by Ramsey Isler
“Call it executive privilege,” Sam said.
“I don’t like not knowing where my product is coming from,” Hamilton said.
“I understand...but trust me. I’m not doing anything illegal or immoral. My contractor just insisted on doing the work anonymously. It was the only way I could get this deal, and we are getting a deal. There’s no other place we could go to get these devices built this cheaply.”
Hamilton crossed his arms and gnashed his teeth a little before he spoke again. “I’ll let it slide, for now,” he said, “but we’re going to have to change this arrangement when we start going national. We can’t afford any internal secrets then. The stakes will be too high.”
“Understood,” Sam said, with a smile that she hoped would disguise her apprehension. “I trust everyone has reviewed the task list and schedules I prepared?”
“Yes,” Hamilton said, “it looks very thorough.”
“Glad you think so,” Sam said. “We’ll have to keep everything tight to pull this off. It’s going to take a lot of work.”
“We’re all up for it,” Yusef added. “When are we getting the new units?”
“Soon,” Sam answered. “We’re on schedule for three new ones by the end of the week.”
“Do we have clients lined up?” Jess asked.
“I have a few aficionados that took a look at the first models Sam built,” Hamilton said. “They’re going to be our first buyers, so we’ve got our first three sales already. The rest will require something more than word of mouth. I’ve got some ideas for marketing, which I shared with you all via email prior to this meeting.”
“Yeah,” Jess said. “About that. No offense, but I think we might want to try something different.”
“Like what?” Hamilton asked.
“Your message was all old-school, ad man stuff,” Jess said. “We need to get out into the mobile markets, take advantage of social media, go viral.”
“I see,” Hamilton said. “Well, by all means, Madame CMO. Do whatever you think is best. I was just trying to provide a guideline.”
“And it is greatly appreciated,” Jessica said. “Every little bit helps. And I still think your idea for the party is a great one. We should definitely do that.”
“I’ll set it up,” Hamilton said with a weak smile. “In the meantime, I’ve taken the liberty of leasing some office space at the MacPherson building in downtown Birmingham. It’s quite a bit more spacious and modern than these...accommodations.”
“Huh,” Sam said. “I didn’t know that. Why are you just now telling me?”
“Executive privilege,” Hamilton said.
“The MacPherson building is beautiful,” Jess said before Sam could retort. “How much space do we have?”
“Half a floor,” Hamilton said. “It’s a lot of space, but it gives us storage capability and room to grow. The owner is an old friend of mine so the rate is pretty reasonable. I have us scheduled to move in next week. Is that okay with you, Sam?”
Sam didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes shifted to the faces of the people around the table, looking for something the others couldn’t understand. Finally, she said, “Thank you for your efforts. Any other business?”
Yusef spoke next. “I need to get inventory and shipping systems set up. When am I going to know our volume expectations?”
“Not sure yet,” Sam said. “Focus on other stuff like getting the online sales system set up. Jessica will work with you on the visual design and marketing, but I’m looking to you to keep her spending reasonable.”
“Not a problem,” Yusef said happily. Jessica shot him a sidelong glare.
“Any other business you guys want to talk about?” Sam asked.
“I’m good,” Yusef said as he stood. “I’ve got a lot of work to get to, so I’ll see you guys later.”
“I should also be on my way,” Hamilton said as he got up to walk to the door. “I’ll leave you all to your...work.” He left, and Yusef followed.
“I still say he’s going to be trouble,” Jess said when Hamilton was gone.
“He is annoying,” Sam said, “but he’s useful. We just need to look past the small stuff. It’ll be fine.”
“You keep saying that,” Jess said.
“I keep believing it,” Sam said, “So...what exactly are our next steps for marketing?”
“The first step of marketing is to have a good product to market,” Jess said. “We have that covered. Now it’s time to spread the word.”
“Okay,” Sam said. “What do you suggest?”
“Giveaways,” Jess said. “Let’s have a social media contest or sweepstakes to give away three watches. Each watch is worth a small fortune, and they’re a whole new category on the market. The Internet will go crazy for them. Plant the seed, and the masses will do your marketing for you.”
“I don’t know,” Sam said. “You’re talking about giving away thousands of dollars worth of merchandise before we’ve even made our first online sale.”
“Don’t underestimate the power of free,” Jess said. “Trust me, a few thousand now will get you a million dollars worth of exposure if this campaign is executed well. And of course it will be, since I’m in charge.”
Sam let out a deep breath. “Fine.”
“Cool,” Jess said. “I’ll get some bloggers to participate. I just need a budget for building the web app and some Facebook stuff.”
“You have access to the company account,” Sam said. “Go make it happen.”
“Really?” Jess said as a wicked grin appeared. “It’s that easy? You’re not afraid I’ll use it for a shopping trip on the company dime? I think a new Louis Vuitton bag is a requirement for me to do business with our high-class customers.”
“I trust you,” Sam said.
“Good,” Jess said. “At least I know you can trust me with something.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam asked.
“What’s up with this secret production facility? We’ve been friends for a long time, Sam.”
“I promise it’s nothing personal,” Sam said. “I do trust you. But the stakes are really high here and I need to keep this under tight wraps for now. Okay?”
