Pecking Order, page 6
He said, “Okay. I’ll pay you for creating the logo, and I’ll give you what you need for creating the site, but I can only pay you so much each month to manage the site until it begins to pay for itself. So the more traffic you create for me with all of your ideas, the more I can agree to pay you for management. Does that sound fair?”
Jeff looked at Paul and didn’t see a problem with it. They both had ideas for traffic already.
Paul looked back to Jeff and nodded.
“All right. We could do that,” Jeff agreed.
They then discussed putting everything in writing to sign for their next meeting.
Jeff stood up from his chair and said, “Okay, since we’re officially gonna be in business with each other, we can show you our lab now.”
Paul stood up with him, and that made Ivan stand.
“Follow us,” Paul told him.
They walked into a basic college apartment of makeshift furniture, a large-screen TV, video games, and schoolbooks before they led Ivan into a darker, secluded family room. In the darker family room, they had three LCD screens, several computer towers, scanners, a color printer, a fax machine, CDs, DVDs, several office chairs, eccentric posters all over the walls, and plenty of gadgets, artwork, and books all littered around the room.
“And this is our lab, where all of our creativity comes out,” Jeff told him.
Their work space was five times more cluttered than what Ivan liked for his personal taste, but he wasn’t a graphic designer or webmaster. So whatever worked for them, worked for them.
Ivan smiled and said, “It’s amazing how different cultures can be so…” He searched for a word to use. “Different,” he said with a chuckle.
Jeff jumped in and said, “Hey, man, it’s all gonna come together one day,” and he locked the fingers of his two hands together.
Paul agreed with a nod. “Like The Matrix,” he commented.
Ivan grinned and held back his laugh. As long as they do what I need them to do, it don’t matter much to me, he told himself. They can talk about The Matrix all they want.
IVAN STILL HAD TO BRAINSTORM what his first party would be. So he called some friends who were members of the San Diego Urban League to meet up with him for lunch.
They met at Carol’s Soul Food Restaurant, a new establishment in Old Town, off of Interstate 5. The place was only a few exits south from where Ivan worked in North Clairemont.
“Now, when are you gonna stop messing around and join the Urban League, Ivan?” Thomas Jones asked him. He was an older black man in his fifties, with the enthusiastic energy of a thirty-year-old. He didn’t let the gray hairs of wisdom slow him down. He was a tireless believer in the old-time religion of black solidarity. Thomas wasn’t known to hold his tongue, either. He said what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it. So Ivan realized he wouldn’t be able to get around an Urban League membership.
He sat at a window-view table, enjoying barbecued ribs with Thomas and Henry Morgan. Henry was in his midthirties. He and Thomas worked for the same real estate firm. In fact, Thomas had recruited Henry a few months before attempting to recruit Ivan.
“How much is the membership again?” Ivan asked them.
“Fifty dollars to become a Young Urban Professional,” Henry answered.
“And what are my duties?”
“You don’t have any duties unless you want to become an officer, Ivan,” Thomas told him. “All we ask for you to do is come to the monthly meetings and participate in some of the community events that we organize.”
Ivan figured he had no choice. He had not joined the Urban League before, but now that he wanted them to help him, he would have to join them in some of the things that they wanted to accomplish. Business was business.
He nodded and mumbled through his food, “All right. I can do that.”
“Good. We’re glad to finally have you on board,” Thomas told him. “Now, what’s this new promotion business you were telling me about?” he asked before stuffing his mouth with ribs.
Ivan wiped his fingers and lips with a napkin before he spoke. “I want to start organizing events where we can pull together—you know, different people from San Diego’s black business community.”
Henry looked at him, confused. “That’s what we do in the Urban League. You’re trying to start your own Urban League now?”
Ivan smiled it off and was ready to explain his ideas again. “Well, it’s not just the business community, but the black people of San Diego in general. I wanna give them different places and events where they can come together and enjoy themselves for a few hours. And what I would do is use my website to promote the events and give spotlights to the movers and shakers of black San Diego. I can even set up an events calendar page to push the Urban League meetings.”
That gained Thomas’s full attention. He nodded and said, “That makes good sense. So basically, you wanna be a San Diego mixer man.”
“Whatever you wanna call it,” Ivan told him.
Thomas looked around their surroundings and said, “Well, you can start that with this place right here. They’re in the middle of a bunch of Spanish restaurants. Carol could use an event here. And I know her personally.”
