The Art of Purring (The Dalai Lama's Cat 2)

“Seems to be working out well,” Serena said. “He’s slow, very slow, but meticulous. I’d rather have that than the other.”

“Quality control,” agreed Sam.

“His uncles have put the fear of God into him on that score,” said Serena.

“Which particular god?” Sam asked.

“All of them!” she said, chuckling. Despite having been brought up in India, Serena still found the variety of deities quite bewildering.

“I was having some fun with a spreadsheet …” Sam nodded to some papers on the table between them.

“Such a Sam line, that!”

“Really, I think even you will find this interesting,” he protested. “Over the past week I discovered a new trend in the spice packs. In retrospect, I suppose it was predictable, but I didn’t see it coming.”

Serena raised her eyebrows.

“Referred customers. And I’m not just talking local residents. We’ve been taking orders from friends of people who’ve visited the café. In one case, a delicatessen in Portland, Oregon, ordered twenty packs of every kind.”

“Bhadrak will be kept busy,” said Serena.

Sam realized that Serena still wasn’t seeing what was so apparent to him. “I think it could go beyond that. All this interest after just one Indian banquet and with no online promotion. We don’t even have spice packs among the items listed on our website.”

“Probably just a flash in the pan,” said Serena, shrugging. “In a couple of months the novelty will wear off and …”

“Or it could go the other way.” The new, bolder Sam had no trouble voicing a counterargument. “The second banquet could build on the momentum of the first. You could include a spice pack for each diner, first one free. Even more people would try and buy.” Picking up the papers on the table, he pulled out a page of projections and handed it to Serena.

“Look what happens if sales follow the same pattern as after the first banquet.”

“What’s this on the left?” Serena asked, pointing to one of the graphs.

“Sales in US dollars.”

Serena looked surprised. “And the red?” She indicated a line that angled upward sharply.

“That’s based on a conservative projection of what will happen if we promote the spice packs to everyone on the database.”

“Amazing!” Serena’s eyes widened.

“I haven’t even factored in anything else that may happen. Like if you were to get some publicity. Online promotion. Perhaps repeat orders from that deli in Portland or others like it.”

Serena sat up straighter on the sofa. “These figures …” She was shaking her head in amazement.

“Now can you see why I said it was fun?” he joked.

She nodded, flashing a smile.

“More than just fun,” Sam amended. “The

great thing about this is that it gets us into repeat business. Tourists will visit the café two or three times at most. They may buy a couple of books or gifts, and they’re done. But what you’ve created gives them the opportunity to, quite literally, keep tasting their holiday again and again.”

“Keeps the relationship going,” added Serena.

“Exactly!” Sam’s eyes were gleaming. “And more than that, look at the numbers.”

“I can see. With that kind of volume we’d need a lot more than a part-time Bhadrak and some visits to the market. I’d need to find a source to guarantee our spice supply.”

“Problems worth solving,” said Sam, urging her to flip to the final page, which showed revenues for the café and bookstore, plus projected revenue for the spice packs. “Just check out the bottom line.”