eye on for the center, and managed to sweet-talk him into agreeing to sell the land to the youth fellowship for less than its book value and take the rest as a charitable donation.”
Kelsey smiled. “I have to meet this dynamo padre one of these days.”
“There’s more. Dennis Lawson, the manager of the hotel where Carlos worked in high school, offered to host the fundraising dinner and auction at cost. And one of the other pastors has an award-winning architect in his congregation who may be willing to comp his design services for the center.” He grinned. “Not bad for a week’s work.”
She leaned back against the edge of the work table and folded her arms across her chest. “That’s an understatement. And Father Joe and his colleagues aren’t the only ones with silver tongues. You roped me into the project, too. Quite a feat.”
He didn’t know how to interpret that last remark, and she continued without giving him time to decipher it.
“Hannah says she’ll bring her computer in here tomorrow and work on the Twitter idea, since I have wireless. I’ve also contacted the TV news programs in Holland and Grand Rapids. They sound interested in doing a story. And I think it would be helpful if you visit the churches that sponsor the youth fellowship and make a personal pitch. It would probably take you three Sundays to hit them all, but it’s doable if you’re willing. I checked the times of services at all of them. Part of your pitch should involve soliciting donations for the dinner auction—and encouraging people to attend. This kind of event can bring in big bucks if enough publicity and support is generated. Are you ready for this afternoon’s interview?”
Head reeling from her rapid-fire delivery, he nodded. “I think so.”
“Did you prepare any talking points?”
“I thought I’d just answer the reporter’s questions.”
She shook her head. “Not good enough. You have to guide the interview. No matter what you’re asked, no matter what the reporter’s agenda, you have to make sure you get your message out.” Pushing up from the table, she moved over to her desk, plucked up a printed sheet and handed it to him.
He skimmed the bullet points, impressed. In a few lines, she’d captured the key messages he needed to convey to the media, the congregations and any other groups he might address. The who, what, where, why and how were all laid out for him, with suggestions for ways to give the story the kind of emotional appeal that would tug at the heartstrings—and persuade people to open their wallets.
“This is great.” He looked up. “Hannah suggested I have lunch at the tearoom, so I’ll study this while I eat and jot down some notes.” He shot her an admiring look as he folded the sheet of paper in half. “I have a feeling you left a big hole in your company when you walked away.”
She gave a rueful shake of her head. “In the corporate world, no one is missed for long. Besides, I prefer to apply my skills to my own business. Although it took a—” She stopped. Moistened her lips. “…a strong wake-up call for me to realize I’d rather make my mark in my own business than in someone else’s.”
“What kind of wake-up call?” He knew it was a gamble to ask. She’d been skittish and close-mouthed around him since they’d met. Yet she’d seemed relaxed around Hannah, shared some of her history with his sister. Maybe she felt comfortable enough with him by now to answer that question. Wrong.
“Long story.” She brushed him off with a wave of her hand and moved on. “Anyway, I’m doing a major overhaul of my grandmother’s website, and I’ll be targeting very specific media with story ideas that should generate orders for the shop.”
Okay. Fine. She wanted to stick to business, he’d stick to business.
And try not to let it bother him that she was willing to talk to Hannah but not to him.
“That sounds like it may be very effective. But how much can one
Kelsey smiled. “I have to meet this dynamo padre one of these days.”
“There’s more. Dennis Lawson, the manager of the hotel where Carlos worked in high school, offered to host the fundraising dinner and auction at cost. And one of the other pastors has an award-winning architect in his congregation who may be willing to comp his design services for the center.” He grinned. “Not bad for a week’s work.”
She leaned back against the edge of the work table and folded her arms across her chest. “That’s an understatement. And Father Joe and his colleagues aren’t the only ones with silver tongues. You roped me into the project, too. Quite a feat.”
He didn’t know how to interpret that last remark, and she continued without giving him time to decipher it.
“Hannah says she’ll bring her computer in here tomorrow and work on the Twitter idea, since I have wireless. I’ve also contacted the TV news programs in Holland and Grand Rapids. They sound interested in doing a story. And I think it would be helpful if you visit the churches that sponsor the youth fellowship and make a personal pitch. It would probably take you three Sundays to hit them all, but it’s doable if you’re willing. I checked the times of services at all of them. Part of your pitch should involve soliciting donations for the dinner auction—and encouraging people to attend. This kind of event can bring in big bucks if enough publicity and support is generated. Are you ready for this afternoon’s interview?”
Head reeling from her rapid-fire delivery, he nodded. “I think so.”
“Did you prepare any talking points?”
“I thought I’d just answer the reporter’s questions.”
She shook her head. “Not good enough. You have to guide the interview. No matter what you’re asked, no matter what the reporter’s agenda, you have to make sure you get your message out.” Pushing up from the table, she moved over to her desk, plucked up a printed sheet and handed it to him.
He skimmed the bullet points, impressed. In a few lines, she’d captured the key messages he needed to convey to the media, the congregations and any other groups he might address. The who, what, where, why and how were all laid out for him, with suggestions for ways to give the story the kind of emotional appeal that would tug at the heartstrings—and persuade people to open their wallets.
“This is great.” He looked up. “Hannah suggested I have lunch at the tearoom, so I’ll study this while I eat and jot down some notes.” He shot her an admiring look as he folded the sheet of paper in half. “I have a feeling you left a big hole in your company when you walked away.”
She gave a rueful shake of her head. “In the corporate world, no one is missed for long. Besides, I prefer to apply my skills to my own business. Although it took a—” She stopped. Moistened her lips. “…a strong wake-up call for me to realize I’d rather make my mark in my own business than in someone else’s.”
“What kind of wake-up call?” He knew it was a gamble to ask. She’d been skittish and close-mouthed around him since they’d met. Yet she’d seemed relaxed around Hannah, shared some of her history with his sister. Maybe she felt comfortable enough with him by now to answer that question. Wrong.
“Long story.” She brushed him off with a wave of her hand and moved on. “Anyway, I’m doing a major overhaul of my grandmother’s website, and I’ll be targeting very specific media with story ideas that should generate orders for the shop.”
Okay. Fine. She wanted to stick to business, he’d stick to business.
And try not to let it bother him that she was willing to talk to Hannah but not to him.
“That sounds like it may be very effective. But how much can one
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