Ivan nodded, thinking it over. He said, “I’ve always liked the Old Town area. It’s in the perfect spot, right off the highway and only minutes away from downtown.”
The restaurant had a nice size to it, with paintings of African-American historical figures on the walls. Since the furniture was lightweight and modern, Ivan figured they would have no problem rearranging the place for dancing if they needed to.
Thomas moved on the idea fast. “All right, well, let me introduce you to Carol, then.” He stood up from their table and waited for Ivan to follow him back toward the kitchen area. He hadn’t even finished with his food yet. He addressed one of the cooks, who was wearing a white apron and a hairnet.
“Hey, Jesse, let Carol know I got somebody out here to meet her. He wants to throw a networking party over here in a couple of weeks.”
Jesse heard that and started smiling from behind the tall counter that separated the customers from the kitchen. But Ivan didn’t even have a date yet.
“All right, that’s good. I’ll go and tell her,” Jesse commented.
When he disappeared farther into the kitchen, Thomas looked back at Ivan and grinned.
“That’s a good idea you came up with, Ivan. Perfect timing, too. I was just telling Carol we need to do something for her over here. All I was doing was telling people about the place. But if you promote a big party…now, that’s something different.”
Thomas was moving full steam ahead with things, but Ivan still needed to calculate it all. How could he make any money off of it?
Will she let me charge people to get in? I wonder how much she makes on a regular Thursday night. He surely didn’t want to compete on a weekend. Thursday night was a safer bet.
Before he could finish thinking it over, Carol Henderson, an attractive reddish brown woman in her sixties, with dark eyes and long salt-and-pepper hair, moved out of the kitchen office to meet the young man who wanted to throw a party to promote her new establishment. Thomas told her all about him.
“Hey, Carol, this is Ivan David, a young accountant out of Los Angeles, who went to school down here at San Diego State. He works with the big accounting firm of Hutch and Mitchell. But now he, ah, wants to start promoting parties to spotlight black businesses in the San Diego area, to help bring us all together.”
Carol set eyes on him and was pleased already. Ivan had a colorful look that stood out in a crowd.
Carol nodded to him and gave him some of her own history. She said, “It took a long time for my children to convince me to open up this restaurant. But I just told myself that I would do it now before I’m no longer here. And that way I can give my children something that they can continue going with.”
Her easygoing talk and position as the family matriarch made Ivan rethink his business ideas. He immediately wanted to help her out and make her proud of her decision to open a restaurant. He had just made the same decision to reach for higher goals himself, only he was less than half her age. She even reminded him a little of his mother.
Yeah, I got plenty of time to make money, he told himself. So let me just go ahead and put on a good event to start pushing my name.
He took Carol’s soft hand in his and made his pitch. “Well, at I.D. Promotions, what we want to do is identify community people and businesses who deserve attention. And I’ve always liked Old Town. So I’m glad we have a business like yours in this community.”
Carol was speechless, just staring at the young man. His sincerity and colorful eyes were mesmerizing.
Thomas looked over at Ivan himself and held back his thoughts for the moment.
Carol told him, “Well, whatever you need from me, just let me know.”
Ivan had to hold his tongue. She was giving him an open door to ask her for a cover charge for a Thursday. But how would she respond to that? Would she think of him as a charming snake and kindly chase him out of her garden? Or would she view it as simple business and take a chance with it? And what would Thomas think?
With all of his thoughts running through his mind at light speed, Ivan opened his mouth and said, “Well…what I want to do is promote an ‘Old School Eat and Greet After-Work Jam at Carol’s Soul Food Restaurant in Old Town.’”
Thomas heard that and shortened it. “An ‘Old School Eat and Greet Jam at Old Town’? I like that. But what kind of ‘old school’ are you talking about, your ‘old school’ or my ‘old school’?” Thomas teased him.
Ivan smiled. He said, “I’ll tell the DJ to make sure he mixes it all in.”
Carol continued to look him in his eyes. “Well, you just let me know, and whatever you need, we’ll set it all up for you. Okay, honey?”
Ivan nodded to her. “Okay.”
And that was it. It was a done deal.
Thomas walked Ivan back over to their table and chuckled to himself on the way.
“What’s so funny?” Ivan asked him.
Thomas stopped and looked him in the eyes. Then he whispered, “Now, Ivan, I’ve been selling real estate for twenty-two years, and I know good bullshit when I see it. So I’m standing here the whole time, thinking to myself, If Carol was just twenty years younger, she’d be all over your yellow ass.”
