“Bingo, give the man a first-place ribbon.” Aubrey playfully slapped Kyle on the shoulder again. This shoulder-slapping thing was becoming her go to move with him. It allowed a shallow form of intimacy without swerving anywhere too dangerous.
“Okay, but I still don’t see how any of this is really a problem. It sounds to me like you and your company just stumbled into one of the world’s all-time sweetheart deals.”
Aubrey tried again. “The problem is Mr. Clarke.”
“First grade, Aubrey. I’m the private equity firm equivalent of a first grader. Spell… it… out.”
“Mr. Clarke stands to lose a ton of money from this deal, and I know he’s way to good of a businessman to ever make a deal that would lose him this much money.”
“So, you think, what… somebody’s forcing him to make this deal.” Kyle tried to fill in the blank following his ‘what’ with something insightful but that had been the best his brain could do off the cuff.
“Somebody, or something.” Aubrey replied.
Kyle exhaled deeply. A sign he was out of ideas. “So, what do we do?”
Aubrey looked at Kyle with perfect confidence radiating from her eyes. “We change his mind.”
Kyle, who felt he had been following along nicely for seven or eight straight sentences, found himself lost again. “You mean change his mind the way Victoria wants you to change his mind? You mean change his mind by getting him to sell you the company?”
“Nope. I mean the opposite. We’re going to convince Mr. Clarke to keep his company. At least until he gets a real offer.” Aubrey looked satisfied.
Kyle looked confused. “Won’t you lose your job?”
“Yep.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“Nope.”
Kyle whistled his appreciation for the piece of work sitting in the seat beside him. “Leave it to Aubrey Wilson to try and change the world on Christmas.”
Aubrey unplugged her laptop from the truck’s console and plugged in Kyle’s Christmas lights. “Well, you know what they say?”
“What do they say. And don’t forget to break it down for me like I’m a first grader.”
Aubrey smiled again. “It’s the most wonderful time of the year.”
Chapter Ten
Aubrey and Kyle rode along in silence. One of the best indicators of compatibility between people is their ability to enjoy the other person’s quiet. In this metric as well, Aubrey and Kyle exceeded the results of ordinary couples. Even if they weren’t yet, and might not ever be again, an actual couple.
It occurred to Aubrey there was one other thing she and Kyle hadn’t talked about. The time had come to remedy that, “I’ve got something for you, Kyle.”
“Fire away.” Kyle said with more confidence than he would have shown had he known what Aubrey was about to ask.
“Name one thing you’re doing for yourself this Christmas?” Aubrey fished for introspection on Kyle’s part.
Kyle deflected by acting like he didn’t understand. “What do you mean?”
Aubrey frowned. She knew he knew what she meant. “Which word was it in the sentence you didn’t understand.”
Kyle nodded. It was time to come up with something to throw her off the scent. His mind drew an epic blank. “Oh Aubrey, I do some things for myself.” Ambiguous denial was the best card he had to play.
Aubrey wouldn’t take ambiguity for an answer. “Okay. I’m asking you to name one of them.”
Silence spilled from Kyle in gallons. Since she put him on the spot, he couldn’t think of a single thing. “I mean… I don’t know…there’s a football game on this Sunday I’ll probably watch.”
“I knew it.” Aubrey gloated.
“Knew what?”
“You haven’t changed. You still do everything for everyone else and you never take time for yourself.”
Kyle processed the criticism. “I don’t think that’s true.”
“Really? You couldn’t even name one thing you were doing for yourself this Christmas.” Aubrey felt like she had scored the point that gave her the game, the set, and the match.
Of course, Kyle had this obnoxious way of being so likeable, that hard-won victory was short lived. “I like to make other people happy. That is the thing I do for myself.”
Aubrey wouldn’t cede ground on this issue. It was time he admitted this problem he had dealing with people before his entire life passed him by. “You know what my dad would say to that?” When Kyle didn’t answer, Aubrey ploughed ahead. “You can’t make anyone else happy if you aren’t happy yourself.”
