It was a trip that I had dreaded. Both Christopher and Isabella were well known prima donnas within the firm, cutthroat, overly competitive, and each had some sort of chip on their shoulder for one another. For the firm, closing the deal with this client meant record-breaking revenue, and the CEO wanted the best people to ensure everything went as planned. Unfortunately, this included me to soothe concerns of the clients' technical staff, who I already knew were itching to get their hands on our product.
Aggressive, tall, clean-shaven and rarely taking no for an answer, Christopher was the firm's top closer. Isabella had the highest profit margins in the firm - being smart and beautiful definitely had its advantages. While she kept up a solid ice-queen façade around the office, when it came to clients, she was as charming as you'd imagine a one-time debutant could be.
San Francisco was a four-hour trip from Chicago depending on what heightened state of security the airport was on this week. I was preparing for the worst, anticipating the continual bickering and snide comments to be exchanged between my two travel partners. I wasn't disappointed. You'd think they'd grow tired of it. Unfortunately for me, their ability to continually talk was probably one of the things that made them such good salespeople.
"We're in for a big payday if we seal the deal, Bella." Christopher always called her 'Bella', even though no one else did. But if it bothered her, she had never let him know.
"I'll have no problem closing, Chris. Just stay out of my way - and don't fuck up." Isabella was ruthless, and well known for using profanity when in a one-on-one situation to disarm another person.
Obviously, I must not have counted as another person. It felt as if they considered me a chauffeur who was only along to drive them around. Chris, being the kind of status guy he was, had already arranged for the rental of a 'Hummer' when we arrived.
Neither one of them had much use for the pre-sales technical team. They didn't understand the technology outside of using a few industry 'buzz words', but they were well aware of the revenue they could generate from selling it. Frankly, technical pre-sales was the group who was most responsible for the final sale. Without making a convincing pitch to the client's technical staff, they would never give the thumbs up to their management to spend the several million dollars to purchase and implement.
"No worry, Bella, I won't be fucking up - that's for sure," Christopher sarcastically winked at her. "However, there may be other, similar extracurricular activities I'll be engaging in once we've closed the sale."
"Oh, I'm sure you'll find some immature way to amuse yourself, Chris."
Christopher had quite the reputation as the office 'ladies man', and rumor had it he'd even slept with the CEO's daughter at the annual Holiday party. Isabella, on the other hand, had the reputation of being a frigid ice queen - or at least came off as so intimidating that few dared ask her questions about her personal life. Christopher had no such reservations.
"Maybe you'd like to come with me, see the sights, have some fun? Dancing, drinking, celebrating?" Christopher was fishing.
I braced for her to shut him down.
"I'd rather eat shit," Isabella smiled. "But why not ask Brad? He could probably use a night out."
'Me?' I was stunned they were actually aware of my name, much less my presence. Christopher paused for a minute, considering the option.
He looked at me. "You're coming with me after we win this client. No excuses."
With Christopher, you were either in or out, and he was usually the one to decide. Personally, after the long flight that morning, I had hoped to crash after the deal. We'd left at 5am, and the time change always threw me for a loop. Yet, part of me was interested in how Christopher operated, so I agreed to go with him.
"Fantastic! Maybe you'll change your mind later, Bella." he smiled, flashing his pearly white veneers.
"I highly doubt it," she was ice cold. No doubt about it
The day with the client couldn't have been more perfect. I already knew the technical staff was interested in our product, but our approach to their business, and our rationalizations as to how we could enable them to reduce their costs while increasing productivity was the clencher with them. They were eating out of my hand. This deal was eight months in the making, and they were literally salivating at the opportunity to install state-of-the-art systems to replace their antiquated ones.
Isabella had spent the majority of her time occupying the CEO, turning on more charm than any woman should rightfully have - much less use - pitching all the facets of the product that would improve their processes and enable greater revenue. Meanwhile, Christopher entertained the CFO and COO with in-depth financial metrics and explanations of cost benefits and productivity gains that would pay for the product costs in less than 18 months after implementation.
The working combination of the three of us was practically magical. By the end of the day the deal was signed in our presence, and we left in a heady, euphoric rush.
"My God, that felt good." Isabella was the first to talk, jarring us from our thoughts.
"We were really clicking on all cylinders. That was as smooth as they come. I never had any doubt they were going to sign." Christopher was basking, enormously inflated with self-worth.
"You know, Chris, I've changed my mind. After this, I'd really like to go for that drink." Isabella was as relaxed as I've ever seen her. All the stress that had accumulated prior to the deal closing had washed away. She was in the mood to celebrate.
"I thought you might," Christopher said smugly, as if he knew all along. "I know a great place not too far from here. Brad, turn off on the next exit and I'll lead the way."
I had resumed my role as chauffeur, occasionally listening to the conversations in the back, which from what I could tell were quite different than the ones that had taken place on the plane that morning. This was beginning to shape into a very interesting night.
The bar was at the edge of San Francisco Bay, overlooking the Golden Gate. There was a wide selection of trendy Martini's, and although it was a dance club, it wasn't yet busy enough to be too loud. The one thing I loved about California bars was the great selection of happy hour snacks. I hadn't eaten much that day, and the alcohol would have knocked me out long ago with the jet lag I was feeling from the flight. Famished by the time I walked into the bar, I headed straight toward the spicy scent of chicken wings and the tangy aroma of cheese covered nachos, and then piled my small paper plate high before sitting down and ordering a drink.
Christopher and Isabella seemed too high off the deal to eat, and immediately began ordering drinks, talking business, and recounting the conquest. Oblivious to how many drinks they were ordering, the conversation re-directed to any topic but business, and their demeanour changed from slightly professional to intoxicated and playful. They had consumed at least twice as many drinks as me, however I was the official driver, so had a good excuse.
"Let's dance!" Isabella suddenly stopped swaying her shoulders to the rhythm, and with a wild look in her eyes, she shot from her seat, a little unsteadily.
"Sounds good to me," Christopher got up, stumbling a bit, and headed through the narrow passageway toward the dance floor.
I reached out for another hot wing.
"You're coming too, aren't you?" Isabella looked straight at me, holding out her hand.
"Uh, I really don't dance much," I stammered, trying to think of any excuse. Dancing was awkward enough, but I didn't want to be put into any comparisons with Christopher, who I was quite sure had spent much more time on the dance floor than me.
