Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Bella
Simon put me in the conference room so I could gather a few things before the meeting started.
“You’ve already got your pumpkin fix. Let my secretary know if you need anything else,” he said.
The conference room door opened, and William walked in. “There you are. I was looking for you. Bella? What are you doing here?”
“Apparently, I’m here to tell your people they don’t know what the hell they’re doing.”
“What?” His brows furrowed.
“Let’s go to my office, Dad, and I’ll explain,” Simon said.
They left the conference room, and I sat down.
I had two hours to execute a plan. A really good fucking plan.
I jotted down my ideas and then turned them into a PowerPoint presentation.
Glancing at my watch, the meeting was starting in fifteen minutes.
I stood up and paced around the room, trying to calm my nerves.
The door opened, and people started to filter in, each of them staring at me and wondering what the hell was going on. Simon and his father walked in, and my nerves lessened a little. William walked over and kissed my cheek.
“Your ideas are exactly the right direction we need. I can’t wait to hear more.” He smiled and took his seat.
Once everyone was seated, Simon introduced me.
“I would like all of you to meet Bella Castle. She will be consulting today on Montclair Tribeca. We’ve done a lot and spent way more money than we should have, and nothing is working.
We are sitting on fifty, possibly fifty-two, unsold units that should have been sold by now.
I brought Bella in today because she sees something we all missed. Go ahead, Bella.”
I inhaled a breath as I stood at the head of the table with my laptop connected to the large screen behind me, and tried not to think about the fact that twenty people were staring at me from marketing, sales, digital, and public relations.
Then there was me. The social media content consultant Simon brought in to tell them why their multimillion-dollar development wasn’t selling.
Good morning, everyone.” I smiled and clicked the remote in my hand. The first slide appeared.
“MONTCLAIR TRIBECA. Exclusive. Luxurious. Refined. That is nice, but it’s not what we want.
” I clicked the remote to the updated version.
MONTCLAIR TRIBECA. Beautiful. Luxurious.
Unforgettable.” I clicked to the next slide where several images from the existing campaign filled the screen.
“You have a beautiful building. The residences are incredible. The views are incredible. The amenities are incredible. Everything about Montclair Tribeca looks expensive and sophisticated. But if I have twenty million to spend, I wouldn’t buy there. ”
Gasps filled the room, and all eyes were on me and then on Simon. I glanced at him and winked at me. One woman held up her hand.
“Yes,” I pointed.
“Can I ask why?”
“Because nothing you’re showing me makes me want to live there.”
“Can you elaborate on that?” one of the gentlemen asked.
I clicked the remote and brought up their current campaign. “We have the exterior, lobby, kitchen, living room, bedrooms, bathrooms, rooftop, residents’ lounge, and pool. What did that video just tell me if it even held my interest long enough to keep watching?”
No one offered an answer. They all just sat there, shooting daggers at me with their eyes.
“I’ll tell you what the video tells me. That the building has beautiful apartments with beautiful kitchens and beautiful views. And I would expect all those things if I were spending millions of dollars on a home.”
“Our buyers expect a certain level of finish,” one of the men said.
“Exactly. Which means the finishes aren’t what separates you anymore.”
I clicked to the next slide I created.
STOP SELLING THE PROPERTY.
START SELLING LIFE.
“Your buyers already have the money. They already have the expensive things. I’d say that ninety-nine percent of them already own beautiful homes.”
“Several of them,” Simon said.
“Exactly. So another marble countertop isn’t exciting to them,” I said.
“I don’t think you understand something.” One of the women crossed her arms. “Luxury buyers still expect to see the finishes.”
“Absolutely. I do know that. I’m not suggesting you stop showing them.
I’m suggesting they stop being the entire story.
” I clicked to the next slide. The screen changed to an image I’d mocked up of the Tribeca penthouse at sunrise.
“This is what I want to sell. Not the sofa, windows, or coffee table. I want to sell what it feels like to wake up here.” I clicked to the next slide.
It was of a woman standing barefoot near the windows with a coffee cup in her hand, and the morning light filling the room and over the city.
“It’s seven in the morning. The city is waking up.
She’s drinking coffee in her new luxury home with a smile before her hectic day starts.
” I clicked to the next slide of a man stepping from the private elevator into the penthouse, loosening his tie.
“Now it’s seven at night. He’s been in meetings all day.
He’s exhausted. But when the elevator door opens, and he steps into the foyer, and smiles because he’s home.
” I clicked to the next slide. “Now it’s Friday night, and friends are gathered around the kitchen island with wine and food.
They’re talking, laughing, and having a good time.
You want to sell the life before the purchase.
You want to make people feel like they have to live there and no other place is acceptable, only Montclair Tribeca.
You’re not just showing people luxury apartments anymore. You’re showing them living in it.”
“That’s my girl,” William shouted, and Simon shot him a look.
“Right now, your content says, ‘Look what we built.’ But what it really should be saying is, ‘Look at the life you can have.’” I glanced at Simon, and he smiled.
“Moving on to the next part. You’re barely using Tribeca itself.
You have a couple of pictures that really don’t do the area justice.
We need restaurants, close-ups of cobblestone streets, coffee shops, galleries, nightlife, and the waterfront.
People aren’t buying four thousand square feet above Manhattan.
They’re choosing where they’re going to live, and that’s just as important.
Why Tribeca? That’s what your content needs to answer. ” I clicked to the next slide.
THE BUILDING IS ONLY HALF THE STORY.
“You should be showing people what Saturday mornings look like when they walk out the front door. Where do they go for coffee? What options do they have for dinner? Where do they meet friends for drinks? Where do they work out? Where do they take their dog?”
“The dog?” Simon’s brow raised.
“Rich people have dogs, Simon.”
“She got you there.” William laughed.
“I’d create an entire neighborhood series. Not advertisements. Make content people actually want to watch. Make them your friends and family by showing content about the people behind the building of the property.”
“What do you mean?” one woman asked.
“Your architects, interior designers, custom workers. Interview them. Not long, boring interviews. Have them tell you why the kitchen is laid out like it is, or why you chose those specific cabinets. Tell people something about the Montclair residences most buyers would never notice. Talk to them like they’re your best friends.
Make them feel like part of the Montclair family.
And one more thing. Stop saying the word ‘exclusive’ so much.
You don’t need to tell buyers why it’s exclusive. You need to show them why it is.”
Everyone started talking among themselves. They seemed to really like the idea, except for one person, a man sitting across from Simon, three seats over.
“I’m not buying any of this. We’ve done our marketing the same way for like ever.
Sweetheart, I hate to disappoint you, but you have no idea what you’re talking about.
You can’t force people to buy what they don’t want to.
The economy isn’t the greatest right now.
That’s why nobody is buying. And you’re nothing but delusional if you think your stupid ideas are going to change that. ”
Simon stood up and slammed his fists on the table. “Greg, you’re fucking fired. Pack your office. Security will escort you out.”
“Are you serious, Simon? What the fuck? William?” He looked at him.
“I stand by my son’s decision, Greg. Get the fuck out of here.”
“This is bullshit.” He shook his head and stormed out of the conference room.
“I’m sorry, Bella. Ignore him,” Simon said.
“I already have.” I smiled.
“Does anyone else here have a problem with Bella’s ideas?” Simon asked in a firm voice.
They all shook their heads.
“Good. The meeting is over. You may all return to your offices.”
I took a deep breath. For the first time in my life, I felt powerful.