by Mel Walker
He reached in and took the larger of the two frames from her arm; she caught a whiff of his cologne and instantly recognized it, Privacy, a new fragrance by Dior which had quickly become her new favorite. She had purchased a bottle for her husband Justin but noticed just the day before that the box still remained unopened.
"I'll try to be quick as I know you are a busy man."
My Workplace had a large picture window with a small red door just off to the right. It was one of the many tiny storefronts which sat on the Springfield strip in downtown Monroe. Like the others, it was owned and operated by a dedicated local resident trying to figure out the new economy.
Peter Robins had moved to Monroe several years ago, initially purchasing a print shop previously owned by lifelong Monroe resident who retired. After losing money for consecutive years, Peter realized he needed to adjust to the new economy.
Other Monroe businesses, however, refused to adjust. Many had dedicated customers but were consistently on the precipice as Monroe continued to fight the battle of identity against the big box stores. Over the last five years the Chamber of Commerce and the local community had successfully kept out the giant box monoliths from entering the county; Target, Home Depot, and as of last month Sam’s Club; the town prioritizing character, uniqueness, and family over convenience and cheap goods.
Each battle, however, had brought about a growing weariness. Each victory proved hollow, as a neighboring town quickly swooped in and invited the competitors.
Its effects already being felt as customers decided it was worth the twenty-minute drive to purchase inferior products at deeply discounted prices. Customers no longer content to walk through town, checking in with their neighbors, sharing a hot chocolate and bagel at Marty's while their children picked over the latest gifts and toys at Marie's. Lay-a-way, quality and a no questions asked return policy were slowly disappearing from Monroe just as it had left the consciousness of most of Middle America.
"I figured we can set up right here in the main room if that works for you," Peter drew her back in as he gently set the large picture frame onto the spotless brand new table in the center of the room.
Leslie scanned the space; it was large enough to accommodate nearly three dozen desks. Currently, only about a dozen tables stood, all huddled in one clean corner of the area. The rest of the space had furniture in various stages of assembly strewn around.
"That's perfect," Leslie added as she sat the other frame on top of the next desk. "So what are we looking at here Peter?"
"Hold on," Peter said as he stepped toward her. His Blake Shelton blue-grey eyes locked in on hers as he stepped within six inches of her.
She diverted her eyes down toward the ground, her right hand instinctively reaching for her left as she unconsciously twirled her wedding ring.
"This has been bothering me since you pulled up, I just have to ..."
"Pppp..please don't ....," she whispered so quietly that she doubted the words ever left her lips. As the scent of Privacy filled her nostrils once again, she closed her eyes not sure what was going to occur.
She felt his gentle hand brush back her hair.
"There..."
He stepped back away from her as she opened her eyes just in time to see him flick away something from his fingertips.
"You had something caught in your hair, I noticed it the minute you stepped out the car. Sorry, it was irritating me."
Leslie brushed back a strand of hair from her eye, gently directing it over her ear, "thanks," she managed as she slowly found her voice yet again.
The pair stared at each other for a long moment before Peter clapped his hands together loudly. The sound echoed against the bare walls in the storefront. "Show and tell time, I hope you don’t mind, may I go first. I’ll show you mine, yadda yadda..."
Leslie crossed her arms and glanced out the large glass window, not sure how to respond.
Peter didn’t wait for a response as he began. His arms moved before his mouth got started, "It's a beautiful space, and I have some big ideas," he leaned over flipping the desk as easy as one would flip a pancake.
The thought caused Leslie to lick her bottom lip, the hint of maple syrup still present.
“These are the secret to My Workplace. Fully convertible modular work desks. Suitable for an independent worker, or …” He leaned down once again and flipped another desk. He slid them together, lining up two metal plates, the metallic click confirming the connection.
As if to emphasize the point, Peter stepped back and pushed the desk with one foot. They moved as one. “There you have a mini-conference table for co-workers. The design can work in any increment of two. Two, four, six, eight, etc. We can transform the space from individual work desks to a conference desk in seconds.”
Leslie nodded, “wow, that’s impressive. I can see why you are the go-to place for the new gig economy.”
Leslie recalled reviewing Pete’s business proposal at an open Chamber of Commerce session. She had to sign a non-disclosure agreement, to attend. Peter walked the room through his concept; Independent contractors paying a monthly fee to access workspaces in town. A virtual office for today’s new gig economy.
“Yeah, I’ve been working on this for over a year. After the last recession, so many people never returned to the corporate world. They are running their own one-man shops. They need places to work, however. Most can’t afford rent for an office, but they can afford a monthly fee, no more than a monthly subscription to software. My workspace - Guaranteed desk, free wi-fi, a quiet professional work environment.” Peter pointed toward the doorway leading to the rear of the store, “A fully stocked copy room with a color copier, presentation binding equipment and a large format printer suitable from posters and banners.”
“You kept the equipment from the print shop?”
He nodded, “it’s actually cheaper to keep them than dispose of them.” His eyes glinted, his satisfaction in his plan evident.