Ivan started smiling and shook it off before Thomas could finish.
Thomas said, “Now, you wait until you meet her daughter. You all could pass for family, outside of them light eyes of yours.”
Despite their laughter, Ivan got down to business. He said, “Well, what I’ll need from you, to pull this thing off, is an email list of people to invite.” He stopped himself short of naming the Urban League. He figured he would let Thomas make the connection for himself. Thomas also knew black professionals who were not members of the UL.
Thomas took the bait and said, “Oh, don’t worry about that. I got all of that. But I’ma tell you what, Ivan. I think that accounting thing, with you sitting behind a damn desk all day, was the wrong career for you. You need to be out here in front of people. I can see it now. You real easy on the eyes and quick on the conversation. That’s why I tried to get you to sell real estate years ago.
“But you gon’ do good at this promotions thing,” Thomas continued as they reached the table and sat back down. “You mark my words.”
IVAN EVENTUALLY worked out a deal with Carol and her business-savvy daughter Ida to charge a five-dollar “donation” that he would share with them after the party. He didn’t have the ice in his veins to ask for a full cover charge yet. And just in case his first event was a dud, he wanted to make sure he still had something to offer them for their efforts.
The total expense of the party, including promotional flyers, email blasts, and website updates, was close to eight hundred dollars. Two days before his first big Thursday event, Ivan sat alone at home inspecting the artwork of his first promotional flier. He was very pleased with it.
The flyer mimicked the initial idea that Paul had come up with in his mock-up drawing. On the back of the flier, Ivan allowed them to promote their plan to pull in a broader San Diego email list through the website. So Paul and Jeff enlarged the IDPromotions.com brand across the back, with “Who are you?” slanting across the top left corner, “What do you do?” slanting across the top right, and “Let us know!” across the bottom.
Ivan had to admit that it was a clever idea. They had street teams passing out fliers all over the city. Once they attracted high traffic to the website, they had all the right questions set up to collect the needed data.
The biggest decision was whether or not Ivan wanted to promote himself on the site. But he decided not to. He wanted to get his promotion business off the ground first. He forced himself to rationalize that it wasn’t about him yet; it was all about the promotions idea.
As soon as Ivan set his flyer back in the pile of a hundred or so that sat out on the coffee table in front of him, Catherine Boone called him on his cell phone. She had gotten the job in Oceanside and was moving back to San Diego that same week. She was extra excited about it.
“Isn’t this perfect timing, Ivan? I fly into San Diego on the same day that you kick off your first party,” she told him.
Ivan wasn’t as excited. Just as Thomas had told him, Carol’s daughter Ida was a good-looking match, and he looked forward to working with her. However, if Catherine showed up, with her familiarity with him, along with her control issues, he figured she would get in the way of his plans to charm Ida.
“Does your flight get in early enough for that?” he asked Catherine. He hoped that it didn’t. Or at least that she would cut it close. That would leave him no time to worry about her.
Catherine answered, “Yeah, I land at eleven in the morning. I wanted to make sure I had enough time to get in and get settled. I got my outfit and shoes ready and everything.”
Ivan said, “Yeah, well, you know I won’t have time to pick you up or anything—”
Catherine cut him off. “Ivan, please, I know that. I have a rental car set up. I mean, it’s not as if I’m unfamiliar with San Diego. I know how to get around. Old Town is right off the damn highway.”
She was biting his head off with her assertiveness already. He could just imagine the amount of his time she would want to consume at the event. So he hated the idea of her being there.
I’m just gonna have to be frank with her, then, he told himself. Any attempt to beat around the bush with Catherine would be in vain. The woman didn’t respond well to hints.
Ivan said, “Well, I’ma let you know right now, when I’m doing this party, I won’t have time to be locked up in a corner somewhere. I need to be able to meet and greet with people.”
Catherine paused for a second. “So, what are you trying to say, Ivan, that I’m gonna be all over you or something? Because it’s not even like that. I just want to see you pull this thing off as a friend. But if you don’t want me to come, then just let me know.”
Ivan was already shaking his head and breathing deeply to compose himself. He said, “Catherine, I’m just letting you know beforehand that my attention is all on this business right now, and I don’t want you getting your feelings hurt or being offended by me not paying enough attention to you.”