Kyle admitted it was sound advice. The fact that combining the source, with the advice, led to a flood of irony wasn’t lost on Kyle. However, it wasn’t time for that discussion, so Kyle offered meek acceptance instead. “I wouldn’t argue with that.”
“Kyle?” Aubrey felt the urge to penetrate his armor if it was the last thing she did.
“What?”
Aubrey cut through all the usual pleasantries and served Kyle a dish of scalding truth. “You’re shutting down, closing up, hiding away inside yourself. Whatever name you want to give it I’ll grant you, as long as you realize your obsessive caring for others is just another way to keep anyone from caring for you.”
“Ouch, Aubrey.” Kyle meant it. That was painful.
Aubrey was firm in her righteousness. “The truth hurts.”
“When it comes from you, it sure does.” Kyle replied.
Aubrey backed off. She may have pressed too hard on this flaw in Kyle. It suddenly seemed to her like she was giving him a hard time for being the kind of person most people could never hope to be. There was also another fact gnawing at her conscience. It was personified by her father and his ‘pot calling the kettle black’ pithiness. “You know. I really don’t have much room to talk, do I?”
While Aubrey lapsed into introspection, Kyle pulled up in front of the Marion location for Clarke’s Department Stores. He shifted his truck into park and waited to see what else Aubrey wanted to say before shutting the engine off.
“I’m sorry, Kyle. I feel bad now. I didn’t mean to pick on you. You’ve been a true angel to me and my family this Christmas. If I can excuse myself, that’s probably why I said what I said. You’re so wonderful, it almost seems unfair that you don’t have someone to share the beauty you make in this world. I guess, in a few words, what I’m trying to say is you’re too good to be true.” Aubrey looked at Kyle to show him she was sorry for being so harsh. “It’s a horrible thing to disparage someone for being better than everyone else.” When Aubrey finished, a ripe silence hung in the air. Aubrey had to diffuse the tension. She whacked Kyle on the shoulder again. She was using her new go to move to signal to both of them things had gotten too serious.
“I’d say the same thing about you, Aubrey. At least, that part about being too good to be true.”
“Please do. Guys have no idea how much a woman wants to hear she’s too good to be true.” Aubrey smiled at Kyle. “I don’t want you to say it again, by the way. At least, not right now after I just told you to say it.” Aubrey looked into the department store which was their reason for being in Marion. “You ready to do this?”
“I’m right behind you.” Aubrey went to open her door when Kyle stopped her. “Aubrey?”
“Yes?” Aubrey asked.
Kyle needed to make a point before the Mr. Clarke of Clarke’s Department Store fame stole Aubrey’s attention for the next several hours. “I am doing one thing for myself this Christmas.”
“What is that?”
“Until you leave, I’m spending every minute I can with you.”
Aubrey’s heart melted like an ice-cream cone on a cloudless midday summer sidewalk in Timberville, Virginia. “Too good to be true. You see what I am saying?” Aubrey opened her door and hurried toward the sliding glass before he could say anything else to make her heart pour.
A couple of moments later Aubrey and Kyle reunited just inside the autom
atic door entranceway. Aubrey pulled Kyle off to the right where the tiny shopping carts were stacked together. She wanted to make a game plan with Kyle while they were standing outside the strong flow of customers in and out of the store.
Aubrey looked up at Kyle. “Don’t think about it, just tell me what you see?”
Kyle took in the store. Everywhere he looked he saw Christmas. Christmas trees, Christmas wreaths, Christmas lights, tinsel, silver bells, reindeer, and Mr. and Mrs. Clauses anywhere from one, to four, feet tall. The store looked like it could be a workshop at The North Pole. Kyle knew, for once, the specific answer Aubrey wanted. He summed it up in one word. “Christmas.”
“Exactly. That’s what makes Clarke’s special. Every other retailer is going for this great homogenization. They think saying Merry Christmas and putting up a bunch of blinking lights is going to drive customers away.” Aubrey indicated all the people waiting to be checked out at registers. She pointed to those who were patiently waiting in line for an open fitting room. “Does it look to you like this place is having a hard time finding customers?”
