David finds out why an excellent consultive salesperson may have a difficult time maintaining existing accounts.

The next morning, I cleared some time and went down to the twenty-second floor. On the way to Ann Lansky's office, I passed Kevin sitting at his desk, phone at his ear, hands on the computer keyboard.

"May I speak to Larry O'Toole? Hi, Larry. Kevin Duttz here with Elemenco. How's it going today? Great. What's the weather like in Danville?"

Another day, another dollar for Kevin.

Ann was waiting for me in her office. "How did things go yesterday with Kevin?" she asked.

"I learned a lot," I said. "Tell me, is he really one of your best salespeople?"

Ann turned, took a computer printout off a shelf behind her desk, picked up a pen, and underlined a row on the sheet.

"Here. Numbers don't lie," she said.

She tossed the printout to me. She was right. For the previous four quarters, Kevin had been the third best sales rep in the office in terms of volume.

"Why do you ask? Did he screw up or something?" she said.

I really didn't want to get Kevin in trouble with his boss, so I worded my reply carefully. "I thought he could have been more effective on one of his calls."

And I explained a little about what I meant. Ann said something about everybody having an off day. I allowed that was certainly true, but then I asked, "Just how is it that Kevin was given Sternholtz and his trucking company as a prospect?"

"Simple. All-Points Express is in Kevin's territory. Dave, I have organized this office exactly the way that Gene Cherson directed all of us to do, and that's how we operate," said Ann.

"I see. Well, I'd like to work with one of the other people you mentioned yesterday. Can you set that up for me?"

"Sure, no problem," she said. "In fact, Jennifer Hone is here today and I already talked to her about you. Why don't we go meet her."

Jennifer was at her desk reading a presentation proposal that was probably fifty pages long. A stack of other copies sat on the corner of her desk. In another corner, Beethoven played softly on a portable CD player.

She was a woman I'd call handsome: clear-skinned, high cheeks, dark hair cut short, gray eyes, not much makeup, fairly tall. Overall, she looked like she had walked out of a page from Dress for Success. She wore a good-quality navy blue suit, hemline just below the knee, and a high-necked white blouse. I guessed she was in her late twenties or early thirties. Ann introduced us.

"Glad to meet you," Jennifer said. "Have a seat. I read the announcement that you're filling in for Gene Cherson. Is that right?"

"That's right," I said.

"Gee, that was terrible what happened to Mr. Cherson, wasn't it? Did you know him very well?" she asked.

"Yes, it was. And, no, not really."

"Have you been with the company long?"

"Just came in last week."

"Oh. Where did you work before?"

There were five or six more questions like that, all rapid-fire, but pleasant, as if she were just making conversation. I went along with it, and in a couple of minutes, she had learned that I had worked closely with Morrison, that I had worked in California at IJK, that I had started out in engineering, then had gone on to business. I suddenly realized that she knew a heck of a lot more about me than I knew about her.

"What about yourself ?" I finally asked. "Have you been with the company long?"

"Oh, about five years now," she said, and then deftly resumed her own questioning. "So Ann tells me you want to work with some salespeople. Is there anything in particular you'd like to accomplish?"

"Just want to get a firsthand impression of how we're dealing with our customers," I said.

"It so happens that I have a customer presentation this morning about half an hour from now," she said. "You're welcome to sit in if you'd like. In fact, the customer will probably enjoy meeting you."

Ann left us then, but said she'd rejoin us for the presentation. Jennifer handed me a copy of the presentation proposal.

"Who's the customer?" I asked.

"MorrMart," she said. "I've got them interested in a 720 Network."

I had read about MorrMart in one of the business magazines. It was an expanding department-store chain that had made a name for itself by offering service that was a cut above the rest. They had store employees whose only job was to help you find the right merchandise, in-store displays that explained product features, faster checkout, a supervised play area for kids, those kinds of "little" things.

"They'd sure look good on our customer list, if they keep on growing the way they have in the past few years," she said.

"Who's coming from their side?" I asked.

"There will be three men from MorrMart," she said. "Richard Newlberg, Fred Carver, and John Joplin. Richard is president of MorrMart. Fred is vice-president of store operations. And John is head of technical services, what passes for management information systems in their organization."

Richard and Fred, she explained, knew their own business, but didn't know very much about telecommunications or computer systems—and didn't care to. So far, they had built their chain by emphasizing the human element, and had cut corners on technology. Now that they were getting big, inadequate systems were costing them. They were smart enough to know they needed a much more sophisticated system than what they had but didn't understand what it meant to be sophisticated.

"I've been talking to them for a couple of months and I've heard all kinds of horror stories," Jennifer said. "Like merchandise gathering dust in the warehouses while store shelves are empty. And discovering that their store in Minneapolis has a two-year stock of suntan products while the Miami store is sold out. Things like that. When they only had a dozen stores all in one region, they could see and correct those kind of things fairly quickly, but now that they have a hundred stores, the mistakes are covered up easier and they cost a lot more. And I think we can help them, but they need somebody to educate and lead them through this. I've had to spend a lot of time with them just explaining the basic concepts they need to understand."

"What are they using now?" I asked her.

"A Bridely Star System."