Leslie paced around the room, picturing a room filled with busy contractors. Hell, she could imagine herself at one of the desks, working between meetings in town, as opposed to running back and forth home. Her hand swiped across the desk, “and what are these,” she tapped a series of metal holes and plugs.
Peter beamed like a proud parent, “that my dear is the difference maker.” He knelt down, his eyes mere inches from the holes, “Each desk has a USB hub to allow the worker to recharge their electronics, plug in accessories and even connect to a Bluetooth audio jack for conference calls.”
Leslie ran her hand across the top of the desk, “it’s so light, what type of wood do you use?”
The smirk returned to his lips. He stood slowly, “it’s a secret,” he said in his most coy voice.
“But you’ll tell me, right?” Leslie played along as she continued to admire the craftsmanship of the desk.
Peter glanced over his shoulder toward the doorway. He lowered his voice, “I’m only going to tell you because I know how seriously you are about wood.”
Leslie paused. The smirk had disappeared from his face as if he had no clue as to what he just said. Before she could respond, he continued.
“It’s Balsa.”
“No way,” she returned louder than she had intended. “No way Balsa is strong enough for what you have it doing.”
He laughed,
“What’s so funny?”
Leslie couldn’t help but giggle along with him.
After what seemed like minutes, he wiped his eye, “I knew I chose well, so damn smart.” His laughter faded as his wide mouth easily produced yet another smirk. “Most people wouldn’t have any idea about Balsa wood. But you really do live and breathe wood.” His eyes sparkled in appreciation, “I use a special combination like I said, and I’ve been working on this for over a year. Its compressed and molded Balsa covered with a hardwood veneer.”
It was Leslie’s turn to kneel down at the desk. A slight whistle escaped her lips. Her fingers wiped ov
er the top this time much slower; her eyes lingering. She began in a near whisper, “this is brilliant. Durable, lightweight, easy to move.” She turned toward him, “I hope you filed a patent. Otherwise, I may steal your idea.”
“I worry about a lot of things, but that’s not one of them,” Peter added. “If you want to see the design all you have to do is say the word. It’s nearly impossible for me to say no to you.”
She avoided his glance as she stood and straightened her skirt, her five foot seven height barely reaching his shoulder. “Which I guess is why a man of your skill with furniture is humoring me by looking at my simple picture frames.” She attempted to redirect the conversation.
“There’s nothing simple about …” he let the word linger before continuing, “… your frames. Sure I could pound out a frame or two but why attempt to create an inferior knockoff when I can bring in the best.”
“The best you say?” It was her turn to smirk, surprising herself at how much she was enjoying the tete-a-tete. “Well then make room for the best.” She pushed past him, her hand brushing across his midriff. He stood his ground, all two hundred and ten pounds of muscle. The move forced her to look up into those sparkling eyes, they once again reminding her of a calm ocean after a hurricane.
He was once again biting on the inside of his left cheek, the effect causing a faux dimple to appear. She slowly exhaled as he smirked and stepped to the side. She reached deep into her tote bag and pulled out a three-legged tripod. She moved with fluidity, hinting at the hours of repetition.
"You going to take pictures?" Peter queried.
"Not even close," she whispered as her hand disappeared into the tote bag once again. Her hand paused momentarily on the tape measure before settling on a rectangular black metal box with an off-center hole at its top. Leslie quickly screwed it onto the top of the tripod as she then located a V-shaped set of tubes which twisted into the hole on the box. On each end of the V-shaped tubes were tiny red lights. She flicked a button, and the lights came alive.
"Whoa!! Are those lasers?"
Leslie fought back a chuckle, "yep, freaking lasers. Cool right?" A look of pride spread across her face as if she was maintaining a secret which could change the balance of the world. She grabbed her phone from her purse and tapped. The lights on the box blinked in an unpredictable pattern.
Leslie continued to stare down at her phone, reading the screen. She noticed the quiet.
She hesitated to look in his direction, from past meetings she knew his silence usually meant he would be staring at her. As she turned slightly, adjusting the tripod yet again, she caught a glance of Peter indeed deep in staring mode, his focus so intense that no words escaped his lips. She was pleasantly surprised to see that for once she wasn't the object of his attention; the tool his latest fascination.
Pleased, she continued, "It's a laser measure and leveler all in one."
"I've never seen anything like that before. Does it record the measurements from the laser into that box? What happens next?”
Leslie beamed and nodded, her admiration for the device growing with each syllable, "wirelessly synchronization. Accurate to a tenth of an inch."
"I've never seen anything like that before."
"And you won't, it's a one of a kind." She twisted the tripod slightly and glanced down to the phone yet again. "It's a Justin original."
"Oh, your husband made that?"
"Yeah, one of the many. He's an inventor. This is one of my favorites. He made it just for me - for my business." She stepped around the box and pointed at a dial. "He calls it Hanging with Less.” The name never failed to make her giggle.
“When projected on any wall it will take the measurements of all four dimensions. It then automatically performs a complex series of calculations and sends it to my one of a kind app." She held up her phone. She touched an icon, an image of her holding up a picture frame. Inside the frame, another superimposed duplicate image of her a la Modern Family.
