On Monday, Georgia loaded her briefcase, trying not to dread the process of cold-call sales pitches. It’d be easier to drive the ten blocks to Sundance’s main drag rather than hoof it in four-inch wedge sandals. The day was much warmer than forecast, and she’d be sweating like a whore in church by the time she reached her destination.
She waited in her car for a moment as she scanned the list of possible advertising sponsors for the Devil’s Tower Rodeo program guide. Barbara’s suggestion of hard-selling the locals—especially after the previous rodeo promotion company’s lack of communication—scared Georgia a little. They’d both agreed playing catch-up at this late date might mean no business owners would be interested. No sales would reflect badly on her, so she had no other option but to channel her inner saleswoman and sell, sell, sell.
Luckily the committee that handled hiring the stock contractor, the entertainment, the rodeo announcers, the special guests and the individual chute sponsors also had commitments from the banks in Sundance for major sponsorships of the rodeo itself.
Her idea—albeit not an original one—was to get the businesses in Sundance, Moorcroft and Hulett to sponsor a grand prize called the cash cow, where the winner could choose between a fully processed and packaged whole cow or the cash equivalent. Their company had seen success with this type of promotion for a small rodeo in Oklahoma, and the participating businesses had a big uptick in the amount of walk-in traffic to their stores.
Georgia inhaled a couple of breaths to calm herself and smoothed the wrinkles from her khaki linen skirt. New businesses had popped up in the years she’d been away, so she’d start there.
Fields, an upscale restaurant that featured locally grown ingredients from vegetables and grains to beef, pork and chicken, took out a big ad.
The hardware store bought a full-page ad. As did Lettie from the Golden Boot. Then Georgia had to wonder if some of the businesses were doing it out of pity because she was a poor pitchwoman.
So? Her inner demon argued. A sale was a sale. And if she had to answer gossipy questions to make that sale, so be it.
She’d convinced the dentist’s office to advertise. As well as the feed store. The local implement dealership was providing ball caps, T-shirts and Frisbees for the breaks between events, and they placed a quarter-page ad anyway.
All the places agreed to allow promotional signage and flyers in their establishments, in addition to the entry boxes for the grand prize.
When her stomach growled, she realized she’d missed lunch. She ducked into Dewey’s for a quick bite.
The restaurant was nearly empty. Thankfully the waitress who’d filled her ear with nastiness about Tell wasn’t serving. She ordered the soup and salad special, shuffling through her notes while she waited. She had quite a few businesses left to approach in Sundance and she hadn’t even started in Moorcroft or Hulett.
The server set the salad down first and spilled the soup. When she swore in Russian, Georgia’s gaze snapped to the willowy blonde. Then she apologized in English. “Sorry. It’s pretty obvious I haven’t filled in as a waitress recently.”
Georgia said, “No worries,”—in Russian.
That startled the woman. “It’s not often I run across someone in Sundance who speaks Russian.”
“My mother is from Russia.”
“Ah. I was born in the Ukraine. I knew many women who found husbands here. Do you speak Russian fluently?”
“Just passably.” Georgia slid her paperwork aside and pulled the salad and soup closer. “You’re welcome to join me if you’re not busy.”
The woman smiled. “Really? That would be great. Let me grab the iced tea.” She returned and refilled Georgia’s glass. “Busy lunch. Feels good to be off my feet.” She took a long drink of tea. “I’m Domini.”
“Georgia.”
“Named after Soviet Georgia?”
“Yes, few people catch that. I haven’t seen you in here before.”
“I’m usually in the back, making schedules and placing orders. I used to cook, hostess and serve, but I’m part time now.” Domini shrugged. “Most people think I’m crazy for working at all when I have six children at home.”
Georgia nearly choked on her soup. “You have six kids?”
“Yes. All of our sweet darlings came to us through adoption. While I love being a wife and mother, I need something for me too.”
“My mother didn’t understand that until she divorced my father.” Georgia stabbed a few pieces of lettuce onto her fork.
“So your mother…?”
“Was basically a Russian mail-order bride? Yes. It’s strange to say, even now. How about you?”
Domini shook her head. “I came to the US with a church group. Became a citizen and met my husband here a few years later. I spent most my life in an orphanage, so I am grateful that Cam has a large family in the area and they’re willing to help out with our kids. Are you from around here?”
Georgia shared the edited version of her life, finishing with, “It’s strange to be back. We had our ten-year high school reunion Saturday night.”
“My husband is a deputy. He was disappointed the police didn’t get called to the gym to break up any fights.”
“Who is your husband?”
“Cam McKay.”
Didn’t it just figure? Another McKay. “Tell was my date to the reunion.”
Domini pointed at her. “Aha! You’re the one they were talking about. The beautiful woman from Tell’s past.”
She muttered, “We didn’t have a past.”
“Maybe that’s the problem? Tell’s definitely got a past now, with his love ‘em and leave ‘em reputation. So watch your step with him. Now that I’ve done my duty in warning you—” Domini gestured to the pile of papers, “—what are you selling?”
“Ads for the Devil’s Tower Rodeo program guide.” Georgia grinned. “Wanna buy one or ten? All the other restaurants in town have bought space.”
Domini rubbed her hands together. “Absolutely. Can’t let our competition get the jump on us. What are the options?”
When Georgia hesitated, Domini said, “My sister-in-law Macie McKay owns this restaurant, so I do have the authority to make these decisions. But you can call her directly if you prefer.”
“No. That’s okay. It’s just… I thought the McKays were ranchers.”