“Ivan, what did I tell you inside the hotel room when you left me to go to that party?”
He remembered it like it was yesterday. “You told me you were a grown fucking woman.”
“And that’s what I meant,” she told him again.
Ivan nodded with his cell phone in hand. “All right.”
WHEN THAT THURSDAY ARRIVED, Chip Garrett was more than curious to know why Ivan was dressed so nicely and why he was rushing around the office to leave an hour early.
“What you got going on tonight, Ivan? You’re obviously dressed and ready to do something.”
Ivan wore a navy blue pin-striped suit to work that morning, with black leather shoes, a stylish multicolored tie, and a baby blue dress shirt. He had gotten a fresh haircut that Wednesday. But he was still hesitant to let anyone at the office know too much about his promotion plans, especially while he was just getting his business started. He didn’t know how the bosses would respond to any gossip about it yet. And with Chip complaining about their workload, Ivan didn’t want to add any fuel to the fire about his moonlighting with a new hustle.
“I’ll tell you in a few more months after I see if this goes anywhere with her first,” Ivan insinuated on purpose. He never had come clean with Chip about his new business plans. They had so much work around the office that Chip forgot to ask him again. But when Ivan began to mislead him about a woman, his teammate in the tax department looked surprised.
“What, all this over a girl? Are you kidding me?”
Mike Adams overheard the conversation on his way past the cubicles and stopped to put his words in.
“Don’t worry, Ivan. I got your back on getting serious. Chip only knows how to speed-date. He doesn’t know what getting serious is all about.”
Chip said, “Yeah, I know what it’s about, it’s about busting your ass prematurely for a wife and kids, that’s what it’s about.”
Mike shook off the personal slight. He said, “Just imagine if your dad had thought that way. You possibly wouldn’t have made it here.”
“Actually, my dad had me when he was thirty-five, so I’m right on schedule. Maybe I’ll even wait until I’m forty-five,” Chip teased.
Ivan grinned and said nothing. He was admiring his curveball. He did think of telling Dwayne Bellamy as a member of his core audience of African-American professionals over twenty-five, but since Dwayne was a middle manager, he was not safe to trust. Furthermore, Dwayne had previously kept his race a nonissue, so Ivan had no idea where he stood on color codes or social settings away from work.
On the way out of the office at slightly past five, John Hutch caught up with Ivan at the elevator and gave him a word of advice.
Jeff looked at Paul and didn’t see a problem with it. They both had ideas for traffic already.
Paul looked back to Jeff and nodded.
“All right. We could do that,” Jeff agreed.
They then discussed putting everything in writing to sign for their next meeting.
Jeff stood up from his chair and said, “Okay, since we’re officially gonna be in business with each other, we can show you our lab now.”
Paul stood up with him, and that made Ivan stand.
“Follow us,” Paul told him.
They walked into a basic college apartment of makeshift furniture, a large-screen TV, video games, and schoolbooks before they led Ivan into a darker, secluded family room. In the darker family room, they had three LCD screens, several computer towers, scanners, a color printer, a fax machine, CDs, DVDs, several office chairs, eccentric posters all over the walls, and plenty of gadgets, artwork, and books all littered around the room.
“And this is our lab, where all of our creativity comes out,” Jeff told him.
Their work space was five times more cluttered than what Ivan liked for his personal taste, but he wasn’t a graphic designer or webmaster. So whatever worked for them, worked for them.
Ivan smiled and said, “It’s amazing how different cultures can be so…” He searched for a word to use. “Different,” he said with a chuckle.
Jeff jumped in and said, “Hey, man, it’s all gonna come together one day,” and he locked the fingers of his two hands together.
Paul agreed with a nod. “Like The Matrix,” he commented.
Ivan grinned and held back his laugh. As long as they do what I need them to do, it don’t matter much to me, he told himself. They can talk about The Matrix all they want.
IVAN STILL HAD TO BRAINSTORM what his first party would be. So he called some friends who were members of the San Diego Urban League to meet up with him for lunch.
They met at Carol’s Soul Food Restaurant, a new establishment in Old Town, off of Interstate 5. The place was only a few exits south from where Ivan worked in North Clairemont.
“Now, when are you gonna stop messing around and join the Urban League, Ivan?” Thomas Jones asked him. He was an older black man in his fifties, with the enthusiastic energy of a thirty-year-old. He didn’t let the gray hairs of wisdom slow him down. He was a tireless believer in the old-time religion of black solidarity. Thomas wasn’t known to hold his tongue, either. He said what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it. So Ivan realized he wouldn’t be able to get around an Urban League membership.
