Chapter 11
Otto
You’ve Got to Know How to Close
We end up at Sammy’s Burgers rather than a sandwich place. Mia suggested that we should support the burger joint since they donated gift cards to our community outreach project. Of course, I’m always up for eating grilled beef. There are a few seconds of awkwardness as we settle into a booth and wait for our order. Both of us apparently still grappling with how to handle the attraction between us. Mia ends the awkward moment by briskly opening her laptop and suggesting that we get to work. We focus our attention on the project, ignoring the elephant in the room.
“I thought we should brainstorm ideas for more silent auction items,” she says. “I hate to admit it, but approaching business owners to donate is a lot harder than I thought it would be.”
“Which businesses turned you down?” I ask, a little surprised that business owners don’t see the value in this community project.
She bites her lip and stares at me, then rattles off a list of restaurants that she’s contacted. “I’m not the best salesperson, as you can imagine. My approach might need a little work,” she concludes with chagrin.
Smiling at her pained expression, I say, “The secret is planting an idea, don’t let them dictate what to donate, direct their thinking. You’ve got to know how to close.” Pointing to myself, I ask, “Want to watch a master at work?”
She snorts and rolls her eyes. “What? Right now? Sammy already donated those gift cards.”
“True, but he needs to up his game,” I say with a wink. When our waitress appears a few seconds later with our food, I ask, “Is Sammy around?”
Her eyes widen. “Is there something wrong that I can help you with?” Concern laces her voice.
“He’s a friend and I would love to speak with him if he has a moment.”
Relief floods her face. “I’ll go get him,” she replies and trots off.
“You know Sammy?” Mia says.
“Let’s just say that between Levi, me, and Joey, we’ve purchased enough hamburgers to own a stake in this place.” It also helps that we comp’d Sammy some Golden Stars tickets a couple of times, but I don’t mention that.
We dig into our oversized burgers. I take a huge bite, while ingredients escape the bun and sauce dribbles down my hand. Across from me, Mia daintily knives off a small slice of burger, skews the piece with her fork, and pops it into her mouth.
“You eat burgers with a fork?”
She nods towards my hand and slides the napkin dispenser towards me. “Less messy.”
Her reply rouses the bad boy inside me. I desperately want to pull her hair down from that neat and tidy bun and mess up the strands...Or incite a food fight with our French fries...Or...
“Otto Stagmeier! As I live and breathe,” a deep, rumbly voice interrupts my train of thought. “How are ya doing?”
I quickly wipe my hands on a napkin, stand, and shake Sammy’s hand. “Doing well! Enjoying your awesome burgers.”
“Is this your girlfriend?” he asks, pointing to Mia.
Mia’s cheeks turn a dark shade of pink.
“No. We’re co-leads on a community outreach project.” I leap in with the correction before my co-lead does.
He slides in the booth beside Mia, unaware of personal space issues. She quickly scoots over to give his large body room while I stifle a laugh.
“Tell me about this project,” Sammy says.
“Mia, why don’t you give Sammy the elevator pitch?”
She holds up a finger, chews furiously, then swallows a bite of burger. “Otto and I are planning a fundraiser for an inclusive park. I believe I spoke to you about it on the phone.”
Sammy looks up at the ceiling, obviously trying to remember the phone conversation. “I vaguely remember talking to a lady about a park,” he says. “Sorry I don’t remember much since you caught me during the after-movie rush.”
Mia visibly winces, realizing her bad timing, but she composes herself and continues. “At an inclusive playground, children of all abilities can interact with each otherand do what all kids want to do: play. Playgrounds and parks need to be designed to be accessible to children with Down syndrome, sensory disorders, visual and hearing impairments, and those who use a wheelchair or other mobility aid.”
Sammy stares at Mia with new respect. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen more closely when you called. This is an important project!”
“People with disabilities are the nation’s largest minority group, and unfortunately, the only group that anyone can find themselves in at any time,” Mia adds.
Her words sink in, and a pall falls over our little group at the depressing reality. Trying to get the discussion back on a more upbeat track, I say, “Even though we’re selling tickets to the event as a way to raise funds, we need several high value silent auction items to help get us to our one-million-dollar goal.”
Sammy smacks the table with his hand, making Mia and our waterglasses jump. “By golly! Sign me up! I’ll buy a ticket for me and the Missus. What kind of silent auction item are you thinking?”
Mia looks at me with hesitation in her expression, but I subtly nod my head, giving her the go ahead to continue.
“How about catering for a twenty-five-person picnic that includes Sammy’s burgers, all the toppings, fries, and drinks? You would bring the food to their home or a park,” Mia says excitedly. “We could call it ‘Sammy’s Burger’s All-Inclusive Picnic for your Twenty-five Closest Friends and Family,’” Mia says as she paints a picture with her hand.
I give a mental fist pump. That’s the Mia I know! Nice touch tying in the project.
“People will place high bids on that one, especially if they’ve ever tasted your food,” I add, holding up my half-eaten burger.
Grinning, Sammy says, “I’m happy to do that for this worthy cause. Send me an email with all the specifics and include how to purchase those tickets,” he says with a wink. “Sorry, but I need to return to the kitchen. I’m embarrassed that I didn’t listen to your spiel the first time, Mia,” he says. “Thank you for giving me another opportunity to help.”
“Thank you,” Mia and I both say.
He strides off and Mia stares at me. “That was amazing,” she says in an awestruck voice.
“Which part? Your spiel, my close, or Sammy’s generosity?”
“All the above.” Her fingers hover over her keyboard. “Let’s brainstorm silent auction ideas but use a tag team approach to land them!” she says with a laugh.
“So, the competition is off?” I tease.
She cringes. “You win. I’m not even a close second with those paltry gift cards.”
I should gloat over my win, but she looks so apologetic, I extend an olive branch instead. “No worries! You just don’t have any experience. A tag team approach is fine by me.” Fortunately, I took The Art of Negotiation as one of my business school classes and I learned a lot.
“How do you feel about approaching the owner of Le Chateau Gourmand?” Mia asks with a waggle of her eyebrows.
“The stuffy French place that Levi took Bailey to?”
“That’s the one,” she says. “Here’s what I’m thinking...”
I nod and listen to her idea. I’m all too happy to team up with her on this part of the project. It means I get to see her more often, get to know her better, and maybe even snag that first kiss that keeps eluding us.