Office Grump An Enemies to Lovers Romance - Nicole Snow Page 0,44
telling myself this bag carrying business is the last favor I do anyone today.
Nice Guy Mag isn’t who I am, much less what anyone else is used to.
I’m sure as hell not stumbling through another client meeting like that near-disaster with Stedfaust, and all because my EA turns me into something I’m not.
The stakes are too high.
I hope Miss Bristol enjoyed the truce.
If I have to growl and evil eye my whole team into locking down this client, so be it.
“So let me get this straight,” Millie Lindt, the CEO of Jazzle Razzle Designs says, leaning forward. “I’m supposed to give you a million-dollar budget for some Instagram posts?”
“Miss Lindt, the ads are all yours, and so is the budget. You can use them wherever you want, but I’ll guarantee they get picked up by the biggest influencers. That’s what’ll get you traction you won’t get anywhere else. You have a young, hip audience. They’re all on the Gram and TikTok.”
She cocks her head. Her platinum-blond hair ripples in the California sun streaming through the massive glass windows.
“A million dollars is a lot of money. You’re telling me you can guarantee results? I’ve never had another marketer make that claim.”
Technically, I can, as outlandish as it sounds.
We’ve never once had a client fail to see growth.
Still, she’s right, no other ad company guarantees results. Not if they’re in their right minds.
In theory, it’s impossible. There are too many variables. I don’t own the advertising platforms, which could glitch, and the influencers don’t have to play ball.
I also have zero control over other factors, like the formidable competitors in her space or Miss Lindt’s own quirks. She loves politics and her father is a governor. She isn’t shy about sharing her views, which could piss people off any time.
“I’ll tell you what,” I say, folding my hands. “If you don’t see at least a ten percent increase in sales from this campaign, we’ll create your next three ad campaigns free. No bull.”
Ms. Lindt meets my eyes. “If your million-dollar run is unsuccessful, what use do I have for another campaign?”
My phone vibrates against my leg.
Fuck. What now? I tap the screen under the table and look down.
Sabrina: Tell her the majority of our clients see a 20-30% increase in three weeks of the campaign’s release, and when that campaign runs for up to three months, the sales increase can go to seventy-five percent. Jazzle Razzle would almost have to try to stop our campaign from driving their sales through the roof.
She’s right about everything, but before I can mull it over, my phone pings again.
Sabrina: I mean, I’d tell her myself, but EAs don’t talk in meetings, or so I’ve heard...
Damn this girl.
She needs to learn there’s a time and place for her smart-assery, even if it’s wrapped in wisdom I will take seriously. I look up at Sabrina across the table. She raises her face just above her laptop, hiding a smirk, and returns to typing like mad.
“Sorry, forgot to mute my phone. Miss Lindt, ten percent is the minimum increase most of our clients see. Our Return on Ad Spend often sails north of fifty percent roughly a month after a campaign’s launch. When clients let it run for three months, the sales increase can go as high as seventy-five percent. Let HeronComm send your numbers to the moon. That’s revenue for new product lines and new hires. Our results speak for themselves, and I’m confident they’ll talk your language, too. The real question is, how confident are you in your team and its products?”
Lindt tumbles back and laughs so hard her chair rolls a few inches. “Oh, my. You’re good, Mr. Heron. Show me these ads.”
I do exactly that, with pleasure. Halfway through, as she’s complimenting everything, I hear Hugo breathe a bearish sigh of relief.
It’s almost too perfect.
She particularly loves everything we shot in the park after I shooed a crazy, latte-spitting woman off her park bench.
The meeting ends without a hitch, and when I shake her hand, it’s my turn to silently breathe a sigh of relief.
I’ll admit it. After the Woof Meow Chow stumble, today had me worried.
Hugo grins at my side so hard it looks like his cheeks hurt. He needed a win today.
Lindt pushes her chair back. “Thank you all for coming out to see me today. I’ll have that contract sent over by Monday.”
A minute later, we’re off, with the entire team swapping high fives behind me on the way to the