"A sheik? Like a prince?" I sat up straighter at the table. I never thought I would meet royalty. The waiter came and whisked the empty escargot dishes away, placing a small bowl of sorbet in front of me. I looked up at Owen, confused as to why dessert was being served.
"It's a palate cleanser before the main course," he explained.
I nodded and took a taste. Sweet orange sorbet.
"So a sheik, huh?" The sorbet was gone in two bites. I hoped dinner was coming soon, because despite the escargot and now the sorbet, I was still hungry.
"Yes. Sheik al-Saffar owns a large portion of the oil fields in production currently. He is thinking of partnering with Jack's company, due in part to Jack's marketing success. My job is to convince him that, since I am the head of marketing, my team will sell his oil better than he can himself." Owen folded his hands neatly on the table in front of him as though he had just finished a business proposal. I leaned back thoughtfully in my seat.
"I have a feeling it's more complicated than that, isn't it?"
"You might have a future in this business, Kaylee," he said, a grin breaking across his face.
"Nah, I'm better suited to scrubs than suits."
The waiter returned, refilling our wine glasses and placing the main course on the table. I almost di
dn't want to eat it because it was so pretty. A small fillet of white fish sat perched on a bed of onion, fennel, and tomatoes with a sauce that I could only describe as heavenly. Small clams and shrimp dotted the plate, adding to the amazing sauce. I had heard the word bouillabaisse when Owen had ordered and was sure that was what the sauce was called. I could die happy if I only ate that for the rest of my life.
Owen smiled at my look of rapture as I tasted the food before he continued. "We are meeting with the sheik and his son to forge a personal relationship with them. A lot of these business deals are built more on whom you like than what you can do. Most companies can offer similar services, but what they can't do is the relationship. The sheik actually had an arrangement with one of our competitors, but he wasn't getting what he wanted, so he has come to us. We offer almost the exact same core services, but we are willing to give him that something extra he is looking for."
"So, you are the sales pitch, then. The relationship that he is looking for. He wants someone he likes to sell his oil for him."
Owen nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "You're getting it."
We sat quietly for a moment, each of us enjoying our food. Owen gave me a bite of his beef bourguignon, and I shared my fish with him. I was hungrier than I thought, because despite my best efforts, the fish was gone long before I was full.
"Earlier, you said, 'We are wooing'. Do you mean me, or the company?"
"You, actually. You will be able to help me quite a bit with this."
My forehead crinkled as I tried to figure out how I would be able to help. I was a medical professional, not a salesperson. Especially not an oil markets salesperson. Unless the sheik needed help controlling his cholesterol or fixing a broken leg, I couldn't see what use I was going to be.
Owen smiled at me, waiting for the waiter to serve the next part of our meal before answering. A small plate of different kinds of cheese sat between us, waiting to be shared. I tried them cautiously, but found their flavors were actually quite good.
"I have been invited to dinner with the sheik and his son, and was told to bring a guest. It is very common to discuss business matters over dinner, and as I am trying to forge a more personal relationship with him, this is the perfect opportunity to bring you along. If it goes well, there will be more dinners. More dinners means more opportunities to impress him." Owen watched my face carefully, gauging my reaction to his words.
"I'm not sure I'm going to be very good at this, Owen. I'm not good at selling things," I said softly. "I was the kid in elementary school whose parents ended up buying subscriptions to ten magazines and paying for entire boxes of candy bars because I couldn't get anyone else to buy them."
"Kaylee, you are beautiful and smart. You're easy to talk to and you can carry a conversation. You're perfect for this." Owen reached out and touched my hand, his confidence in me surging through our skin. I felt my cheeks redden at the compliments.
"Thank you. I just don't want to embarrass you. Or Jack's company."
"You could never embarrass me," Owen said softly, his eyes intent on mine. I felt another blush sear through my cheeks.
The waiter returned and Owen released my hand. The empty cheese plate was taken away and replaced with dessert and cups of coffee. A dark chocolate torte with a raspberry glaze for me and a deceptively simple peach tart for Owen sat like presents before us. I'm pretty sure I died and went to heaven with the first bite, and then again with every bite after.
"I'll do my best with the sheik, but I can't make any promises," I told Owen once the dessert was gone. I seriously considered licking my plate but decided that I was in too nice of a place to do so.
"I just want you to be you, Kaylee. I know you are going to be amazing," Owen said, his voice full of trust. I smiled and sipped on my coffee, a little nervous. I didn't want to let him down.
"If this all goes well, it would be really good for Jack's company, wouldn't it?" I asked.
Owen nodded. "It would be huge. I mean, Jack's company is already successful, but this would increase our market share by another third."
I felt a pressure settle on my shoulders. I knew that this was not my responsibility, but I wanted to make sure I helped Owen as much as possible. I was going to be the perfect dinner guest, even if I had to fake every word. I wasn't going to let Owen down.
"Brandy or cognac, mademoiselle?"