Chapter Three
We were arguing about fantasy football. No one was yelling or getting upset, just giving each other shit. The number two sales rep, Lisa Sullivan, had won the league the last three years. To some reps, winning the fantasy league mattered more than earning the title of top sales representative.
Lisa was charismatic, attractive, and could be anywhere from twenty-five to forty-five years old. She let out a long, breathy laugh. “That’s why we’ll never see your name near mine or Alec’s on the year-end sales goals. You’re shit at picking marks.”
“Fuck off, bro. I get the shittiest leads here, and I’m still only a few places below you,” Luke, a Sr. Rep. a few years older than me, responded.
“Oh honey, you could only wish to be below me,” Lisa said, causing the gathered group to laugh. Then, she decimated him with, “And we get our own leads. If yours are shitty, what does that say about you?”
That was typical banter for the FinCrest sales crew, but far from normal anywhere else I’d worked.
Luke may have been a Sr. Rep., but Lisa was considered his superior since she’d been there longer.
Telling anyone to fuck off would be unheard of when I sold toilets.
Then again, what she said would’ve caused an HR intervention.
“Not all of them!” Luke said, laughing with everyone else. “You know what I mean!”
Alec put his hand on Luke’s shoulder. “Nah, man. Gonna give this one to Lisa.”
Luke wasn’t mad, and Lisa wasn’t preening maliciously. I couldn’t say it was the healthiest working environment, but it was a hell of a lot of fun.
“Fucking laugh it up, jackasses,” Luke said with a funny face. “We’ve got a sit down with Compact Communications next week. And when we score that deal, you’ll be begging to kiss my ass.” He turned to Lisa, “Are you okay being beneath me? Or is Alec the only one allowed to top you?”
Alec and Lisa exchanged a glance before the group erupted with questions. Compact Communications, or CompComm, was legendary in our little corner of the financial software world.
With eighty thousand employees worldwide, CompComm was a giant, B2B, communication infrastructure conglomerate that used finance software from the 2000s.
For such a large company to not be in bed with Intuit, Oracle, or even Microsoft was unthinkable.
The rumor was their Chief Financial Officer, a famously crotchety old guy who didn’t like change, once used a program in the ’90s that glitched out and caused a seven-figure error.
They were our micro-industry’s white whale.
Alec’s voice dropped an octave, and set his brow firm. “Meeting as in a pitch, or are you having lunch with someone’s admin?”
Luke’s face paled. “Well, she’s the admin for the new VP of Global Technology. She said she could get us a spot on her calendar. And if we’re as good as we say, and undercut Oracle enough, she thinks her boss can force the CFO’s hand.”
I felt bad for Luke. He was a good guy and a blast at happy hour, but he should’ve kept his mouth shut. The group burst into laughter. Among the accusations of trying to sleep with this admin, who was a grandmother, his ability to sell water in a desert was called into question.
“It’s closer than any of you assholes have gotten!” Luke said, embarrassed and defeated, but still laughing.
“That’s true. And it might work,” Lisa said, looking at her phone before showing the group a LinkedIn page.
“Looks like CompComm has new IT leadership. Both the VP and Senior Director of Global Technology are new hires in the last three months. That sounds like a prime target.” She smiled at Luke.
“Thanks for the tip. First one to land a pitch owes the other dinner.”
Alec shot me a glance. His eyebrow twitched as a smirk played on his lips. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Who’s to say you two will be going after them? This is huge, we should discuss strategy and tactics. Because remember,” he grinned like the devil himself, “a win for FinCrest is a win for all of us.”
“But a win for me is best,” Lisa said.
Alec smirked. “Don’t know about that…”
“Why don’t we wager on it?” I said.
The Sr. Reps led both casual and professional group conversations. Salespeople have big egos, and things like titles and seniority matter. The other Jr. Reps and I were most often the audience. But I had to take the chance, and hope I read Alec’s silent communication correctly.
“A wager, how? Should we cast lots on who gets to call or email them? Or maybe a foot race on which team prepares the deck?” Lisa said.
“No. Each of us antes up $100, so $200 a team. First sales team to deliver a pitch, not just schedule it, but delivers to someone at CompComm, wins the pot.”
“Two thousand dollars?” Lisa said, laughing. “Oh, honey…”
Alec stepped in. “No. The kid’s got a point, but let’s make it two-k per team. So, a twenty-k pot. And half of each team’s Star Award points.”
