Page 15 of Love or Your Money Back

‘Yeah. That. Anyway. Look, you’ll never find a husband this way. Your sales technique is terrible.’

‘What sales technique?’

‘Exactly,’ says Freddy. ‘You’re just walking up to any Tom, Dick and Harry, handing out your business card. No screening at all. Anyone will do. What kind of brand message do you think that sends out?’

‘I don’t have a brand.’

‘Yes, you do,’ says Freddy. ‘We all do. And right now, your brand is having a fire sale. You look desperate. And that’s not going to work in a saturated market. Do you know how many single women in their thirties live in London?’

‘Of course,’ says Kat. ‘We sell books to most of them. They’re very much our target market.’

‘Then you’ll know that single women outnumber men at nearly two to one.’

‘Two to one?’ Kat looks a little sick. ‘That’s … wow. More than I expected.’

‘The worst thing you can do in a crowded market is present yourself as a low-demand product. Youhaveto be high demand.’

‘But I’m not high demand.’ Kat’s lip begins to wobble. Then, to Freddy’s horror, she starts crying. Hot, noisy sobs coupled with shoulder hunching and hyena noises.

‘Hey, hey,’ Freddy pats Kat’s hair like a little doggie. ‘Please don’t cry, darling. You’re making me feel … things I don’t want to feel.’

‘I have no chance against those odds,’ Kat sobs. ‘I’m going to die an old maid and be statistically unhappy.’

‘No you won’t.’ Freddy pats Kat’s head more rapidly, wishing she would stop crying. ‘Okay, so you’re an abysmally packaged product right now, sending out all the wrong messages to the wrong people, and –’

Kat lets out a howl, and Freddy rapidly backpedals.

‘But I can help you. I’ve turned products no one has ever heard of into household names. Once upon a time, Amazon was just some guy selling books from his bedroom. And don’t get me started on air fryers. Trust me, Kat. I can make you the most marriageable woman in London.’

Kat lifts her tear-stained face. ‘But what’s in it for you?’

‘Money, usually.’ Freddy gives a proud smile. ‘The King of Saudi Arabia asked my day rate, once. He couldn’t afford it. But if you let me make changes to Little Voice …’

‘No.’

‘Hear me out. We’ll keep your green printers, your unnecessary 10% profit donations to the British Library and your bike-to-work vouchers. Alright?’

‘What about my staff?’

‘Look, your staff –’

‘No deal.’

‘Okay, fine.’ Freddy knows a brick wall when he hits one. ‘We’ll keep all of your useless, overpaid have-no-idea-how-to-make-money staff. And I’ll focus on efficient structures to make them work better. The big changes I want to make are all about distribution, anyway. We need to start stretching our legs. Going global.’

‘But we’re only barely managing in the UK,’ says Kat.

‘Exactly,’ says Freddy. ‘Because you’re not focused on growth. If you’re not growing, you’re dying.’

‘I wouldn’t say we’re dying –’

‘You don’t have tosayanything,’ Freddy counters. ‘I’ve seen your see-saw profit figures. Look, just let me make changes without obstructions or arguments. Okay? It’s for everyone’s benefit.’ He smiles down at her. She does lookverycute when she’s upset.

‘And if I do that, you’ll help me get married?’

‘Yes.’ Freddy offers his hand, knowing verbal contracts never hold up in court. If he needs to put Kat’s overpaid staff out to pasture while making other changes … well, Kat will thank him eventually. Her gang of misfits won’t want to be at Little Voice once it functions well, anyway. They’ll have to do real work and he’s pretty sure they won’t be up for it.

Kat eyes Freddy’s hand. ‘I’ll think about it.’

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