have enough properties or income, given their situation, to take on a full-time employee for a position like mine, but what it could do is get me a nice project for my portfolio that might help me land another job somewhere else. I can see the headlines of the articles now: ‘Local woman saves retail at Old Hickory Lake; Business is now bustling.’”
“But even if you could make it work for them, you’re not staying here for long,” Mama said.
“I’d need to be available in person for the meetings with the potential companies, but everything else could be executed remotely.” She kept the Greystone website up and typed the number into her phone. “It’s worth a call.”
“I’d say so.” Mama stood up and set the novel back down, having not read a single page. “Want something to eat? I’m starving.”
“That sounds wonderful.” Leigh looked at Elvis. “Do you like bacon?”
Elvis twisted his head around and eyed her.
“I’ll bet you do. Come on, boy. Let’s get some breakfast.”
Meredith came through the house, laughing at something Colton had said, punching him in the arm, the two of them spilling onto the back porch where Leigh was sitting, still in her pajamas. Leigh’s chest tightened, but she hid it with a pleasant greeting.
Elvis dove off the porch sofa from his spot tucked up next to Leigh under their shared blanket and bounced around Colton.
“Where’s Mom?” her sister asked.
