Chapter 3
three
The next week, we found ourselves back in the elevator at Take the Leap. I’d lobbied Ava and Tripp to have our client kick-off meeting at our offices, like we typically do, but I was overruled. Tripp preferred hosting meetings at his office, and Ava thought it would be good to start this ridiculous challenge by helping me conquer my fear of elevators. She’d even sent me multiple articles on the benefits of exposure therapy.
“Don’t hit me,” she said as we walked into the elevator and used her body to block the button panel.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” She then proceeded to do, well, nothing. The elevator doors closed, and we just stood there. I glared at her. She averted her eyes and didn’t move. My heart raced in my chest as the seconds ticked by. A sharp chill ran up my spine and sent a tingle over my scalp. I hated every bit of this. The four walls around us didn’t move, but the space felt tighter. Just as the panic was about to completely take over my body, the doors popped back open, and two older men in suits boarded with us. “What floor,” she asked innocently. When they answered, she dutifully pressed the button for their floor along with the forty-five for us.
“I hate you,” I whispered into her ear.
“I know, I’m sorry,” she said back with a grin. “But now that your adrenaline is pumping, you’ll be nice and ready to talk about skydiving and base jumping.”
I didn’t dignify her with a response. Instead, I leaned back against the wall and tried to regain control of my breathing. I picked at the cuticle on my thumb and channeled my anxious energy into my hands. She’d meant well; I know she did, but she’d thrown me off so much more than she’d ever understand or realize. Once I lost control of my insane imagination, it was hard to reign it back in. In the minute or two that we’d sat in that unmoving box, my brain had run through every imaginable horrific ending. We’d broken the rules of the elevator, and as silly as that might seem, it terrified me. She’d also completely removed any sense of control I’d had over this entire situation. The only thing keeping me in this elevator with her was the knowledge that Take the Leap’s first-month retainer was sitting comfortably in our business bank account. I shook off my annoyance and refocused my attention on the meeting we were about to walk into. Ava apologized again, and I forced a smile.
The receptionist, who we knew now was a grad student named Chloe, welcomed us with a smile and ushered us straight to Tripp’s office. Today, we’d be meeting with Tripp and his vice president of marketing, Liam Chase, AKA the blond kid who’d called me a scaredy cat. I tried not to let this fact and the knowledge that he’d barely been out of kindergarten when I’d graduated high school bother me. He had an impressive resume, even if he was basically an overgrown toddler.
“No cookies today?” Liam asked, not bothering to hide his disappointment.
“Sorry, I only bake in the dating stage of the process,” I replied. I smiled what I’d hoped was a casual, cool smile.
“Bummer.”
“I did bring donuts from Bites by Bates,” Ava said, setting the bright pink box on the desk. “No offense to my partner here, but I promise these donuts are even better than her cookies.”
“I doubt that,” Tripp said, “but before we get too comfortable, we wanted to give you a quick tour of the office and introduce you to a few of the key members of our team.”
Ava and I nodded our agreement. I fell into step beside Tripp. He was a good foot taller than me, and when he smiled down at me, I expected to be hit with the familiar feeling of inadequacy. Almost everyone looked down at me at five-foot-one, and I’d grown used to their looks of aww, so cute when they did. Thanks to my petite stature, I didn’t look a day over twenty-one, much less my actual age of twenty-seven. I was used to being underestimated. So, when I caught Tripp’s eye, his look of respect and admiration completely took me by surprise. There wasn’t even a trace of how adorable in the way his intense gaze met mine. I smiled back and knew that this was a man I wanted to get to know. Weird. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and I wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.
Tripp and Liam guided us through the maze of the office and introduced us to their creative teams and customer relations support staff. They showed us the brainstorming rooms where they came up with their monthly adventures for Quest subscribers: the members paid $99 a month for unique excursions only available to them. I couldn’t imagine anyone paying nearly $100 to risk their lives on surprise adventures, but they had close to 200 members. I had no idea there were so many options for thrill seekers. I’d wrongly assumed that jumping out of planes and off cliffs was it, but according to the Tripp, there was so much more.