As Aubrey spoke, a crowd of well-dressed men and women approached. Most carried pens and legal pads. Some were furiously taking notes. In the center of the group stood a tall distinguished man knocking hard on his eightieth year. Although, he was in such good shape, he could pass for sixty-five to anyone who didn’t know better.
He was Aubrey’s, Mr. Clarke. He wore a respectable well-cut suit. Of course, it wasn’t Louis Vuitton or some other ostentatious, designer brand name. He could afford to wear those clothes but chose not to. Several decades ago, there had been a moment in his career after which Mr. Clarke earned more money than a fiscally responsible person could ever hope to spend in one lifetime. He decided then, and never swerved from that decision, he would never wear anything he couldn’t buy in one of his own stores. After all, how could he understand his customers if he couldn’t walk a mile in a pair of their shoes. Today, he also happened to be wearing the same ‘Merry Christmas’ tie Kyle wore.
Aubrey pulled Kyle closer to her. “Oh, there he is. That’s Mr. Clarke. His sales floor store walks are legendary. Let’s sneak up behind him and see what he’s talking about.”
As they meandered closer to the group, Aubrey and Kyle tried to maintain their anonymity by pretending they were a couple shopping for Christmas gifts. Of course, they pulled off the being a couple part of the charade with flying colors. The shopping for Christmas gifts part would have failed serious scrutiny. They could only hope Mr. Clarke and the members of his corporate visit team were too involved in their deep dive into this store’s financials to notice.
Aubrey and Kyle zeroed in on their target while he was distracted by his Store Manager’s introduction of Cheryl. Cheryl, it turned out, was the women’s moderate clothing department manager in this Clarke’s store. Cheryl was young, pretty, and professionally dressed. She had her notes for her part in this walk with Mr. Clarke clutched in her hands as though they were a life preserver and she were neck deep in a boundless body of water. Anyone who saw Cheryl would have guessed she was in trouble. Her body tremored and her face blanched. In short, Cheryl was battling a severe case of stage fright. The moment appeared too big for her.
The Store Manager summed up her introduction, “Mr. Clarke, as you know, back in September of this year we promoted Cheryl Jackson from the merchandising team to Department Manager for all of moderate sportswear. I’m proud to report that since the promotion the department is up six percent.”
Everyone in the circle gave a rousing round of applause to Cheryl for her efforts. The applause was the loudest, and most sincere, coming from Mr. Clarke. “Outstanding. That is simply outstanding,” he said.
Since Cheryl missed her rehearsed cue, the Store Manager jumped in again to try and help. “Take it away, Cheryl!”
Nothing from Cheryl.
She was frozen.
Solid.
The spotlight was too bright for her.
Except this was Christmas, and Mr. Clarke was not about to let a case of nerves derail this woman’s entire holiday. He knew if he didn’t rescue her, that’s exactly how she would remember today. It would go down in her history as the Christmas she froze up in front of the owner of the company. Mr. Clarke darted from the center of the circle over to Cheryl and took her by the hand. He led her several dozen feet away from the group so they could speak in privacy.
“What’s wrong my dear?” Mr. Clarke asked.
Cheryl barely got the words out. “I… I’m… ner…vous.”
“Good heavens, why is that?” Mr. Clarke wanted to know.
“Because you… you’re the Mr. Clarke.” Cheryl answered.
Mr. Clarke laughed. This response quieted Cheryl’s nerves by half. He surveyed all the customers in his store. “Do you see anybody lining up asking for my autograph?”
“Well,” Cheryl followed Mr. Clarke’s gaze around the store, “I guess not.”
Mr. Clarke tried again, “How about the paparazzi? Are there any people with camera’s trying to get a shot of me with some minor reality TV show celebrity?”
Cheryl laughed at the ridiculousness of Mr. Clarke being photographed by the paparazzi. She had to admit it. “No, there aren’t.”
Mr. Clarke continued in this same nerve-quieting vein. “Now, let me tell you something I believe with all my heart. I am the one who should be nervous. Do you know why that is?”
Cheryl shook her head, “no.”
“Because I am standing in front of the Cheryl Jackson.” Mr. Clarke explained. “The person who single-handedly inspired her team to increase sales six percent during the fourth quarter of an extremely competitive Christmas season. So, you see, I wasn’t joking. I am the one, of the two of us, who has something to be nervous about.”