“Okay,” Jess said as she gathered her things. “I guess I better get to work spending other people’s money.”
“It’s what you do best,” Sam said.
* * *
Sam learned a long time ago to never underestimate Jessica’s abilities. But even she was surprised by the amazing success of Jess’s latest scheme. In just a few days, it seemed like she had the entire Internet talking about Better Timepieces. Even the major news networks were picking up the news about the giveaway. Sam spent the first part of her morning gleefully scanning all the articles and blog posts. But her fun couldn’t last all day since she had to move into her new office at the shiny MacPherson building.
The office complex was fresh construction and it still had “new building” smell. It was a gleaming specimen of modern architecture and Jess loved it. Sam, of course, despised it. But Hamilton’s connections made it cheap to rent, and the address brought a certain level of prestige with it. So Sam endured the discomfort she felt as she settled into her new corner office and set up her computer.
She was just unpacking a box of books when she heard a knock at her office door. She looked up and saw Hamilton there, dressed in shirt and tie as always. “Good morning,” he said.
“Yo,” Sam said. “What’s up?”
“I just came in for a little status update,” Hamilton said. “Miss Horner’s marketing plan seems to have paid off. There’s quite a lot of buzz about her campaign. I’ll never understand all that Internet magic that goes into marketing these days, but it does bring results.”
Sam nodded. “Jess is great. That’s why I hired her.”
“I’m sure,” Hamilton said. “However, we will need to follow up her new age methods with some old, tried and true tricks. Every sales person needs to put in face time with the clien
tele.”
“What are you getting at?” Sam asked.
“I’ve arranged for you to appear at a charity event,” Hamilton said. “The room will be full of millionaires and it’s a perfect place to pitch our timepieces. I’ve talked to a few of them about my involvement in the company, and some have already gotten their interest piqued by Miss Horner’s efforts. All we need is the great leader to seal the deals.”
“I’m not one for hobnobbing with rich people,” Sam said
“Sam, if all goes according to plan, you will be one of those rich people. You’ll have to get used to it.”
Sam sighed, then said, “How large of a group are we talking about?”
“Maybe a hundred people, and all of them obscenely rich. The group will be large enough to make an impact, but small enough to not be overwhelming.”
“Fine,” Sam said. “I’ll suck it up and deal with it.
“Excellent,” Hamilton said, smiling. “I’ll wear one of the Excelsior models from the prototype stock. You should pick a Victoria, and wear something nice to show it off. Preferably something sleeveless.”
“Like a wife-beater?”
Hamilton’s smile disappeared in an instant, and it was replaced by a stern glare that reminded Sam of her elementary school principal. “No,” he said. “This will be a black-tie affair.”
“Well you didn’t tell me that,” Sam said. “I hate dressing up even more than I hate brown-nosing with rich people.”
“Deal with it,” Hamilton said. “You’re an adult now. It’s time to start acting like it. Besides, a little class never hurt anybody.”
“Uh huh,” Sam said. “But do you know what will get somebody hurt around here?”
“What would that be?”
“Questioning my maturity,” Sam said. “I’ll give you a pass on this one since you still don’t know me that well. Do it again and we’re going to have a problem.”
“I think we may have one already,” Hamilton said.
“Not my fault,” Sam said. “Anyway, what time is this party of yours?”
“Next Thursday night at eight. I’ll send you a formal invitation. Don’t be late.”
“Of course not,” Sam said. “Time is my business.”
* * *
A week later, after another long-but-productive day at the office, Sam left work at sundown and went to take care of another, entirely different type of business. The frantic remodeling of her factory was complete, and tonight the elves would move operations out of her garage, and into their new workshop.
Sam arrived at the old furniture factory with no fanfare. It was dark, and the night was quiet. She stood outside of the building for a moment. Its exterior was still nondescript and boring, but the interior was a different world. As of tonight, this would be a place where magic happened.
Sam approached the building and stood at the security panel beside the main door. She’d spent a small fortune securing the facility in a way that was rock solid but still unnoticeable. There was even a secret emergency feature that would lock the doors and prevent them from being opened from the inside, just in case anyone ever tried to steal anything. Even the Kith didn’t know about it.
She entered the 8-digit security code and scanned her thumb print. The solid steel bolts that held the door shut slid out of place with a heavy clunk. She went inside and shielded her eyes from the sudden, intense light that spilled out. Her pupils soon adjusted and she could see everything in all its glory. The construction team she’d hired had done a fantastic job of cleaning out the place while keeping some of the old industrial charm. The interior was full of warm colors. Red brick and exposed rafters provided earthy, natural tones that softened the sterility of the white and aluminum workstations.
The main working room, where the watches were actually assembled, was a vast area set up in the center of the factory. It was positioned like the hub of a wheel, and every other specialized department of the building was positioned in a circular arrangement around the core. The building included separate specialized facilities like the foundry where the metal was melted and shaped, and a room for grinding the artificial gemstones used as bearings in the watches. It was a huge facility for only three elves, but Sam could already see evidence that they had started to get the factory into full production mode.