We made our way through their accounting department, which wasn’t like any other accounting team I’d ever seen. It seemed like everyone had at least an arm full of tattoos and two extra holes on their faces, well, except Tripp. He had a few tattoos, but no visible piercings. Each of their cubicles was plastered with photos of them doing one extreme thing or another. It seemed like everyone in this company was completely sold on their mission.
“You have a very impressive team,” I said. “From our research, we knew this, but seeing it in action is completely different.”
We made our way back to Tripp’s office. Ava and I sat beside Liam in the chairs across from Tripp’s desk.
“Just wait until you see the actual work we do,” Liam said, his voice beaming with pride.
“Ready to get started?” Tripp asked as he shut the door to his office. “We’ve got a lot to cover today.”
We spent the next two hours reviewing every nook and cranny of Take the Leap’s business—where they were growing, where they were struggling, what had worked in the past, and what they’d never tried. By lunchtime, my head was swimming with ideas. While I didn’t truly get their business, their enthusiasm was contagious. Not that I was ready to dive into my piece of this challenge yet.
“It sounds like you’ve been doing everything right, but that there has been a natural ebb and flow to the business.” Ava was reading their latest annual report. “You mentioned doing some research? Do you have that handy?”
Liam pulled up a presentation on his laptop and cast it on the television across from Tripp’s desk. “We did a few focus groups and then a Quest member survey last spring. As you can see, the focus group results were mixed, but gave us some good insight into what we’ve been doing right. It also confirmed that we know our target audience well.”
“We just aren’t reaching new customers. Our Quest members have an overall satisfaction rating of 98%, but only 65% of them would recommend us to their friends or family.” Tripp handed over a printout with the survey results.
“Did you dig into why there’s a discrepancy?” I asked.
“We have some assumptions,” Tripp replied.
“Let me guess, the average, non-thrill-seeking consumer doesn’t find the website or social media approachable. They take one look at the extreme activities and nope out before they get a chance to dig any deeper. So, if someone’s family members or friends are like me, they know there is no chance they’d be interested?”
“Something like that.” Tripp rubbed his hand over his bearded chin. “Which is where you all come in. We completely understand our core audience, but to continue to grow, we need to reach more people.”
“Right. And we have some thoughts on that,” I said. “Aside from the social media campaign we’ll discuss later, we’d like to share some insights from the research we conducted in preparing for the pitch.”
I let Ava take it from there. She was the analytical brain, and I provided the creative strategy. We worked well together in these settings. She could take the most boring data sets and work them into easy-to-understand and exciting charts and graphs. Tripp and Liam paid close attention as she unraveled the brilliance behind our plan. They were all in.
“Which leads me to the app,” Ava said as she finished going over the research. “Sadie?”
“Right, so as you know, we’ve had some insider access to the app during development.”
“Your brother?” Tripp asked. I couldn’t tell if he was amused or annoyed by our insider access to the app. His gaze locked on my face. I tried not to squirm under the intensity of his stare.
“Seth,” I said in confirmation. “As I mentioned before, he needed to test functionality against someone who might break the system. After we signed our contract, I pulled Seth into the campaign planning. We worked out a few different models to make the quiz and results more friendly to the risk-averse crowd.”
Liam interrupted. “I’m sorry, but I am still unclear on how targeting people who are nowhere near our target audience will help us grow?”
“Completely valid question,” I said, smiling, “why would someone like me want to take a quiz like this? Why would I even be looking at Take the Leap?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, Liam, would it make more sense if I told you that our research shows that while risk-averse people like me are not likely to sign up to go base jumping or to ride in a hot air balloon, they might be interested in something more tame like a calm, lake kayak excursion or even indoor rock climbing? Something less extreme but still adventurous? And if those people come to your website looking for those types of experiences, they don’t find them right away.”
Tripp nodded. “It looks like we don’t offer those experiences.” They did, but you had to really dig to find them, and they weren’t highlighted on their social media.
