Opening his presentation folder with a firm mental slap directed at his misbehaving brain, Sailor nonetheless didn’t immediately set out the visuals he’d created using crappy old software on an equally crappy laptop. It still worked, and if he got his job, he could afford an upgrade.
“I know Crafty Corners is launching a new business,” he began. “Fresh, organic, fully handmade fast food, with a customizable menu.”
It had seemed like a strange concept when he’d first spotted a report about it in the business pages, but the more he’d read up on it, the more he’d realized that it was a genius move once you factored in the demographics of the areas in which the fast-food restaurants were to be based.
“That’s hardly a secret,” Jacqueline said with a well-known coolness. “And, quite frankly, Mr. Bishop, I fail to see what it has to do with a landscaping company. Your initial pitch intrigued me enough to agree to a meeting, but on further reflection, I see no point in expanding our landscape budget on the project.”
Sailor didn’t back down or flinch.
“As I walked in here,” he said, “I saw a number of your employees working on craft projects. Clearly that’s designed to hammer home your Craft Is Family motto.”
Jacqueline leaned back in the black leather of her executive chair. “Go on.”
“But,” he said, “look at the sites you’ve chosen for your initial three Fast Organic outlets.” He laid out the images in front of her, images he’d printed off the web. “Here’s the parking lot out front.” He pointed out on the first site, then tapped the same on the others.
Jacqueline’s eyes cooled further. “I’m quite sure I can recognize a parking lot.”
“So will your customers.” Sailor had been raised by a strong woman, knew how to stand his ground. “But these particular customers are going to be paying ten dollars for a wheatgrass shot. And thirty dollars for a tofu burger on organic rye baked that morning.”
He didn’t let it throw him when Jacqueline picked up her phone and began to scan through it; he knew he was talking sense, and he also knew that if she wanted him gone, she’d have told him the meeting was over.
“There’s a high chance at least a quarter will be driving eco-cars that require charging stations,” he said. “These are people who will analyze the site’s entire look to see if it fits with their worldview—if they want to be caught dining there or carrying a take-out bag from it. And they have the money to stay or go.”
Putting aside the phone, Jacqueline leaned forward with her arms folded on her desk. “You have my attention now, Mr. Bishop.”
Sailor didn’t make the mistake of believing the deal was anywhere near done. “It’s all about perception,” he said. “With the Crafty Corners sites, the crafts themselves are the landscaping.” Each store was fronted by a whole bunch of jumbo-sized craft items that drew the eye. “Fast Organic needs the same type of tailored approach. Everything must give the impression of health and green and a commitment to the earth.”
He brought out a sketch. “Here’s my first concept,” he said. “Partially grassed-in parking spots, including two with charging stations, the entire area edged in living green walls. A water feature here, depending on the budget.” He indicated the spot on the sketch. “A small external seating area so that customers downing your thirty-dollar tofu burgers will feel as if they’ve also bought access to a refreshing piece of paradise in the middle of the city.”
“Show me more,” Jacqueline said, and it was an order.
Giving her a quiet smile, Sailor leaned back in his chair. “Not until we come to an agreement,” he said, putting a touch of steel in his own tone. “I’m not about to show you everything I’ve got without getting something in return.” Jacqueline Rain was a ruthless businesswoman whom Sailor admired but knew not to underestimate.
Piercing green eyes narrowed. “Or I could throw you out right now and pick up the phone to hire a much bigger company. I’m sure they’d come up with fantastic ideas based on the general concept.”
Sailor shrugged. “True, but are you sure you want to go with a settled enterprise when you can hire me and spin it in the media as all part of Fast Organic’s commitment to small businesses—like the mom-and-pop organic suppliers you intend to use? Also, a bigger company will probably charge you three times as much.”
Another raised eyebrow. “While you’re willing to do it for pennies?”
“Not so low.” Sailor had his own financial realities, and he knew exactly how far he could push things. “But I am willing to do it for a lot less than an established company, because if I get this project, my work will be front and center at all the Fast Organic stores.” The openings would unquestionably be covered widely in the business and foodie media. “That’s worth taking a hit on the profit margin.”
A smile curved Jacqueline’s lips. “I like you,” she said, tapping a manicured and polished finger on the oak. “Store one opens in two months. You get that up and running in time and do a good job of it, then we talk about the other two.”
Sailor didn’t grab at the offer. “Three stores or no deal,” he said. “I’m going to be doing this for very little margin. I need at least three to make enough of a profit that I can pay my workers.” He didn’t have any workers aside from his brothers right now—and they worked for free—but Jacqueline didn’t need to know that.
“I need to see a breakdown.” Jacqueline’s tone made it clear that was nonnegotiable.
Slipping out a piece of paper from his file, Sailor pushed it across.
Jacqueline scanned it, said, “You can really do it on this budget?”
“I can do an even better job if you give me a higher plant budget,” he said honestly. “It depends how high-end you want to go. What I’ve quoted is nice but not expensive. You want a more exclusive feel, really hit your target market, you’ll need a bigger budget.” He ran through a few specifics to give her an idea.
Jacqueline made a couple of notations on his quote before handing it back to him.
He saw that though she’d extended his supply budget, she’d cut his profit margin in half. Shaking his head, he said, “Look, I need this job, but it’s pointless if it’s going to put me out of business.” He held her gaze.
She held his gaze as well, judging him, assessing him…
Her smile was sharp, unexpected… and it reminded him all over again of his runaway redhead. Taking back the quote sheet while he struggled to corral his thoughts, she returned his original profit margin. “All right,” she said, “three stores.”
Sailor didn’t allow himself to celebrate. “We should sign a contract.”
Jacqueline laughed even as she pressed the intercom on her desk. “I really do like you,” she said, before instructing Annalisa to organize a contract from a contractor template they had on file. “Enter these changes. Also, I need finance up here in ten.”
While she went over the specifics—which he planned to inspect with a fine-tooth comb—Sailor scanned the office to get a better bead on the woman with whom he was dealing.