Chapter 14 #2
“Anyway, the client in question, a movie director, happened to be in the office that day and grabbed a few. He loved them. Thought they were the best thing he ever tasted. Someone who didn’t sense the sarcasm told him that I baked them myself.
And I don’t know what got it into his head, but he was convinced that if I, a little ol’ junior account manager whose name he didn’t know, were to bake and deliver these cookies to the keeper of this list, that he’d get on.
So on the instructions of my boss and my boss’s boss, I did it.
I believe they equated it to ‘taking one for the team.’”
“Wow,” Grayson says in disbelief. “Did he get on the list?”
“Absolutely not,” I say with a laugh. “He was a shitty director making shitty movies. No cookies can fix that. Though the magazine that published the list did appreciate the effort, and I did a few campaigns with them after that, so it all worked out.”
“Hell, yeah,” Grayson says, tipping his now lukewarm coffee cup to me. “I once had to pay off a pizza delivery guy who accidentally walked in on my client hosting an orgy.”
I spit out my water. “Excuse me? Did you just say what I think you just said?”
“I did. No one was answering the door, and he heard music around back, so he walked around to deliver it. In his defense, the instructions did say ‘hand to customer,’ and he was doing his job. He just didn’t realize why no one’s hands were free.”
“Holy shit,” I say. “I know you can’t tell me, but I really want to know who this was.”
Grayson shakes his head. “Bound by an NDA and my personal code of ethics, which include no outright lying, no blabbing, and certainly no cheating.”
The no-cheating one sticks with me. “You realize now I’m just going to dig to figure out who it was.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
This has been how the conversation has gone. A little work, a little chat, shared smiles, a lot of laughs. Pretty much the perfect day.
It was almost inevitable that the conversation would turn to our jobs.
But in a shocking turn of events for me, I’m glad it has.
It’s been superficial talk. Random campaigns we’ve worked on.
Biggest flops. Biggest wins. Nothing too technical.
Just enough to get me comfortable with this line of conversation.
It’s like he knows exactly what I needed.
Of course he does. He has since the moment I met him.
“I don’t know, son… If these two are here any longer, we might need to give them resident status.”
Grayson and I both look up to see Howard and Declan walking up to our table, each dressed as if Christmas is happening right now.
“I must say, I do appreciate you going all-in on the Santa persona right now,” I say to Howard. "The red cardigan suits you.”
“This old thing?" he says, but he does add a little bit of modeling for me. "Just dusting it off for our Christmas party tonight.”
“Christmas party?” Grayson asks. “Is this your employee Christmas party?”
“The opposite," Declan says. “We're hosting one for all the guests. And we wanted to personally invite you both.”
“What kind of party are we talking here?” I ask. “You know, so I know what to wear.”
“A very impromptu one, but one that includes champagne, hors d’oeuvres, and music, so dress in whatever makes you feel that mood,” Howard says.
“We know this weather is less than ideal for the guests who, like you, are stranded here, or the ones who had to make unscheduled pit stops to get off the roads. We thought by throwing a party tonight, it would lessen the load.”
“Great idea,” Grayson says. “And something like that helps the goodwill of the guests. They might be grumpy now, but knowing you’re doing this, especially if it’s at no cost to them, that’s PR you can’t manufacture.”
“We weren’t thinking about that, but that’s wonderful,” Declan says. “Though actually, this idea spawned from PR.”
“How so?” I ask.
“You,” Howard says. “We got the idea after our meeting yesterday.”
Shit, what did I say? I say a lot of things in a pitch, so who knows what landed and what didn’t. I also try to sneak a peek to Grayson to see his reaction, but without making it obvious, I can’t get a read. “I’m glad I was able to give you an idea.”
“That’s the funny thing, you didn’t say anything specific,” Howard says. “But, when you talked about activities and things to do around the hotel, it…I don’t know, it just got our brains working.”
“We’re going to have a play area for the children, fully staffed to look after them, so parents can have some Christmas fun before the big day gets here.
We also have some teens, so we’re going to have a space set aside for them,” Declan explains.