Cheryl looked at Mr. Clarke with pure thanks in her eyes. If anyone who wrote books on leadership had been there in that moment, they would have had a story they could use as the launchpad to a bestseller. Mr. Clarke just demonstrated why his company increased sales year after year when so many other companies were subject to the whims of the consumer. Mr. Clarke took such good care of his people that his people, in turn, took good care of him.
“What do you say we go back and join the group?”
Cheryl nodded, “Okay.”
“I want you to really knock their socks off. Can you do that for me?” Mr. Clarke turned back toward the circle. He led Cheryl closer to the other people dressed in business suits.
“Thank you, Mr. Clarke.” Cheryl managed to get it out before they were back with the group. The owner of the company had taken a personal interest in her when a few months ago she had been on the dock unloading trucks. Cheryl crossed her fingers the rumors weren’t true. Working at Clarke’s was the best job she ever had. The only one that offered her the opportunity to use her brain. She hoped Mr. Clarke wasn’t going to sell his company.
“Thank you, Ms. Jackson. The only reason my little chain of stores is worth anything at all is because of you.” At that moment, Cheryl and Mr. Clarke reentered the circle. Mr. Clarke released her hand allowing her to stand at the apex. He then introduced her again in order to make the transition as seamless as possible. “How in the world did you do it, Cheryl? How in the world did you increase sales by six percent when the division is struggling to scrape out a paltry two percent increase?”
Cheryl, whose nerves were stilled, launched into her prepared presentation about how she ‘focused on drawing customer’s eyes into her department by creating dynamic outfits’. She grew more confident as she worked through her material. By the end, she had abandoned her notes on a table of folded denim. She spoke from her heart. The passion she felt for her job was as undeniable as her skill in doing that job well.
By the time she finished, Mr. Clarke tasked Michael, the Regional Vice President Victoria mentioned on the phone with Aubrey as her covert source within the Clarke organization, with emulating Cheryl’s concepts within
this store throughout the company. He even asked Cheryl if she would be willing to accompany Michael on a few of his visits so the new program could be implemented by someone who understood it on a phonetic level.
Aubrey and Kyle watched from the table of folded denim where Cheryl left her notes. Mr. Clarke’s performance with Cheryl amazed Aubrey. She wanted Kyle to share in this amazement. “If something like that happened at one of the nation-wide retail chains, Cheryl would have set her career back five years. And look at what he’s done. He basically just gave her a promotion.”
By surreptitiously following the group, Aubrey and Kyle kept up their surveillance of Mr. Clarke all the way around his store. They watched as he engaged his employees as well as his customers. Aubrey’s respect for the man, whose company she’d wanted to plunder three days ago, skyrocketed during the time she spent following him. She was even more sure now she had been right in the car when she changed her mind.
She would meet with Mr. Clarke, just like Victoria asked her to do. However, she wouldn’t be trying to get him to sell her his company. Instead, she would present him a few ideas on how he could improve his sales over the next three years. After the three years passed, if he still wanted to sell, he could get the full value out of his family’s business. He would also be able to protect the jobs of his employees thus creating a win-win which would be hard for Mr. Clarke to resist.
Mr. Clarke and his team stood by the front door giving hugs and shaking hands. Everyone agreed this visit had been a rousing success, especially given the exciting contributions derived from Cheryl’s merchandising presentation. Aubrey picked this moment to approach.
“Mr. Clarke.”
Mr. Clarke recognized the voice but couldn’t place it because the context was wrong. He turned to face Aubrey. No one would have blamed Mr. Clarke if he appeared angry, or otherwise been bent out of shape, upon seeing Aubrey—one of the principle people who were trying to get rich by eating his company. On the contrary, Mr. Clarke’s face lit up when he saw her. His voice filled with genuine warmth as he greeted her. “Aubrey Wilson, how many times have I told you to call me Tim?” Mr. Clarke extended both his hands and gave Aubrey a healthy handshake. When that wasn’t good enough for him, he enveloped her in a fatherly hug. “What are you doing here?”
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