Sam walked deep into the building and found her three Kith partners. They were inspecting every surface and piece of equipment, but they stopped when Sam appeared.
“Do you like it?” Sam asked.
“Yes,” Noc Noc said. “It is a fine place to do fine work.”
“It’s very nice,” Melkidoodum said. “You can go now.”
“I just got here,” Sam said.
“Don’t mind him,” Piv said. “He’s just eager to get back to work.”
“I’m happy to hear it,” Sam said. “Now that you’ve seen everything, how fast do you think you can produce watches now?”
“I reckon three hundred a week,” Piv said. “Will that be enough?”
“For now,” Sam said with a sly grin. “For now.”
* * *
With the elves settled in their new accommodations, Sam prepared for the next great challenge in her life—that damn charity event Hamilton set up. She asked Jess to help her dress up for it. Jess, who was always excited by an opportunity to shop for nice things, accepted the task with glee. But the endeavor got off on the wrong foot when Jess suggested that Sam wear more traditional apparel.
“I can’t wear a dress to this thing,” Sam said.
“Why not?” Jess said.
“I’m a CEO, not a model. I want them to respect me, not ogle at me.”
“Sam, come on. It’s going to be a room full of married old money. These people are all about appearances. You have to look like you belong there.”
“A dress doesn’t have to be the way we achieve that,” Sam said. “Dresses are antiquated. Besides, I just don’t like them. Never have.”
Jess crossed her arms and stared at Sam. “Still determined to be one of the boys, eh?”
“No,” Sam said. “I’m determined to not fit into their impressions of what a woman should be. All the trophy wives are going to be wearing sleek little black dresses with sequins and ridiculous neck lines. That’s not me. It never will be. I don’t care what Hamilton says.”
“Okay,” Jess said. “Fine. We’ll go with the Hillary Clinton style and have you rock a pantsuit. But I’m going to have a hell of time finding a formal pantsuit that won’t make you look twenty years older.”
“You’re resourceful,” Sam said. “I’m sure you’ll make it happen.”
* * *
Jess certainly did make it happen.
The next day, while Sam was using a magnifying glass to examine Piv’s latest watch, Jess burst into her office with a sly grin and a wardrobe bag.
Sam glanced at the bag for a scant moment and then returned her attention to Piv’s flawless clockwork. “What’s in the bag?”
“I’m glad you asked,” Jess said. Then she revealed the mystery with an elaborate flourish, as if she were a circus ringleader unveiling a new act. In her hands, she held a black and white outfit that bore not a single wrinkle or puff of lint.
The jacket was sheer black wool, with black satin trim for the bold collar, lapels, and pocket flaps. The lapels had striking, hairpin-shaped slits for button holes. The pants were wide in the leg, and flared out at the bottom just a tad. The blouse was made of soft, shimmering white silk with a dainty bow hanging around the collar.
“Okay,” Sam said. “What’s that?”
“This,” Jess said, “is a modern version of the classic Le Smoking tuxedo suit for women, by Yves Saint Laurent. It’s very chic, and should work well with your boney shoulders. The sleeves are a bit short so you should be able to show off the Victoria with no problem.”
“I like it,” Sam said. “I knew you could do it. I can certainly feel comfortable wearing that at any party.”
&n
bsp; “So you’re definitely going now?” Jess asked.
Sam nodded. “I decided I could put up with it for a bit. Although a little alcohol might help.”
Jess frowned and shook her finger like the pendulum on a metronome wound too tight. “No booze. The last thing we need is for you to get drunk at a social event. Just relax. Try not to insult anybody, and you’ll do fine.”
“I wish you were going with me,” Sam said.
“So do I. I love these things. They serve the best food. One of the press events for our old client had this gorgeous pastry chef who made these amazing little twisty cinnamon-sugar things and oh my god I wanted to marry him and have children that would inherit his insane pastry abilities.”
“So it’s okay to stuff my face with food, but not drink?” Sam said.
“Yes dear, as long as you just take one at a time. Keep it classy. But right now we need to get you into this outfit so I know it fits. I’ll leave for a bit and get some snacks while you change. I have a sudden craving for cinnamon rolls.”
Jess went off towards the kitchen and closed the door behind her. Sam closed the blinds and changed. It took a while for her to get the clothes on. The materials felt delicate in her hands, and she wanted to be sure she didn’t somehow mar the flawless fabric. Sam had never been a fashionista, but as a maker of fine things she appreciated careful craft and she respected the work that went into producing such beautiful garments.
Once she got the clothes on, she looked at herself in the slender mirror hanging on her wall. For a brief moment she thought she was looking at someone else. The clothes fit her perfectly and conformed to her most slender areas while freely flowing in spots where she’d put on a tiny bit of chub. The overall effect was quite stunning. The plain, simple woman with quirky geek charm had been replaced with a haughty, intimidating vixen. Sam wasn’t sure she liked it, but she wasn’t sure she hated it either.
She walked back out to the kitchen and found Jess there with a half-eaten cinnamon roll and a full smile. “So how do I look?” Sam asked.
Jess winked and gave her a thumbs-up. “You look like you’re ready to sell some really expensive watches to some really rich people.”