Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
“I grew up eating a bowl of pasta as a side dish. I can eat.”
I caught Bennett’s eyes doing a quick sweep over my body, as if a comment was about to come, but then he shoved more pizza into his mouth.
“So what’s the deal with Marina?” I asked. “She rattled off a detailed inventory of the food she has in the fridge to let me know she’ll be very aware if anything goes missing.”
Bennett slumped into the couch. “I accidentally ate her lunch two years ago.”
“You thought her lunch was yours and ate it by mistake?”
“No. I knew it wasn’t mine. I don’t bring lunch. But I was working really late one night and thought it was Fred’s in accounting, so I ate it. It was one goddamned peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and now I’m accused of stealing her stapler or something every other week.”
“Well, I hear the rate of recidivism for first-time lunch thieves is pretty high.”
“I made the mistake of telling Jim Falcon. Now every once in a while, he swipes something off her desk and plants it on mine. He thinks it’s funny, but I’m pretty sure she’s about three paperclips away from poisoning my coffee.”
“Something tells me she isn’t the only woman to feel that way about you.”
***
Once we put the pizza away, the two of us couldn’t agree on anything.
First we took turns sharing our loose ideas for the Venus Vodka campaign. The company had solicited a full branding pitch for their latest flavored-vodka product. We needed to come up with a cohesive package: proposed product names, logo ideas, taglines, and an overall marketing strategy. Not surprisingly, my ideas and Bennett’s were a mile apart. All of my suggestions had a feminine ring. All of Bennett’s were masculine.
“Men ages eighteen to forty drink the most alcohol,” he said.
“Yes. But this is flavored vodka. Honey flavored. The primary drinkers of flavored alcohol are women.”
“That doesn’t mean we have to paint the bottle pink and sell it with a straw inside.”
“I wasn’t suggesting that. But Buzz isn’t a girly name.”
“It is when you add a bumble bee on the label. If the branding is too feminine, men aren’t going to pick the bottle up to carry to the register.”
“Are you serious? You’re really suggesting that if something is too feminine, men aren’t going to pick it up?”
“I’m not suggesting it. It’s a fact.”
We’d been arguing for the last half hour. If we were going to get anywhere working together, we needed to spend less time trying to sell the other one and more time coming up with ideas. I sighed. What a shame. I really loved Buzz vodka with a bee on the label. “I think we need a system.”
“Of course you do,” Bennett mumbled.
I scowled. “We each get three vetoes. If one of us invokes veto power, that means we think the concept is wholly unworkable, and there is no point in trying to shape it into a campaign. If one of us vetoes, we have to immediately move on and not try to debate why it’s a good idea.” I looked at my watch. “It’s a quarter to eight already. We could spend all night arguing.”
“Fine. If it gets you to give up on your bee campaign, let’s do it.” Bennett looked down at his watch. “And it’s seven fifty-one, not quarter to eight.”
Yep. Another eye roll.
Bennett decided to play some Ms. Pac-Man to try to clear his head. I needed to relax a little to get into brainstorming mode, too. So I slipped off my heels and stood. Pacing helped me think. I shook out my hands as I walked.
“Honey vodka…honey flavor. Sweet. Sugar. Candy.” I began to run through word associations aloud. “Syrup. Hive. Bzz. Bzz. Fuzzy. Yellow.”
“What the hell are you doing?” The sound of his Pac-Man being gobbled punctuated his sentence.
I stopped. “Trying to clear my mind and start thinking fresh.”
Bennett shook his head. “Your yapping is doing the opposite of clearing mine. I’ve got a better idea for you.”
“What? Run home and shower?”
He reached into the box he’d carried in for me and took out the sealed, unlabeled bottle that Venus had sent over with the RFP. Then he dug two little shot glasses out of his pocket.
I’d thought he was kidding earlier when he said he bought them in preparation for our brainstorming session.
“We need to sample the product. Nothing like a little alcohol to clear your mind.”
Chapter 9
* * *
Bennett
Annalise O’Neil was a lightweight.
We’d only done two shots—for research purposes, of course—and already her demeanor had changed. She waved her pointer finger in the air. The only thing missing was a light bulb in a bubble above her head. “I got it. Me so honey.”
She pronounced the honey so it sounded like horny. Then proceeded to crack herself up.