Lisa rose a brow and smirked. “And what if one of us closes?”
“Two points off the top of each team’s combined year-end bonus from last year,” Luke said.
Star award points were for purchasing FinCrest branded hoodies and shit, or a Visa gift card if you saved enough.
But two percent of our year-end bonus? Alec’s bonus might have been half my salary.
If not more. That would be thousands. If he wanted to split it evenly, which, knowing him, he might, there was no way I could afford it.
Before I could object, Lisa’s smirk slid into a smile. “Now that’s interesting. Alec? Kevin? Alicia?”
The Sr. Sales Reps. agreed, and soon, that was the official bet.
One thousand dollars from the twenty of us, the entire pot going to the first team to deliver a pitch to Compact Communications.
If a team closed the deal, they’d get much more than that.
Making it a team’s combined bonus obscured what we made to the others. There was no way I could afford that!
Promises were made to regroup at happy hour that night to finalize the details. It was better to discuss it off company time, according to one of the older Sr. Reps. But as soon as the group dissolved to get some work done for the day, I let Alec know my concerns.
“What if Lisa closes in a few weeks?” I said as Alec took the seat across from me in one of the tiny breakout rooms scattered around our floor. “I can’t float even a few points of your bonus, man—I’m just not that liquid.”
The room was cramped. Two chairs, a table, and a small screen for sharing. I was looking forward to the promised renovations. The top floor, where the C-suite sat, was already complete and looked fantastic. All glass and chrome with larger, more open spaces and more non-traditional breakout areas.
I watched Alec deflate. The energy of the group setting shed off him in a single steady wave. When he spoke, he sounded sleepy.
“Mason, please calm down,” he said, closing and opening his eyes.
“Yeah?” I studied his face for a moment. “You good, bro?”
“Yeah.” His eyes were slow to focus on me. “Just home shit. Maybe you really should stay a bachelor forever.”
“Oh shit. Things not going well?”
Alec shook his head, clearing some of the fog, and smiled. “Nah, man, living the dream.” His smile turned artificial.
That’s how he was. He looked exhausted sometimes, but as soon as it was needed, he’d be up and active. Ready for whatever with a smile and the energy of a snarky eighteen-year-old.
Alec continued, “First of all, she won’t close that deal. We’ll land a pitch first, but that’s all it will be. The big boys will be all over them, if they’re not already. But if there’s a chance they’re open to a contract with us, we’ll close it.”
“Yeah, but—”
He lifted a hand. “But if she, or anyone else, somehow beats us, I’ll cover you. You didn’t work here last year to have gotten a bonus. No way anyone expects you to pony up. You’re excluded.”
“Yeah, but it was my idea in the first place.”
“You’re freaking out for no reason, Mason. I said it wasn’t an issue. It’s not. End of.”
He spoke with authority and finality. The topic was closed for discussion. “Ok…”
“We’ve got actual work to do,” he said, opening his computer. “Did you prepare that spec sheet like I asked?”
“Yup. You have it.”
He found and then scanned it for a moment. “Good job. Did you have an issue translating the original?”
“Nope, I speak Spanish. I thought that’s why you gave it to me.”
“Oh yeah… wait, don’t you speak a few different languages?”
I chuckled. “Yup. Spanish, Portuguese, and some Mandarin.”
Alec lifted a single brow, looking impressed. “Damn. Are you like a secret genius or something?”
“Nah. Just spent some semesters abroad.”
“Nice. You’re a world traveler, huh?”
I laughed. It was always amusing when people said stuff like that. The truth was, I hadn’t traveled anywhere near enough.
“I like to think of myself that way, yeah. But there’s so much more to see. I’m addicted to the thrill of it.”
“It has its perks. But also its setbacks. Especially when you do it for work.”
“The perks far outweigh the setbacks. That’s why I wanted to be in field sales. I need to be on the move. If I was stuck in inside sales for one more minute, I was gonna quit. No joke.”
“I sometimes think I’d be better off inside. Less stress. Less worry. Less effort. But also, less money. So here I am.”
“You think so? You read people like a book—figuring out what someone wants, and how you can give it to them, before they realize you’re doing it. That edge would be gone inside.”
Alec laughed and shook his head. “Have you met my mother?”
“Huh?” I said, confused.