I laughed warmly. “No, you probably shouldn't have,” I agreed with a chuckle. “Come on, I think the meeting's about to get started. Let's go find a seat.”
***
I was sitting at the back of the boardroom keeping as low of a profile as I could. To that point, I'd been pretty unimpressed with anything that had been presented. The line of athletic outdoor watches from the Harry Winston Company had been performing, quite frankly, abysmally in the market. I needed to know why, and I needed to correct it.
Jason had presented a few pretty decent ideas considering they’d only given him a couple days of notice, but none of them struck me as being revolutionary or bold enough to tackle the issue of poor sales.
The problem was, as I saw it, everyone was continuing to run with the same theme we already had running—a theme I had originally conceived, but also one that had not performed as I’d hoped. I’m not immune to falling a little short sometimes. However, this particular shortcoming was proving to be costly—not just financially, but also to the reputation of my PR firm.
I was about to quietly leave through the door to my left, feeling frustrated with the lack of creative ideas, when the next presenter stood and made her way to the front of the boardroom. I couldn't help but stare. There was something about this woman that hit me like a punch to the gut.
She was beautiful—that much was obvious—but not in a traditional sense. I didn't particularly care for “conventional” women and this woman was anything but conventional. My eyes traced her petite frame, admiring the generous curves she had in all the right places.
When she turned and looked up, her striking blue eyes mesmerized me. They captivated from beneath finely-arched eyebrows and a mane of jet-black hair, which was tied up impeccably for this occasion—very businesslike, but still begging to be untied and let loose. Her sense of style was unquestionable. This was a woman who knew just what to wear to grab everyone's attention, but not in a revealing way. Everything about her was just the right mix of formal and bold with a splash of sexy. I was intrigued from the moment I laid eyes on her—very intrigued.
I leaned back in my chair and grinned, aiming the smile at her even though I was fully aware she wasn’t looking in my direction and probably couldn't even see me while the projector shone in her eyes—which, might I add, gave them an almost ethereal sparkle.
She brought up the main image of the poster and billboard campaign we'd been running for the Harry Winston watches—the campaign I had created. There was a photograph of a rugged male model, who looked like a cross between Indiana Jones and the Marlboro Man, driving a jeep through a desert with a beautiful woman under his arm and a hunting rifle situated just so on the backseat.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she began as she pointed at the image on the projector screen with a laser pointer, “I would like to present to you a great, revolutionary advertising campaign.”
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I raised my eyebrows, as I'm sure everyone else in the room did. Then she delivered the punchline.
“Revolutionary and great if the year was 1982.”
A few uncomfortable chuckles rippled around the room.
“Allow me to be blunt,” she said flatly. “The watches aren't selling because this campaign sucks. It feels tired, it feels worn-out, it feels like it's been done a million times before. How many times have you seen images exactly like this one trying to sell products exactly like this one, only repackaged?
“And, that's what we're doing here, aren't we? There's nothing particularly revolutionary about the Harry Winston athletic watches, is there? Granted, they're beautiful and well-made, but the bottom line is that an athletic watch is an athletic watch. There's only so much variety one can have.
“And, as you all know, selling is all about marketing. It’s about the image that both the product and the company producing that product convey. That's what the customer is buying. They are not buying a watch; they are buying a lifestyle, a statement, an image. And to be perfectly upfront, right now the image and the lifestyle we're selling is the same old image that countless other advertising campaigns have tried to sell before.
“What sets this line of watches apart from those of the competitors? At the moment, not very much. That's why the Harry Winston Company pays us—the best damn PR firm in the United States—to handle this for them. And what have we done? We've let them down.”
She paused for effect, to let everything she'd just said sink in—and it did. After a few moments, she continued.
“Now that I've told you everything that's wrong with the current campaign, let me tell you what I think we can do to change it, and to make it actually work. First of all, we have to completely drop this Marlboro Muppet, Raiders of the Lost Dork shtick. It's lame, it's dated, and it's overdone.
“We need something new, something fresh, something crisp. Something that's going to sell this image, this lifestyle—because, remember, that is what we're ultimately selling the public on: not simply a watch. I've been thinking a lot about this, and I have an idea that will totally kick start the heart of this campaign. Not only revive it, but turn it into a full-on monster.”
I chuckled, I couldn’t help it. This unconventional woman had just proven that her appearance wasn’t all that was unpredictable about her. After all, she’d just thrown a Mötley Crüe reference in and I wondered if anyone else had picked it up. It seemed there was more to this woman than the serious, go-getter image she was currently projecting.
Still, as attractive as I found her, I wasn't there to think about that sort of thing. I needed to concentrate on her ideas. And over the next 20 minutes, she presented some excellent ideas on how to turn the campaign around. When she was done, I was more impressed than I had been by an idea in quite some time.
After the meeting was over, I waited at the back of the room for her to pack up her briefcase before I approached her.
“Hi,” I said, extending a hand. “I really enjoyed your presentation. You have some rather interesting ideas.”
“Thanks,” she said glancing up at me with a smile—immediately sending ripples of electricity coursing across my skin.
“I'm sorry, I don't think we've met,” she said. “I'm Lilah Maxwell, and you are?”
“Andrew,” I replied. “Tell me, do you really think Asher Sinclair's campaign for these Harry Winston watches is that, er, lame? I mean, he put it together himself and word is he’s pretty good at what he does.”
She shrugged. “Maybe he did, but I call things like I see them and I don't pull punches for anyone. Even if he is the CEO of Sinclair. And even if he is the genius everyone says he is, on this particular occasion, he dropped the ball a bit. It happens to the best of us.