Page 28 of Joy to Noel
“What is it?” Liam asks with concern. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” I say, a bit breathless. “My graphic designer friend just emailed me the designs for my logo to add to my website.”
Liam nudges my shoulder with his. “Well? Let’s see it.”
I open the email and click on the file titled “MJE logo1.” My breath catches when the image pops up to fill the screen.Mylogo.
The word “Joy” is the focal point, large and centered in the angled design. It’s written in a brushstroke handwriting font, and the words “Madison” and “Editorial” are in a lowercase typewriter font. The words tuck underneath the top stroke of the capital “J” and to the left of the dip of the “Y” in joy, creating a frame around my middle name.
I blink to neutralize the burn pricking my eyes.
“It’s really good,” Liam says. “What’s the second version?”
Clearing my throat, I minimize the file and click “MJE logo2.” It’s the same design as the first, but where the initial version was in a muted sage green and gray, this version pops with a bright coral and teal color scheme.
“This one,” Liam says before I can say anything. “This one is much more you.”
“Is it now?” I ask, giving him a sass-laden look. He sass-looks right back. “Okay, yes, probably so.” I stare at the image for a moment longer, taking it in. “I do kinda love it.”
Liam drums the table. “All right, get your laptop. Let’s get that uploaded to your website and add your ‘I’m a professional and deserve to be paid as such’ price guide so you can land your first client tomorrow.”
Swiveling my head toward Liam, I raise a panicked eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“Of course,” he replies.
As if it’s that simple. Wave a magic website wand and, poof, I have a successful business on my hands. The reality of this task—of finding clients, of creating a stream of income—suddenly weighs down my shoulders.
Why did I think I could do this? If my boss of seven years didn’t think it was necessary to keep me around, why would a complete stranger hire me? This is a saturated market—there are plenty of freelance editors for hire. Who am I to break into the scene and expect instant success?
Liam’s voice calls me out of my crippling thought spiral. “MJ?”
Huffing, I stalk away to retrieve my laptop from the bedside table. “It’s Madison, Suits. And I don’t think finishing my website is going to conjure a first customer out of thin air on day one.”
When I return to the table, Liam is standing with his arms crossed. He gives me a pointed look. “I’ll let you keep calling me ‘Suits’ if you stop doubting yourself and get to the real work.”
Planting a hand on my jutted hip, I raise my chin defiantly. My reaction seems to be exactly what he was hoping for, if the gleam in his eyes is any indication. “Ihavebeen doing real work. Everything I’ve been doing has been to create a business that I can get off the ground. I can’t recruit clients to a business that doesn’t exist.”
Liam makes a show of considering my answer before pinning me with his stare once more. “Maybe. Or maybe you’ve been checking off practical tasks that are important, but not critical, because you’re afraid to take the leap. Afraid you’ll fail.”
Pursing my lips, I refuse to respond. Because I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of confirming his assessment.
“But I don’t think you’re going to fail, Madison Joy. So let’s get to it,” he says before he clicks on the lights of the mini Christmas tree. He takes a seat and dramatically cracks his knuckles.
I swallow my smile before I sit down next to him.
Chapter fourteen
Liam
I’m startled awake by Hamlet swatting my face. When I crack my eyelids, his seafoam eyes have a murderous look in them.
He wasn’t happy with me last night when I came home for two minutes to feed him before leaving again. When I finally left Madison’s cabin after midnight, I could hear his irritated yowling from across the gravel path. He gave me the cold shoulder as I changed clothes for bed, then he chose to sleep on the small loveseat instead of on the pillow above my head like usual.
I was too tired to go for a run this morning, so I’m late filling his food dish. Clearly, a swat to the face is what he thinks about my tardiness. Propping up on my elbows, I look Hamlet in the eye. “You still upset with me?” I ask. He meows in response, and I reach a hand to try to scratch his chin. He hisses and scampers off the bed.
“I guess that’s a ‘yes,’” I mumble, throwing the covers off.
After giving Hamlet breakfast, I take a shower and try to wash away thoughts of Madison. We accomplished a lot last night getting her website finished and creating social media profiles. She tried to claim everything as her own productivity for our competition. But I insisted that half the credit was mine since I was coaching her through how to optimize the flow of her website to entice clients. I also helped her update her LinkedIn account and strategize a series of social media posts to introduce herself and her editing services.