He sat at a window-view table, enjoying barbecued ribs with Thomas and Henry Morgan. Henry was in his midthirties. He and Thomas worked for the same real estate firm. In fact, Thomas had recruited Henry a few months before attempting to recruit Ivan.
“How much is the membership again?” Ivan asked them.
“Fifty dollars to become a Young Urban Professional,” Henry answered.
“And what are my duties?”
“You don’t have any duties unless you want to become an officer, Ivan,” Thomas told him. “All we ask for you to do is come to the monthly meetings and participate in some of the community events that we organize.”
Ivan figured he had no choice. He had not joined the Urban League before, but now that he wanted them to help him, he would have to join them in some of the things that they wanted to accomplish. Business was business.
He nodded and mumbled through his food, “All right. I can do that.”
“Good. We’re glad to finally have you on board,” Thomas told him. “Now, what’s this new promotion business you were telling me about?” he asked before stuffing his mouth with ribs.
Ivan wiped his fingers and lips with a napkin before he spoke. “I want to start organizing events where we can pull together—you know, different people from San Diego’s black business community.”
Henry looked at him, confused. “That’s what we do in the Urban League. You’re trying to start your own Urban League now?”
Ivan smiled it off and was ready to explain his ideas again. “Well, it’s not just the business community, but the black people of San Diego in general. I wanna give them different places and events where they can come together and enjoy themselves for a few hours. And what I would do is use my website to promote the events and give spotlights to the movers and shakers of black San Diego. I can even set up an events calendar page to push the Urban League meetings.”
That gained Thomas’s full attention. He nodded and said, “That makes good sense. So basically, you wanna be a San Diego mixer man.”
“Whatever you wanna call it,” Ivan told him.
Thomas looked around their surroundings and said, “Well, you can start that with this place right here. They’re in the middle of a bunch of Spanish restaurants. Carol could use an event here. And I know her personally.”
Ivan nodded, thinking it over. He said, “I’ve always liked the Old Town area. It’s in the perfect spot, right off the highway and only minutes away from downtown.”
The restaurant had a nice size to it, with paintings of African-American historical figures on the walls. Since the furniture was lightweight and modern, Ivan figured they would have no problem rearranging the place for dancing if they needed to.
Thomas moved on the idea fast. “All right, well, let me introduce you to Carol, then.” He stood up from their table and waited for Ivan to follow him back toward the kitchen area. He hadn’t even finished with his food yet. He addressed one of the cooks, who was wearing a white apron and a hairnet.
“Hey, Jesse, let Carol know I got somebody out here to meet her. He wants to throw a networking party over here in a couple of weeks.”
Jesse heard that and started smiling from behind the tall counter that separated the customers from the kitchen. But Ivan didn’t even have a date yet.
“All right, that’s good. I’ll go and tell her,” Jesse commented.
When he disappeared farther into the kitchen, Thomas looked back at Ivan and grinned.
“That’s a good idea you came up with, Ivan. Perfect timing, too. I was just telling Carol we need to do something for her over here. All I was doing was telling people about the place. But if you promote a big party…now, that’s something different.”
Thomas was moving full steam ahead with things, but Ivan still needed to calculate it all. How could he make any money off of it?
Will she let me charge people to get in? I wonder how much she makes on a regular Thursday night. He surely didn’t want to compete on a weekend. Thursday night was a safer bet.
Before he could finish thinking it over, Carol Henderson, an attractive reddish brown woman in her sixties, with dark eyes and long salt-and-pepper hair, moved out of the kitchen office to meet the young man who wanted to throw a party to promote her new establishment. Thomas told her all about him.
“Hey, Carol, this is Ivan David, a young accountant out of Los Angeles, who went to school down here at San Diego State. He works with the big accounting firm of Hutch and Mitchell. But now he, ah, wants to start promoting parties to spotlight black businesses in the San Diego area, to help bring us all together.”
Carol set eyes on him and was pleased already. Ivan had a colorful look that stood out in a crowd.
Carol nodded to him and gave him some of her own history. She said, “It took a long time for my children to convince me to open up this restaurant. But I just told myself that I would do it now before I’m no longer here. And that way I can give my children something that they can continue going with.”
