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“Hmm. Tell me more.”
“He has a monopoly on the safest sea routes between Indonesia and Mozambique. I’m currently moving containers between Asia and South Africa, but they have to go via France. If I can get direct access to Mozambique, I can transport them from Maputo to Johannesburg via road. It’s little over five hundred kilometers.”
She tilts her head. “What’s in it for you?”
“Lower transport and insurance costs, safer routes with less product losses due to theft or accidents, shorter delivery times, less import red tape, and guaranteed availability of the products to my clients on the stipulated dates. In short, it’ll be cheaper with less hassles while enhancing my brand image and reliability.”
Resting her chin on her hand, she scrutinizes me. “What kind of products are we talking about?”
“Silk and spices. Nothing illegal.”
Her expression is doubtful. She drinks again before asking, “What’s in it for him?”
“Money.” Taking the bottle, I top up her wine. “Lots of money.”
“From what you told me, it sounds as if money isn’t his main motivation. He’s got enough of that. He’ll want other benefits.”
“Such as?”
“Prestige. Power by association.”
“What do you suggest?”
She crosses her arms, balancing her glass in one hand. “What are his interests?”
“Golf and yachting.”
“Do you play?”
“Golf?” I shake my head. “I’ve never had the patience.”
“Then that leaves you with yachting.”
“Yachting,” I parrot.
“You have a big boat, don’t you?” she says, arching an eyebrow. “Big enough to impress him.”
“Are you suggesting I invite him for a party on my yacht?”
“Where is he from?”
“He’s from Welsh origin. He currently lives in London.”
“Well, then you can invite him for a cruise along the beautiful shores of Corsica and demonstrate how cultured you are with a five-course, sit-down meal. You can compare sizes—in boats, of course—or whatever it is you men like to compare. Horsepower and engines and all that stuff that’s meant to prove what macho guys you are.”
“You reckon?” I ask with a grin. I have no idea why she’s helping me, if it’s the wine or the fact that her opinion matters to me. Whatever compels her to play along, I’m enjoying this exchange.
“Absolutely.” She bats her eyelashes. “And you should let him have the biggest boat and the strongest engine, even if it isn’t true.”
“What?” I say with a growl. “Do you expect me to lie about the horsepower of my engine?”
“Yep.” Her smile is a little too sweet. “It’s going to hurt, but you’ll survive.”
“I know for a fact my yacht is worth three times the price of his.”
“Then don’t mention the price. If material gain isn’t his biggest motivation and he’s from an older school of upbringing, he may find the topic of money vulgar. He probably didn’t buy the biggest and most expensive yacht because those aren’t the criteria that count in his book. Maybe his yacht was designed by a prestigious engineer, or he preferred to go greener and use less fuel. Instead of pointing out how his yacht falls short compared to yours, praise his boat for its positive features. Focus on how it has more character than yours or how it’s prettier than the Sea Hawk.” Her smile stretches wider. “You get the point.”
I can only stare at her for a moment. “Are you serious?”