“Then, of course, the party for the adults.
Because what is a good Christmas party without some reindeer games? "
“Reindeer games, you say?”
I don’t know why I’m so surprised, but Grayson’s demeanor toward Declan is now…nice? Happy? I mean, it should’ve been the whole time. But gone is the man who was trying to shoot daggers at him via his eyes, and here is an enthusiastic about-to-be party participant. I wonder what changed?
“I do say,” Declan says. “And don’t worry, Christmas trivia is a part of that.”
Grayson laughs. “Then I’ll be there with jingle bells on.”
I feel like I missed six chapters of a book. But before I can ask about anything, Declan and Howard are saying their goodbyes, while reminding us that festivities start at seven tonight.
It’s quiet for a few beats before Grayson speaks up first. “I’m going to ask the question, but you can tell me to fuck off.”
That makes me laugh, but it’s a nervous laugh, because I have a feeling what it’s going to be about. “With an opener like that, how can I not at least hear it?”
He leans forward, clasping his hands together. “What did you say to Declan and Howard? What made them suddenly want to do this party?”
He told me I could tell him to fuck off. That I didn’t have to answer. And my gut reaction is to not, especially considering what I said was nothing groundbreaking, and it’s also why I think I’m so successful in picking up clients. This is what Grayson’s wanted—he wants to know how I win.
And I want to tell him. Maybe this is the test. See how he reacts. If I’m even considering pursuing this—and right now that’s still an if—this is a hurdle we have to cross. Might as well jump it now, while it’s there for the taking.
Look at me…one small step for man, one big step for conquering emotional damage.
“I’ve found that my best presentations have nothing to do with telling them specific things to do. Making a client feel like they came up with the idea, but with a little help from me, seems to go a long way.”
Grayson seems baffled. “Are you kidding me? No specifics?”
“A few,” I say. “I can’t make it look like I come in unprepared.
But I make sure the ideas I do bring in are broad, that way it gives them a chance for their brains to work as well.
And that’s what I did here. I mentioned excursions for adults and kids, and having services set up for parents so if they wanted to go out on their own, they have childcare covered.
Give them a resort feel without the resort prices.
That’s what they can market on. That’s what will bring in young families who want to travel with children, but also feel like they’re younger adults having memory-making experiences as well. ”
“Fuck…” Grayson says, shaking his head. “That’s brilliant. If I had ideas like that maybe I’d have moved up the corporate ladder faster.”
“Is that what you want? A corner office at Sterling Strategies?”
He nods. “That’s been the goal. To become the youngest senior account executive in the company’s history. If I do it within the next eighteen months, I’ll hit the record.”
“It’s a good goal to have,” I say. “But what I threw out? Don’t beat yourself up about it. It was just an idea. I mean, I didn’t bring up podcasters. Putting them on a national stage? That was smart. Senior account executive smart.”
“Thanks,” Grayson says, a little blush hitting his cheeks. “Wait. How did you know I did that?”
“Because that was one thing I didn’t have in my presentation that you did, and they specifically asked me what my ideas were in that space. I had to scramble. You threw me for a loop, Ross.”
I can tell he’s trying to hold back a smile, but I want him to have this moment.
“You can smile,” I say. “Point for Grayson.”
“Thank you. But I should also award you a point. You’re a worthy foe.”
“As are you.”
“Can I ask you a question now?”
He nods. “Shoot.”
“How did he know about Christmas trivia?”
I watch as Grayson’s cheeks blush. I wasn’t expecting that reaction.
“Declan asked how we met. I told him you were the best trivia partner I could’ve asked for. That when we teamed up, no one else stood a chance.”
The smiles we’re sharing right now are unlike any moment I’ve ever had with anyone.
I don’t have a single fear that he’s going to steal anything we just talked about.
I don’t feel like he’s been mentally taking notes today of how to finally beat me.
No, this look here is only filled with admiration.
Respect. And dare I say…no. It can’t be that.
But it is making me think of some scary things.
Maybe I can do this.
Maybe we can do this.
And, the scariest of all, how badly I want to do this.