Page 50 of Things I Overshared
Nicole: Go for it! I’m sure he’s into you too!
Well, I just met them, and when we shook hands, I said
“Hi, I’m Canton Cards Samantha.”
Nicole: LOLOLOL
But I recovered.
Nicole: What are you wearing today?
It’s a more casual day, so I’ve got on that hot-pink deep-V shirt with slacks
Nicole: Oh man, then the girls are poppin!
Nicole: Go get him!
You’re supposed to tell me I’m off men!
Nicole: If you wanted to hear that, you would’ve texted Skye.
Nicole: Go on a date, get kissed, ditch Emerson, and have some actual FUN.
Twist my arm ;)
I finish up in the restroom and head back to the office, where Emerson is starting the meeting. I’m surprised to hear laughter coming from the room as I reach the door.
“Can’t believe it, almost twenty years!” Tim chuckles. He sees my confusion. “We went to prep school with ole Clarky here.”
“Really?” I shoot Emerson a look that could kill.
Emerson nods with a tight grin. “I didn’t put two and two together.”
“Ah, mate, you don’t remember us. That’s all right. We were a couple years younger,” Thomas says with a wave of one hand.
“Plus, I’m going to go out on a limb and guess he wasn’t the most, uh, social student,” I joke, and the twin hotties give a little laugh again.
“No, mute as a mouse, but a bloody good polo player,” Tim says.
“Rugby too,” Thomas adds. “Don’t reckon he had any trouble being social, if you know what I mean.”
“You’re kidding! You were a jock?” I ask Emerson, who is maybe . . . is he blushing a little bit?
“Hardly,” he scoffs.
“Now a big-shot CFO! Can’t say I’m surprised,” Tim says.
There’s a lull for a second, so I shake myself out of my shock.
“That he is. I’ll let him work his magic, and then we can head to the main event,” I say with a smile.
The brothers own twenty gift shops across the UK, and their orders from us are relatively small. If we can get them to change the lines of cards and gifts that they order, order bigger quantities, and adjust their pricing just a bit, they could be making a lot more off our goods. This will be a big win for us since they have so many locations.
Emerson shows them the big picture with his usual surprising and genuine enthusiasm, then turns to me for details about each product line. I gush about the quality of not only our cards and calendars but also our coffee mugs, candles, coasters, tea towels, and hand-painted gifts. I pull up a few of the best sellers on my iPad, and I get emotional about my favorite cards each time. I can’t help it—some of them are so touching, or sad, or funny in a sweet way. It just gets to me.
The three men seem to pick up a nice rapport. I am feeling fairly confident the Emerson school connection is a bonus and not a drawback. But as we head for the entertainment portion of the day, I grow concerned.
We’re taking them to the Bermondsey Beer Mile, an unofficial pub crawl of over fifteen pubs. We won’t hit all fifteen, of course. The brothers have probably been, but we’re about to do it up right with all the flight samples, fancy appetizers, and special cocktails. I’ve prearranged for shot-glass-size samples and special menus with heavier food, since this is aworkinghappy hour, after all.
