Shane saw her shoulders sink a little at that possibility.
“Are we voting on the concept or the name change?” the librarian asked. “Because we could be dog-friendly without a ridiculous new name.”
No doubt where Nellie stood.
“Yes, the concept would work without the name change,” Chloe said. “But then you have no hook. No promise to the guest. No way to generate national news coverage, and I do mean a few minutes on CNN and at least an hour-long special on Animal Planet.”
A few people leaned forward, like hooked fish.
“Animal Planet?”
“National news?”
“A promise to the guests,” Jane Gruen cooed. “I love that concept.”
Chloe nodded. “A promise is critical, Jane. It’s at the heart of every tourism campaign, and I believe the name of Better Bark does that.”
“We should keep the name,” Chandler insisted. “The dog thing’s a cute idea, and we still have ‘bark’ in the name.”
“Bitter,” Chloe replied. “Bitter is not better. It is a word that, by its very definition, is not friendly. It’s hurting the town, in my professional opinion.”
The statement, which had to have some basis in truth, silenced them all.
“That’s what makes the whole idea a winner,” Chloe continued when no one argued. “Anyone can say they are dog-friendly and have a few hotels or restaurants that welcome dogs, but I’m proposing you restructure this entire city around the universal love of dogs, and that starts with a name change.”
“Then we’ll vote by secret ballot,” Blanche said, standing up. “I’ll get my assistant to bring in ballots and a box. Chloe, will you step outside for a few moments?”
“Of course.” She stood and shot one more warm smile at everyone in the room. “I want to remind you that I have created winning tourism campaigns for dozens of cities and a few countries. I know this will work. I am one hundred percent confident that within one year of implementing this change, tourism will increase by a thousand percent. Asheville will be scratching their head about how to compete.”
On that, she left, and every person in the room—including Shane—watched her in wonder.
He was so attracted to her, it hurt.
Which made him certain he knew exactly how to vote.
* * *
When Chloe walked back into the conference room not ten minutes later, the adrenaline that had dumped through her veins after that presentation had finally settled to a low-grade tension that hummed through her.
She knew this would work. She had complete confidence in the idea and absolutely would bet everything she had that this idea would increase visitors to the town and help the local economy. And Aunt Blanche’s job would be safe, and Uncle Frank’s legacy intact.
But would they go for it?
Sure, a few of them would be old school and stick to the name of the town because they were distantly related to the founder or didn’t care that the place was named after the wrong tree. But if they were truly the business professionals who cared about the growth and success of their companies, then they should recognize that this was a great idea.
Especially Shane, who’d been unexpectedly quiet during the presentation and discussions.
Stealing a glance at him as she sat down, she still wasn’t able to read his expression. There was a warm glimmer of a tease in eyes that looked more green in this light and the slightest secret smile.
“The votes have been cast,” Aunt Blanche announced, pointing to a covered box in the middle of the table. “Chloe, since you didn’t vote, will you read them for the record?”
“Of course.”
They slid the box toward her end of the table, and she stood, letting out a little exhale of nerves and excitement. “Is there anything formal that has to be done or said?” she asked.
“Just show us each vote,” Ned said, as if she would stand there and lie to them.
She didn’t dignify that with a response.
“Nothing special for an advisory committee,” Blanche assured her. “This is merely step one to see if we will proceed. If this group votes for the idea, then we’ll create a plan to take the concept to the town council. If the vote is against it, we’ll table the discussion and ask that you come up with something different.”
“Okay.” Except something different wouldn’t work as well. Taking the lid off the box, she leaned over to folded slips of paper, all the same.
She took out the first one and opened it. “Yes.” She resisted the urge to add a slightly snarky smile as she turned the paper and showed it to Ned. Then she opened another. “Yes.”