Chandler
CHANDLER
T he surf shop is in a plaza a few blocks from the beach, and it's completely empty when we arrive. Not a good sign. We'd normally have the meeting at the conference room in the hotel, but this guy wanted us to come to him. We stand in the shop waiting for the owner to appear. A teenage boy who looks about 15 is stocking shelves, casually saying hello when we walked in. He does a double-take and eyes us curiously. "You guys need help finding something? You don't look like you're going to the beach."
"No, we're here to meet with Tom, the owner?" Sam says, and he nods his head.
"Right on. He’ll be here in a minute," he says, and then he goes back to stocking the shelves. If my plan goes well, we might be able to get a few more clients while we're here. I looked up the owner of the shop, and as it turns out, he invested in several of the restaurants along the beach. Which means he might be inclined to put in a good word for us.
A moment later, a man with dark hair, wearing a T-shirt and shorts, emerges from the back of the shop. I can’t help but notice Sam eying him when he walks in. She's not subtle with her googly eyes when he smiles and says, “Hello. Thanks for coming all the way here. Thomas Frankston."
Sam smiles at him when he shakes her hand. A little too long for a business meeting, if you ask me. “I'm Samantha,” she replies in a voice that sounds a little sultry, in my opinion. Seriously? They're still shaking hands and smiling at each other, and I'm starting to get annoyed. This guy is totally checking her out, eyeing her up and down, and Sam is looking at him like he's the answer to all of her problems. I don't know why, but I don't like this one bit. I clear my throat, and he turns to me before releasing Sam's hand to shake mine. I make sure to grip his hand tightly.
“Of course. We’re happy for the opportunity,” Sam replies in her bull shit voice. And I glare at the back of Tom's head when we follow him into his office.
“Let’s get down to business," I say, and Sam pulls out the report from her briefcase.
“So, we are going to need the basics for the company. Financial statements, credit card reports, any invoice or expense receipts, loan statements you might have, and income for the employees and yourself. Really, any expenses relating to the company.”
“Sounds good," he says and looks through his phone, seeming a little dismissive of the entire meeting. I don't like it. “But I thought I sent everything over in the email with your boss.”
“You did," I say. “But we think it’s important to put a face to who you will be working with. Sam and I have been working together for almost a year, and we will need you to keep in contact with us every month. If anything new comes up, make sure to let us know so we can prepare.”
“Right," he says and then puts his phone on the table face down and looks up at us .
“Listen, guys, I’ll be honest. I didn’t want to hire anyone to take care of all of this. We already have someone who handles everything, but my father, who used to own this place, wanted me to look at other options."
I glance at Sam, and she blinks a few times, like me, not quite understanding that we’ve come all the way here to be told that they changed their damn mind.
“Well, from what we were told, sir, you clearly stated that you were interested in our services. Why the sudden change of heart?” Sam asks.
“Honestly? I prefer to keep everything local. It keeps costs low, and I won't have to have someone traveling all the way down here a few times a year. I hope you can understand.” He gives Sam an apologetic smile. Douchebag.
“So, what you’re saying is you wasted our time?” I swear if we came all the way here for no reason, Ken is going to get a very strongly worded email. Tom gives another bullshit apologetic smile. “Sorry, but yes. That’s what I’m saying.”
“Right," I say and stand from my seat. The man sticks out his hand for me to shake it, but I ignore him. So much for my damn plan. Before I gather up our papers and call Ken to tell him this guy had us come all the way down here for nothing, Sam grabs my hand and gestures for me to sit back down.
“Mr. Frankston, I understand your concerns, but I think and I can offer you something that no other accountants can," she says. I sit back down. What is she playing at? Tom looks intrigued. “Okay, let’s hear it.”
“Well,” Sam starts, and I watch her wipe her palms on her skirt. She glances at me, and I give her a nod to continue. I want to see where this is going. “We have an…” she pauses for a minute, and I think she’s losing him until she says, “App! We have an app that can offer everything to you at the click of a button. You can update your information in real time, and there’s a chat feature where you can send message re quests or questions directly to or me. And it wouldn’t require us to visit you monthly, if at all. It’s also more affordable.”
“An app, huh?” It looks like he’ll probably go for it.
“Yes. If you needed anything, it would all be there at the click of a button.”
He seems interested, which is good, but I can’t help but notice the look he’s been giving Sam since we walked in.
"So, I could message you with anything I may need help with?" he asks, his question directed at Sam.
"For your accounts, yes," I clarify, trying to hide my disdain for him. He glances at me and then at Sam again. Part of me wants to tell him to forget it. Find a different CPA.
He's quiet for a moment while he thinks about it. Then he leans back in his chair and looks at me and Sam before he finally asks, "How much more affordable?”
After Sam convinced Tom to stick with us, we went over everything that we knew about the app. Which means I had to sit there while Tom and Sam made googly eyes at each other while pretending neither of them noticed. I should tell him he can only message me on the app for help. I'm surprised he didn't end up asking her out. Good thing he didn't, or I don't think I would have been able to keep quiet about it. Accountants shouldn't sleep with clients. And by that, I mean Sam definitely shouldn't sleep with Tom. At least she saved our asses. I'm proud of her. Now, 30 minutes later, we’re in the parking lot of the surf shop, and Sam is talking to Ken on the phone.
“He said he’d start sending the inventory through the App tomorrow.” “Yep. We will be on it as soon as it comes through.” She pauses. “Thanks, Ken. ”
She smiles at me when she hangs up. “Ken said I did an exceptional job! Even though the app isn’t public, he said he’s impressed that I used it as a save!”
Her excitement and the bright smile on her face make me smile. I’m proud of her, too. Very proud. “He should be impressed. I was ready to tell the guy off, but you did a great job.”
“Right!? Think I’m going to celebrate at the bar," she says.
“Are you now?” I ask with a smile. “And am I expected to pay?”
“Yep!" she says excitedly. I deserve a drink, and who knows? Maybe I’ll be able to take someone back to my room.”
This makes me stop cold. What? “You want to take a stranger to your room?”
“Yeah." She nods her head, giving me a confused look. "Some people do that. You, of all people, should know that.”
“They could be an axe murder," I point out.
“There's only one way to find out! Let’s get back to the hotel. I’m starving.”
I sigh and start the car, driving toward the hotel. The thought of Sam bringing a random guy back to her room makes my chest tight. The thought of her getting naked for a random man, letting him kiss her, touch her, doesn't sit right with me. My stomach stirs. I feel a bit tense while we drive back to the hotel. I glance at her, the proud smile on her face while she looks out of the window warms my heart. Sam can do whatever she wants. She can sleep with whoever she wants and take as many men back to her hotel room as her heart desires. Not that I should care, but I do. I care a lot.