On the day of the meeting, J.J. arrived early and was already nursing an overpriced coffee when Katie Perfoy walked in. She was rail thin, and her dark hair was so shiny it looked like it was made of glass. It was razor cut, most likely with a compass and a microscope. It wassostraight. Her black bodycon dress looked painted on, and J.J. had to admire the bone structure on this woman. It was the polar opposite of her own short self.
J.J. stood up and offered a hand to shake. “Katie, from Kedren? Hi. I’m J.J.”
“Kah-tay, my name is Kah-tay.” Kah-tay did not shake hands but rather looked around and reluctantly sat down at the little two-top table J.J. had saved.
“Oh, okay, so sorry, that’s lovely.”
It was a lovely way to pronounce the name, J.J. admitted, but Kah-tay wrinkled her nose in J.J.’s direction. She was now holding the mispronunciation against J.J.
“I’ve only got ten minutes,” Kah-tay declared. “I’m meeting with La Folique salon at eleven, so you’ll have to make this quick.”
La Folique was in Ann Arbor. It was fancy, expensive, and snooty in J.J.’s estimation.
“Oh, sure, oh, uh, can I get you an espresso or water or ah, I hear they have wonderful pastries?”
“No, honestly, less than ten minutes now.”
So J.J. jumped right into her pitch. “We’d love to be the Michigan home of Kedren. I’ve used the products in my recent travels and just fell in love. I know that our clients will, too.”
“Your clients, tell me about them.”
“Well, we’re situated in a resort community, and it’s rapidly growing, a lot of vacationing people looking for a great salon experience. We want to offer high-quality service and skill, and of course, product, even though we’re a small town.”
“Hmm.”
J.J. pressed on. “The idea that we’d be the only salon, that’s just so incredible. We’d love to be a partner to Kedren to open the whole state up to how amazing the line is.”
J.J. had no idea if she could actually pull that off, with a combination of Shelly’s old client list and the handful of friends she’d bully into coming in. Still, she was swinging for the fences anyway.
“Well, you’ll need to get me numbers. I need demographics. And if you have any beauty influencers, that would be something.”
“Ah, influencers?”
“TikTok, Instagram?”
J.J. tried to look like she knew what Kah-tay was getting at, but she didn’t, not really.
“Ha, well, I’m usually just looking at cute kitties on there, but I’ll check that out to see if we have any in our area.”
“Hmm.”
J.J. decided to try dazzling the sales rep with her love of the Kedren product line. “I just want to say the blowout cream is amazing, and I know we’d do great things with it—and here, you can see not a flyaway on my head right now, thanks to the serum.”
“Your style, though, a shag? Really?”
J.J. touched her head and suddenly was concerned that she looked like she was rocking a bouffant or something. “I’m, uh, growing out my bangs.” This wasn’t true. J.J. liked her style—or did until Kah-tay pointed out that it might be out of date.
“I’m running late. You’ve got my email.”
“Sure, sure. How long would it take to get a product in if you decide to use our salon as your distribution partner?”
“It takes what it takes.”
“Sure, yes, of course.”
Kah-tay stood up and J.J. followed suit, quickly. In the process, she knocked the coffee she was drinking down the front of her formerly crisp white t-shirt.
“Oops, oh, ah, typical.” J.J. winced as the hot liquid moved from the t-shirt to her actual skin.