“And on the app, the quiz doesn’t consider any of those things. If my choices are parasailing or skydiving, I’m choosing none of the above. But, if I were offered indoor rock climbing or an escape room, I’d be more inclined to make that selection. It wouldn’t be an automatic yes, but I also wouldn’t reject the idea immediately.”
“Baby steps,” Ava chimed in.
“With the social campaign, we bring those opportunities to the forefront. We shift away from only showcasing the big scary stuff and sprinkle in the smaller but profitable excursions.”
“So, we start small and then build up to skydiving,” Tripp said. He glanced across the table and locked his gaze on me. His lips curved into a bright, wide smile. “Just how small are we talking?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know yet.”
“Bungee jumping?” Tripp suggested.
“Indoor?” I asked.
Liam laughed. “No one wants to watch someone bungee jump indoors. We have a great spot over Percy Priest Lake. It’s stunning at night.”
“So, when I said start small, your first thought is jumping off of a bridge in the dark?”
“Well, we only have five challenges to get you ready for the big finale.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me. I’ll worry about that one when it’s time to worry about it.”
I lied. I was already worrying about it. Last night, I’d had a nightmare that I was in my birthday suit, strapped to Tripp, and free-falling from a plane without a parachute. I woke up just before we hit the ground. So, I’ll most definitely be worrying about that particular challenge for the next several weeks. But they didn’t need to know that.
“But speaking of the five challenges,” I said, “I think we also need to add in some of the more approachable ones. Those would be part of the campaign but wouldn’t count towards the contractually required ones.”
Liam frowned. “Why would we do content on an escape room or something that doesn’t fit our current model?”
He was really focused on sticking to what they do and not adventuring outside their usual tricks. Almost like the opposite of me. “Because the goal is to attract new customers. The ones who look at the bungee jumping and immediately scroll or click off the site. We add in some lesser challenges to show the variety available.”
“I like that approach,” Tripp said. “Liam, I know we’re used to doing things one way, but we brought Sadie and Ava in to challenge us. And they’re right, we need new customers.” Tripp stood and walked toward the white board wall beside us. He handed me a dry-erase marker, and I stood to join him.
“Liam, what are some of the challenges you consider less extreme?” I asked, readying myself to write.
Liam shifted in his seat like he was trying to get comfortable. “Hmm. Well, we do a few hikes in the Smoky Mountains. Would you consider that more tame?”
Me? No, I wouldn’t, but this wasn’t completely about me. So, I wrote hiking on the board. “Tripp?”
He stood beside me and nodded as if deep in thought. The edges of his eyes crinkled. “Canoeing?”
“Good!” I said a bit too enthusiastically. I added it to the list and then added my own: bicycling. Under that, I added camping and ice fishing.
“Ice fishing?” Tripp asked with a small laugh. “That might require some traveling, but that’s a fun idea, and something I’ve never done before.”
Tripp and I started bouncing ideas off each other, and after fifteen minutes, we had a solid list pulled together. Liam and Ava, for the most part, sat back and watched us banter. Tripp never talked over me, no matter how many times I unintentionally interrupted him. I liked the way he leaned in to listen when I spoke up.
“Tripp,” Chloe said, popping her head in the door, “your next meeting is starting in two minutes.”
“Oh, right, I forgot about that, thanks,” he said. I handed him the marker and stepped back to admire our work.
“This is a good start,” Ava said. “You guys make a great team.”
“Now, we just need to figure out the other five challenges and narrow these down a bit. We could look at booking another meeting tomorrow or later this week?”
“Actually, Sadie, I think it would be best if we worked on these solo—just the two of us. We need to build rapport and trust if we’re going to push you out of your comfort zone,” Tripp said.
“That’s a good plan,” Ava said. I glanced at her quizzically, but she winked back. “Liam and I can start working through the details of the remainder of the campaign and pull together some storyboards.”
“Sure, that works for me.” Another lie. While Tripp’s smile and warm eyes made me feel all melty and comfortable, I knew that would not bode well for my goal of avoiding anything too scary or risky. I wasn’t sure I could say no to those eyes.