Her easygoing talk and position as the family matriarch made Ivan rethink his business ideas. He immediately wanted to help her out and make her proud of her decision to open a restaurant. He had just made the same decision to reach for higher goals himself, only he was less than half her age. She even reminded him a little of his mother.
Yeah, I got plenty of time to make money, he told himself. So let me just go ahead and put on a good event to start pushing my name.
He took Carol’s soft hand in his and made his pitch. “Well, at I.D. Promotions, what we want to do is identify community people and businesses who deserve attention. And I’ve always liked Old Town. So I’m glad we have a business like yours in this community.”
Carol was speechless, just staring at the young man. His sincerity and colorful eyes were mesmerizing.
Thomas looked over at Ivan himself and held back his thoughts for the moment.
Carol told him, “Well, whatever you need from me, just let me know.”
Ivan had to hold his tongue. She was giving him an open door to ask her for a cover charge for a Thursday. But how would she respond to that? Would she think of him as a charming snake and kindly chase him out of her garden? Or would she view it as simple business and take a chance with it? And what would Thomas think?
With all of his thoughts running through his mind at light speed, Ivan opened his mouth and said, “Well…what I want to do is promote an ‘Old School Eat and Greet After-Work Jam at Carol’s Soul Food Restaurant in Old Town.’”
Thomas heard that and shortened it. “An ‘Old School Eat and Greet Jam at Old Town’? I like that. But what kind of ‘old school’ are you talking about, your ‘old school’ or my ‘old school’?” Thomas teased him.
Ivan smiled. He said, “I’ll tell the DJ to make sure he mixes it all in.”
Carol continued to look him in his eyes. “Well, you just let me know, and whatever you need, we’ll set it all up for you. Okay, honey?”
Ivan nodded to her. “Okay.”
And that was it. It was a done deal.
Thomas walked Ivan back over to their table and chuckled to himself on the way.
“What’s so funny?” Ivan asked him.
Thomas stopped and looked him in the eyes. Then he whispered, “Now, Ivan, I’ve been selling real estate for twenty-two years, and I know good bullshit when I see it. So I’m standing here the whole time, thinking to myself, If Carol was just twenty years younger, she’d be all over your yellow ass.”
Ivan started smiling and shook it off before Thomas could finish.
Thomas said, “Now, you wait until you meet her daughter. You all could pass for family, outside of them light eyes of yours.”
Despite their laughter, Ivan got down to business. He said, “Well, what I’ll need from you, to pull this thing off, is an email list of people to invite.” He stopped himself short of naming the Urban League. He figured he would let Thomas make the connection for himself. Thomas also knew black professionals who were not members of the UL.
Thomas took the bait and said, “Oh, don’t worry about that. I got all of that. But I’ma tell you what, Ivan. I think that accounting thing, with you sitting behind a damn desk all day, was the wrong career for you. You need to be out here in front of people. I can see it now. You real easy on the eyes and quick on the conversation. That’s why I tried to get you to sell real estate years ago.
“But you gon’ do good at this promotions thing,” Thomas continued as they reached the table and sat back down. “You mark my words.”
IVAN EVENTUALLY worked out a deal with Carol and her business-savvy daughter Ida to charge a five-dollar “donation” that he would share with them after the party. He didn’t have the ice in his veins to ask for a full cover charge yet. And just in case his first event was a dud, he wanted to make sure he still had something to offer them for their efforts.
The total expense of the party, including promotional flyers, email blasts, and website updates, was close to eight hundred dollars. Two days before his first big Thursday event, Ivan sat alone at home inspecting the artwork of his first promotional flier. He was very pleased with it.
The flyer mimicked the initial idea that Paul had come up with in his mock-up drawing. On the back of the flier, Ivan allowed them to promote their plan to pull in a broader San Diego email list through the website. So Paul and Jeff enlarged the IDPromotions.com brand across the back, with “Who are you?” slanting across the top left corner, “What do you do?” slanting across the top right, and “Let us know!” across the bottom.
Ivan had to admit that it was a clever idea. They had street teams passing out fliers all over the city. Once they attracted high traffic to the website, they had all the right questions set up to collect the needed data.
The biggest decision was whether or not Ivan wanted to promote himself on the site. But he decided not to. He wanted to get his promotion business off the ground first. He forced himself to rationalize that it wasn’t about him yet; it was all about the promotions idea.
