“Well, if I were you,” Hayden said, “which I’m obviously not, I’d be asking—what’s my competitive advantage?”
“And?” Drew prompted.
“Well, rugby, obviously,” Hayden said. “You’re not just recruiting tradies to come to beautiful Dunedin. You’re All Blacks recruiting tradies, and they’d have to be the most receptive audience in the world to that idea, unless you were actually recruiting farmers. So put that up there front and center. That’s what I’d do if I were you, which, again, I am not.”
Luke didn’t exactly make a face, but he looked like he would have, if he hadn’t been the most unexpressive of men. Hayden said, “I know, I know, but hear me out. You do …” He waved a hand. “A website. Ads. A texting campaign, even better, if you can get approval from the union. I’d think you could, recruitment and all. Better yet, work with the union to get that straight onto their phones. And, sorry,” he told Drew, “but having that come from you would be best. Every tradie alive is clicking on a text with that face on it. I’d click on it, for that matter.”
“Oi,” Luke said mildly.
“I’m just saying,” Hayden said.
“Possibly inappropriate,” Drew said. “As I’m still employed by New Zealand Rugby. I’d have to give that some thought. Could come from you, though, Luke.”
“I don’t think the ‘gay footballer’ bit would go down a treat with those boys,” Luke said.
There was silence as everybody mentally conceded that, and then Drew said, “You, obviously, Gray.”
“You’re the brownest,” Hayden put in helpfully. “Man of the people. Also the boss. Then you list the investors. New Zealand Rugby can’t object to that, to Drew and Kane being on the list. They are investors. And a photo of the four of you in hard hats and tool belts, arms around each others’ shoulders like you’re lining up for the anthem, in front of a … crane. Bulldozer. Whatever. A huge yellow piece of heavy equipment, anyway, and some dirt. The caption says, ‘Join the Team.’ Admit it, it works.”
“Why would a potential hire care who the investors were?” I asked. “Also, those cash reserves don’t run to billboards or TV ads.” I wanted my fingers at my temple. I didn’t put them there. I was trying to eat my breakfast, but it wasn’t easy.
“They’d only care, oh, a hundred times over,” Hayden said. “Do you really not know that? Being an examplar of Kiwi humility is one thing. Deluding yourself is another. And if we can’t do TV ads, we do something more cost-effective instead. Sorry, on the ‘we.’ Carried away by my enthusiasm.”
“You can say ‘we,’” Luke said. “What’s mine is yours, and so forth. We’re married.”
“True,” Hayden said. “I suddenly feel so cheerful.”
Drew laughed and said, “Well, as you’re on board, and you’ve clearly got creative powers and research skills the rest of us don’t, how about ginning up a plan for us, Hayden?” Now he was the one overstepping, as I was the director, but today, I’d take all the help I could get.
Drew may have realized it, though, because he looked at me and asked, “OK by you?”
“Yeh,” I said. Maybe it was the relief of having this meeting over with, but I was suddenly so exhausted, it was hard to speak. Also, the headache had found a fifth gear, and my defenses were gone.
Drew waited a beat, and when I didn’t say more, he said, “Right. Follow up when?”
“Two weeks?” I asked Hayden, trying to focus through the starburst that was my left eye.
“I can do that,” Hayden said, “as I suspect you’re in crisis mode. I get that even through all the stoicism. Could be because I’m used to stoicism, though. As I seem to have married it. My plan will be preliminary, but I can do something in two weeks. I’m very good.”
Drew smiled, and Luke looked quietly satisfied, or possibly proud as punch. I told him, “Good work, mate. On the husband,” and he actually smiled. All he said, though, was, “Cheers.”
“Two weeks, then,” I said. “Send it to all of us, Hayden, and I’ll set another meeting. We’ll make a plan. Marketing plan. Labor marketing. And meanwhile, I’ll sort out that foreman.”
Handshakes, then, and the scrape of chairs. I stayed where I was. I needed a minute.
I’d go back to Dunedin first thing tomorrow, where the problems would still be waiting for me. That belonged to tomorrow,