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“Thank you. Coming from a harsh critic like yourself, I guess that’s a good start to my day.”
“One of Rex Harrington’s?” Charlene asks, dropping her bagel on her desk.
“Nah, I decided to cheat on Rex. It’s a Christopher Thompson. At least I kept it American. I was tempted to go Italian today, but changed my mind at the last minute.” I grin from ear to ear.
“It’s good that you’re dressed for success, because you’re going to have the day from hell... or from heaven. I guess it really depends on how good you are at closing tough clients.” She winks. Little witch. She knows I’m the best. She ignores my indignant glare and continues. “I was able to confirm all of the meetings with potential clients for you. We have zero cancellations and they’re all looking forward to meeting you.”
Charlene sits at a desk located near the entrance. Although there’s absolutely no need for us to have a receptionist, she insists on being the watchdog for that office. Secretly, I suspect it’s because she’d die if she wasn’t tapped into everything that happens around here.
“You’re the best.”
“Haven’t I always been? Isn’t that why you brought me back?” she says, looking at me from under her glasses.
Although the plan was for me to come out to LA for four weeks to meet with prospective clients and connect with a string of restaurateurs who’ve already committed to making us their exclusive purveyor of quality natural meats, Jake and I decided a few months ago to establish an office out here in order to house a small, but mighty, team of hungry salespeople and extremely competent admin support staff. We hired four superstars—Sam Louviere, Jenny Zall, Vanessa Tornadino and Bernard Hastings. Don’t let their youth fool you. These four are so skilled they could sell snow to Eskimos in their sleep.
We also brought back Charlene Jones and Davina Edwards. Both ladies worked for us during our heydays with our dotcom company. Six years ago, my best friend and I sold Alaric Innovations to Tyrion Tech. The giant with deep pockets changed our lives overnight when they were willing to fork out over three point eight billion dollars to acquire the exclusive rights to the technology Jake and I spent years perfecting.
Of course, Charlene and Davina moved on after we sold our company, but they kept in touch with both Jake and I. Even though we left Cali, both ladies religiously sent us well-wishing cards on Thanksgiving and Christmas. When it came time to hire for this new LA office, the choices were obvious. Timing was on our side since Charlene had just gotten laid off from another position and Davina absolutely loathed the job she had. Both ladies had proven themselves before with us and we were confident that they would do it again.
Charlene has already done us proud. She’s the superstar who scouted this office for us in one of the business towers in the Century City neighborhood. Although we’re a miniscule team, I wanted everyone to have their own individual workspace. Nothing stifles creativity more than being crammed one on top of each other. It’s true that our current office is a tiny fraction of the space we used to occupy in Silicon Valley when we still owned our dotcom company, but our current headquarters is well located to allow us to get to all of our important clients. There are a lot of head offices in this area, including the supply and merchandise office for Food Network.
“Are we still on as well for Food Network?” I ask, ignoring her cockiness.
Since Riley secured the meeting for me, I must’ve asked Charlene to confirm three times. This is so important and they’re such a huge organization, I’d hate to fall between the cracks by accident. I’m not usually this hands-on or obsessed about a meeting with a potential client since Charlene and the sales team are ace at that, but we are talking about Food Network after all.
“We certainly are. They even FedExed a huge envelope for you stuffed with papers containing all sorts of legal gibberish. The courier barely dropped the parcel before one of the assistants to the director of supply and acquisition called to confirm I had received it and also to make sure I bring it to your attention the second you walk in.”
“Wow. More documents to sign?”
“Tell me about it.”
“Did you put them on my desk?”
Charlene shakes her head. “I gave the package to Davina. You know how she likes that boring legalese stuff. She’s been going over it with meticulous attention for the past hour to make sure she has everything prepared for you.”
The closer this meeting is approaching, the more I realize how big a deal this is for us. “I’m really happy I had a good night’s sleep and that I chilled out all day yesterday.”
“Really?” Charlene asks with a twinkle in her eyes before lowering her gaze, laced with fake innocence, and blowing the steam away from her piping-hot cup of coffee.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
“Oh, I think we both know what I mean.” She waggles her eyebrows, amused. “No dates last night—or this morning for that matter—for the great Hunter James Evans? Or did you have to kick her out of your bed before the crack of dawn?”
“You know what?” I start, taking a few steps towards her desk while waving my index finger at her. “If you weren’t so good at your job, I’d fire your ass right now for being so much of a know-it-all.”
We both laugh.
Charlene is very perspicacious, partially because my reputation precedes me and also because she has three sons—Richard, who’s thirty-four, Jonathan, who’s thirty-two, and Keith, who’s my age. They’re all single men and they make no excuses for their appetite for women. I’ve met them at different company functions Jake and I organized in the past for our former employees and let’s just say that they must’ve been a handful for Charlene as a mom while her boys were growing up.
“Okay, I might have stepped outside of my boundaries, boss.”
The only reason she’s putting so much emphasis on the word ‘boss’ is because she knows darn well she can get away with it.
“That’s the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard in my life,” I huff. “Let me go back to my office before I change my mind about firing you.” I wink at her.
“Ouch. I’ll try to keep my mouth shut from now on.”
“How many times have I heard that before? Promises, promises... it’ll be a cold day in hell before you’re able to keep your opinions to yourself, Charlene.”
“What can I say? Once a mom, always a mom,” she retorts.
“I’m going to start my day now and try to forget about your meddling ways.”
“But you know you love me,” she shouts as I pass her desk.
“Whatever.” I shake my head without turning back to look at her.
I walk to my office with Charlene’s words still ringing in my ears, realizing how much I’m looking forward to seeing Miranda later tonight.