The app launched as a quick message flashed, synching. Leslie flipped the screen toward Peter. "The app receives the measurements, builds out a quasi-wall, and I then can pull up an inventory of all the frames I’ve ever developed or even allow me to load in new ones. The app automatically suggests locations on the wall - centered, off-centered, flush left, right, etc. It allows me to virtually layout frames and designs on a wall without ever lifting an item."
"Wow, this is amazing."
"Yeah, my fella is kind of talented that way.” She bit her lower lip, the attempt to suppress the smile failing as her lip turned white and the dimple on her left cheek appeared.
She stole a glance at Peter who bit down yet again on the inside of his mouth, a matching dimple.
She looked away, staring down at the screen once again, “Here's the best part." She selected the two picture frames which now lay on Peter's desk. She dragged them virtually onto the wall and pressed a few buttons. "Watch this." Leslie set the phone on the desk, pressed a button and then stepped back.
After about thirty seconds the box on top of the tripod activated itself. A low beep emitted from the box as the lights on the device came alive. The lasers projected out onto the wall two sets aligning the layout for the frames. "Grab that piece there and lay it against the wall right where the lights are."
Peter did as instructed as Leslie walked next to him and held up the second selection. The configuration of the pieces matched the digital layout perfectly. "And that is how I can do an entire room in two hours without a missed drill, a re-alignment and or having to spend time with touch-ups afterward. Nice huh?"
"Nice. Nice is having both ketchup and mayo on your burger. This is simply amazing. No wonder you have a monopoly on picture framing in this town."
Leslie beamed, as she lowered the frame, placing it back on the table. "Justin calls them by a lot of names, competitive advantage, product differentiation, and a host of other things. I call it the wow factor. Has a nicer ring to it." Leslie worked her way back to the tripod and unhooked the device.
Peter lowered the frame, his fingers slowly caressing its edge. “Such amazing craftsmanship.” His index finger rolled over the words My Workspace. On the bottom border in a matching font were the words, colleague, collaborator, and customer. Hidden within the rest of the design were elements which only became apparent if you took a closer inspection,, Two workers at a connected desk, a laptop and dollar signs.
“Simply beautiful,” Peter whispered as he looked up at Leslie.
She lowered her chin to her chest and bounced on her toes. “You haven’t seen anything yet. Bring me that.”
Peter stepped around a double desk as he handed her dark frame which was bigger than any of the others.
Leslie reached back into her tote bag and pulled out what looked like a rolled up blueprint. The off-white item, however, wasn’t made of paper.
It was Peter’s turn to bounce on his toes. “Don’t tell me. Is that?”
Leslie hooked the item to the top border of the frame and unrolled it. She connected the remainder to the bottom. “You have no freaking idea how much work it took to get this right. But, yes, it’s a fully configurable organic light-emitting diode screen.”
“I love it when you talk nerd.”
Leslie handed him the fully assembled solution and pointed toward the wall. “Hold it up there by the lights.” As Peter danced around the desks again, she continued, “I only have a few OLED’s, but I was able to solve the mystery of configuration so it should be easier going forward. This one is already configured to your guest network. You want to see it in action?”
“Are you asking whether I want to be a millionaire? I think everyone knows that answer.”
Leslie pulled out her laptop and tapped a few items. “Firstly, I set it up to project artwork. Did you plug it in?”
Peter nodded.
“Alexa, show Water Lilies by Monet.”
The OLED display flicked on, a warm yellow fading and a portrait of t
he painting appearing in full 4k display. The image so clear that Peter reached out to touch the screen.
“No freaking way, you integrated it with Alexa?”
“Alexa, Google Home, and three other up and coming technologies. I want to set it and forget it.” Leslie tapped away further, “watch this.”
The screen transformed again. This time a PowerPoint slide appearing, the My Workspace logo appearing in the center.
“Is that my presentation from the Chamber meeting?”
“Yep. I’ve built Bluetooth and screen replication into the frame. Your independent workers can now project to the picture frames right from their smart desk.”
Peter slowly lowered the frame, his eyes glued to the screen. His eyes watered up.
“Pete? Are you going to be ok?”
Peter placed the frame on the desk and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know what to say. This is beyond my wildest dreams. When we met, and you told me to blue sky, honestly, I thought you were humoring me. If you had delivered half of what I was looking for, I would have been blown away.”
He turned toward her, his hands still firmly pushed into his pockets. His shoulder raised the look on his face, unreadable. “This? This, I don’t know what to say. This is beyond amazing. Where have you been all my life?”
Leslie’s cheeks turned red as a blush appeared. “I aim to please.”
His gaze locked in once again, “what you see before you is a very satisfied man. Pleased even.”
The room filled with silence for a beat as Leslie couldn’t look away. She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Her voice lowered slightly, “So can I assume I have your business? Shall we discuss the specifics over coffee?"
Peter rubbed the back of his hand to his eye. "You've had my business ever since you drove up to the curb this morning. This changes everything. I needed these frames not just here but included in my expansion plans.” Peter’s breath shortened as if he was about to hyperventilate. “I can’t believe you got the OLED screens to work. That certainly accelerates things. We have so much to discuss. I have a pot brewing in the break room. Follow me.”