Page 63 of The Sebastian Guarantee
His cheeks burned. Yep, this was worse—way worse—than the kitchen table talk.
“Is that what you ladies were doing? Talking vibrators?” he asked, begging the universe for the answer to be no.
“We weren’t,” Phoebe replied, eyeball-telling him to relax.
“Thank God,” he mumbled, then took the seat next to her.
“I was helping the ladies with a tech matter. They were trying to post an image to their website and were having some issues,” Phoebe explained, tilting the old laptop so he could see a rudimentary webpage. It looked like it hadn’t been updated in decades.
“We asked several people walking by for help,” Shirley explained. “But they were preoccupied and ignored us.”
“Isn’t that something?” Mae commented. “All these savvy innovators in my lodge and none can spare a moment for someone else—that is, until this kind young lady swooped in.” She patted Phoebe’s hand.
Mae was right. Phoebe had a heart like no other. The thought had barely materialized when a sinking sensation set in. Did he want to change that? Was he working to strip her of what made her who she was? No, it was more complicated than that. She’d demanded he turn her into a man-eater. Why didn’t that make him feel better? Dammit, he had to figure out how to silence the gnawing voices in his head.
“Phoebe heard us asking for assistance and excused herself from her conversation to help a few tech-challenged little old ladies,” Theodora added.
“Do not call yourself tech-challenged,” Phoebe chided gently. “All you need is a little guidance and some time to play around, and you’ll be posting images like tech divas in no time.” She scrolled down the page and pointed to pictures of finished quilts. “See, Seb, they sell their quilts online.”
“And we’re having trouble with that, too,” Mae chimed, then shared a look with her sewing circle.
He couldn’t quite read the ladies. They seemed as if they were holding back, but he couldn’t figure out what they were keeping to themselves. Was it simply excitement? Perhaps they were grateful for some friendly tech assistance. Still, the vibe they gave off had an oddly familiar energy. Then again, Phoebe brought that out in people. Within minutes of meeting her, she’d draw you in like an old friend.
Getting back to the issue at hand, he leaned in and scanned the computer screen. “What are your sales issues? Maybe I can help.”
“We ask people to mail in checks to pay for their quilts,” Shirley answered.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a paper check. “I can imagine that slows down the process quite a bit.”
Phoebe clicked a tab and revealed a website featuring the women’s quilts with a more modern layout. “I whipped up a new page for them. Something a little fresher.”
“She’s so good with the computer and did it so quickly,” Enid remarked as the quilting quartet nodded.
“This is what I do, and I’m happy to help.” Phoebe turned to him. “I wanted to link a commerce feature, but I need your input.”
“Are you wondering which digital money management plan would be best?”
“You read my mind,” she replied, again gifting him with that smile that sent his pulse racing.
With every word she spoke, he fell further under her spell. He willed himself to shut off that part of his brain, but a lock of Phoebe’s hair came loose from her bun and dusted her cheek. Like it was common practice, he tucked the strands behind her ear, brushed his fingertips along her jawline, and stared into her blue eyes.
“The best digital marketplace plug-in . . . you recommend?” she murmured, talking like Yoda, seemingly caught in the moment, just like he was.
He drew his fingertips farther down to the hollow of her neck. “Yeah, uh-huh,” he breathed, not sure his mouth and brain were connected. It was like his head had turned into a balloon, floating peacefully atop his body, when a log in the fireplace cracked. He startled as the rustling hiss of the fire snapped him back.
“What do you do with the money after you earn it?” he asked, willing himself to act like a competent human being, not a swoon-struck bubblehead.
“We donate the proceeds to a food bank,” Theodora answered.
He knew what they needed. He scooted his chair closer to Phoebe. “Can I drive?” he asked and gestured to the laptop.
“Take the wheel,” she replied and nudged the ancient piece of tech his way.
He went to work, tapping away on the keys. “This site is called Pay It Forward. It was designed by STEM Development. They’re a solid company. They have several financial applications depending on your needs. They’re safe to use,” he explained, showing the ladies the site. “It’ll integrate with your webpage. Now people can buy your quilts electronically through your site—no mailing and cashing checks necessary. Another great feature of this plug-in is that it doesn’t charge a fee for nonprofits.”
“It sounds like what we need,” Theodora answered with a sly twist to her lips.
Phoebe patted his arm. “Sebastian’s the best when it comes to business innovation.”