As soon as Ivan set his flyer back in the pile of a hundred or so that sat out on the coffee table in front of him, Catherine Boone called him on his cell phone. She had gotten the job in Oceanside and was moving back to San Diego that same week. She was extra excited about it.
“Isn’t this perfect timing, Ivan? I fly into San Diego on the same day that you kick off your first party,” she told him.
Ivan wasn’t as excited. Just as Thomas had told him, Carol’s daughter Ida was a good-looking match, and he looked forward to working with her. However, if Catherine showed up, with her familiarity with him, along with her control issues, he figured she would get in the way of his plans to charm Ida.
“Does your flight get in early enough for that?” he asked Catherine. He hoped that it didn’t. Or at least that she would cut it close. That would leave him no time to worry about her.
Catherine answered, “Yeah, I land at eleven in the morning. I wanted to make sure I had enough time to get in and get settled. I got my outfit and shoes ready and everything.”
Ivan said, “Yeah, well, you know I won’t have time to pick you up or anything—”
Catherine cut him off. “Ivan, please, I know that. I have a rental car set up. I mean, it’s not as if I’m unfamiliar with San Diego. I know how to get around. Old Town is right off the damn highway.”
She was biting his head off with her assertiveness already. He could just imagine the amount of his time she would want to consume at the event. So he hated the idea of her being there.
I’m just gonna have to be frank with her, then, he told himself. Any attempt to beat around the bush with Catherine would be in vain. The woman didn’t respond well to hints.
Ivan said, “Well, I’ma let you know right now, when I’m doing this party, I won’t have time to be locked up in a corner somewhere. I need to be able to meet and greet with people.”
Catherine paused for a second. “So, what are you trying to say, Ivan, that I’m gonna be all over you or something? Because it’s not even like that. I just want to see you pull this thing off as a friend. But if you don’t want me to come, then just let me know.”
Ivan was already shaking his head and breathing deeply to compose himself. He said, “Catherine, I’m just letting you know beforehand that my attention is all on this business right now, and I don’t want you getting your feelings hurt or being offended by me not paying enough attention to you.”
“Ivan, what did I tell you inside the hotel room when you left me to go to that party?”
He remembered it like it was yesterday. “You told me you were a grown fucking woman.”
“And that’s what I meant,” she told him again.
Ivan nodded with his cell phone in hand. “All right.”
WHEN THAT THURSDAY ARRIVED, Chip Garrett was more than curious to know why Ivan was dressed so nicely and why he was rushing around the office to leave an hour early.
“What you got going on tonight, Ivan? You’re obviously dressed and ready to do something.”
Ivan wore a navy blue pin-striped suit to work that morning, with black leather shoes, a stylish multicolored tie, and a baby blue dress shirt. He had gotten a fresh haircut that Wednesday. But he was still hesitant to let anyone at the office know too much about his promotion plans, especially while he was just getting his business started. He didn’t know how the bosses would respond to any gossip about it yet. And with Chip complaining about their workload, Ivan didn’t want to add any fuel to the fire about his moonlighting with a new hustle.
“I’ll tell you in a few more months after I see if this goes anywhere with her first,” Ivan insinuated on purpose. He never had come clean with Chip about his new business plans. They had so much work around the office that Chip forgot to ask him again. But when Ivan began to mislead him about a woman, his teammate in the tax department looked surprised.
“What, all this over a girl? Are you kidding me?”
Mike Adams overheard the conversation on his way past the cubicles and stopped to put his words in.
“Don’t worry, Ivan. I got your back on getting serious. Chip only knows how to speed-date. He doesn’t know what getting serious is all about.”
Chip said, “Yeah, I know what it’s about, it’s about busting your ass prematurely for a wife and kids, that’s what it’s about.”
Mike shook off the personal slight. He said, “Just imagine if your dad had thought that way. You possibly wouldn’t have made it here.”
“Actually, my dad had me when he was thirty-five, so I’m right on schedule. Maybe I’ll even wait until I’m forty-five,” Chip teased.
Ivan grinned and said nothing. He was admiring his curveball. He did think of telling Dwayne Bellamy as a member of his core audience of African-American professionals over twenty-five, but since Dwayne was a middle manager, he was not safe to trust. Furthermore, Dwayne had previously kept his race a nonissue, so Ivan had no idea where he stood on color codes or social settings away from work.
On the way out of the office at slightly past five, John Hutch caught up with Ivan at the elevator and gave him a word of advice.
