Page 25 of A Little Moore Action
“Yes, but until I know how well Warren and Baron is willing to work with us, I don’t want to assume they’ll be difficult. Besides, I have assurances thatwe’llhave full control, not Warren and Baron.” Though if W&B is unwelcoming or unwilling to play ball under new management, it won’t be the first time I’ve had to ‘bitch up’ and take a more authoritative stance.
I tap my pen on my laptop, thinking as I chew. This time silently. Swallowing, I change directions. “Moore’s is unique in that due to the overwhelming assortment of products they sell, we have a huge option for cold prospect marketing.”
We’ve reviewed the company’s target audience, strengths and weaknesses, and now we’re on to strategies. All of which we’ve studied before, but it’s good to do so again after seeing the product and company firsthand.
“The best numbers are in the high-end departments,” Chris says, putting the now empty container down. “But there’s a big decline everywhere else.”
“Most of the high-end customers are in the forty to sixty age range.” Alice looks up from her furious note-taking. When everyone’s eyes meet hers, she looks back down, blushing.
Ben nods, looking lost in thought. “That’s a good point. Moore’s is basically alienating two generations. They may not have the money to shop in luxury goods, but there are a lot more departments than just the ones with the carpeted flooring.” He taps on his keyboard. “The gaming area and café are pretty cool, but I don’t even think those are listed on their basic website. Or if they are, they’re not prominent.”
“Then let’s target those areas. Instagram, Facebook, Twitter. We need to set up a social media plan anyway, seeing as Warren and Baron never made one for Moore’s.”
Ben and Chris look at each other, eyebrows raised.
“I know. When I talked to Cha—I mean Mr. Moore, he was pretty determined that social media would be our primary focus.”
I catch Alice’s smile at my near slip. Thankfully, young, recent male graduates are oblivious to those sorts of things. Ben simply states, “Awesome. Social media marketing is my jam.”
“It’s everyone’s jam, Ben,” Chris says, rolling his eyes. “It’s literally what King Marketing does.”
“Whatever. I’m excited, okay?” He rubs his palms together. “Moore’s is pretty huge. And as Campbell said, we have a clean slate. That’s pretty much a marketing man’s dream.”
“Yeah,ifWarren and Baron let us do our job,” Chris adds, always the optimist.
“Don’t worry about that.” I close my laptop and scan the room, bringing all eyes to me. “I’ll handle Warren and Baron.”
Walkingout the front doors of Moore’s and into the smoggy New York air, my mind is filled with visions of room service while cocooned in my sumptuous hotel room bed with an action film on in the background.
Those daydreams stutter when I see Chase leaning against a town car that’s parked at the curb.
My first thought?Damn, he looks good.
My second? He brings new meaning to “Hound Dog.”
I haven’t seen him all day. And I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed his absence. I’m a little mad at myself about how often I scanned the room or looked over my shoulder for his dark head of hair and charming grin. He’d sent us my favorite Thai food, but he never showed. I spent too much time worrying if he was avoiding me. If between me talking back to his father and mumbling about his nine-inch dick, he’d been offended.
By the time my team and I were ready to call it a day, my anxiety was clawing at me. So instead of dwelling on whether or not Chase Moore was upset with me, I made plans to relax in bed, in my sweats, listening to theatrical soundtracks of Bruce and Arnold quipping one-liners amid explosions of mass proportions.
Wine and action movies. This girl’s dream night in.
“Have a productive day?”
My answer comes a bit slow, because most of my brain power is occupied with eyeing his tall body, clad in gray trousers and a light blue plaid, button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
Forearm porn. It’s a thing. I swear.
“Um, yes. Yes, I did.” I gesture to the car. “What’s this?”
“One of your perks. Much better than a cab.”
I nod, studiously ignoring his forearms. “Thank you. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” I step toward the rear door of the car.
“Actually, more like two hours.”
I pause, my hand on the handle, which is seriously close to his ass as he’s still leaning against the car. “Excuse me?”
“I managed to stop Chris and Ben on their way out, too. Alice can’t make it, some pre-established plan.” He finally pushes off from the car and turns to open my door, grazing my hand in the process. “You’ll be picked up in two hours for dinner at Winston’s.” His free hand gestures to the top of Moore’s. “The restaurant on the top floor. Chris and Ben too.”