I knew immediately why they were unhappy. Bridely was a big competitor of Elemenco, even though technically Elemenco was superior in most areas. Bridely had been strong back in the 1970s and early 1980s, especially in word processing and data base management. They offered licensed software that was easy for secretaries and clerks to learn and use. But their Star System was anything but a star in terms of performance—slow, menu-driven, inflexible, awkward for anything but routine tasks, designed for bureaucrats and people who were afraid of computers. True, it was reliable and simple to use, but not what you'd pick if you had some technical savvy and wanted the best performer.

"I happen to know," said Jennifer, "because I saw a new proposal on Fred Carver's filing cabinet, that Bridely is still courting them. But I think they may be leaning toward us."

"Good. What do you think will win them over?"

"Bridely doesn't have anything to compete with a 720 Network. I think that once they really understand the capabilities of the 720, they'll sign up with us. Now, of the three, Fred Carver is the hottest on Elemenco. Fred wants a system that will give them a competitive edge. He wants to use it for everything from picking locations for new stores, to making merchandise decisions, to planning and forecasting. But Richard is the one who has to be sold."

"What about the other guy, John?"

"John's opinion has to be considered, but he's the one who's been recommending Bridely, so he's not real popular right now. I've talked to John at length, and he's coming around, but he still seems to be down here someplace."

She waved her hand about waist level.

"He just can't seem to grasp why they should dump their Star System, and he's very loyal to Bridely. So I'm not sure he won't try to swing them away from us. But Richard and Fred are really the ones who will make the decision."

About then I noticed that I was actually getting excited. For one thing, a 720 Network, to me, is a heck of a lot more interesting than the computer cable and such that Kevin had been selling most of yesterday. For another, this was a potentially big sale to a big customer, and that in itself was exciting.

Jennifer looked at her watch and decided it was about time for us to get ready. We walked down the hall to the conference room. Inside was a long, oval, polished wood table and about a dozen padded chairs. Color monitors were set up in the corners and there was a podium to one side. Two guys were in the room, both of them engineers as it turned out, one at a computer terminal in a back corner and one seated at the table, looking over some schematics.

"We were in here at seven o'clock this morning rehearsing everything," Jennifer said.

A phone by the door rang. It was the receptionist calling to tell Jennifer that the customer was here. Jennifer went out to greet them. Ann arrived a few seconds later and the two of us, along with the two engineers, made an impromptu reception line by the door for the MorrMart people.

Richard, the president, was tall and tanned. He wore a crisp, perfectly tailored dark suit and a silk tie. He had a serious, no-nonsense look on his face.

Fred was more folksy looking. Rounded shoulders. Bald spot on the top of his head. Fairly short. Suit a bit rumpled. But very energetic, excitable. Big grin when he shook hands.

John was a skinny, rather nerdy-looking guy. Brown suit with a brown and gray tie. Pants loose around his skinny hips. Slick black hair a little too long in the back, receding hairline. Wire-rimmed glasses sitting on a big nose.

Richard and Fred sat together, John took a seat opposite them, and the rest of us filled in around them, with Jennifer taking the seat at the head of the table, next to Richard.

The first thing John did was open his proposal and flip to the back to see if there was a price list. (Which there was not. Jennifer had that on a separate sheet.) John tried to make a joke about it—"Guess it all must be free; they don't have any prices in here"—which Jennifer ignored.

She was directing most of her attention to Richard, chatting and smiling. I noticed that she was doing with Richard what she had done with me. In a casual, inoffensive way, she was asking questions to garner information that might be useful later on. Ann and I joined in the conversation.

"Well, we have quite a few things to show you this morning, so why don't we get started," Jennifer said finally.

She went to the podium and one of the engineers went back to the computer terminal. The lights dimmed. Up came the MorrMart logo on the monitors and, with some slick animation, the Elemenco logo joined it on the screens.

Jennifer didn't even talk about the 720 Network for the first ten or fifteen minutes. She talked about MorrMart, about inventory control, about the national expansion, about all the things MorrMart needed to grow. She worked in a couple of case histories, mentioned the other big-name customers we had, reminded them of things she had no doubt said in earlier meetings. Then she talked about the 720 Network—not as a product by itself, but as the key element of "the Elemenco Team Solution."

Her manner was knowledgeable, competent, professional. She had shapely, attractive hands and she used them effectively, gesturing for emphasis, pointing out specific things on the computer monitor.

"One of the most powerful things about a 720 Network is its GIS features," she told them. "What is GIS? Well, GIS can combine maps and other geographic information with marketing and inventory data to enable better management decision making. Let me show you."

Up came a map of the United States on the computer monitor.

"We've taken data that you at MorrMart gave us a few days ago and entered it into the system," she said. "Which means we can give you a picture of MorrMart's current operations."

Pop. There were all of MorrMart's stores on the map.

"Now we can add data to give you different perspectives on MorrMart's performance," she said. "For instance, let's take a look at each store's operating profit per square foot."

At that, the size of each store on the map then either increased or decreased relative to its profitability compared with all the other stores.

"We can zoom in to look at a particular region in detail."

And that's what happened on the screen; we were now looking at the greater Chicago area and the central Midwest.

"Let's say you want to know if you should adjust your inventories," she said.

Behind us, some clicking of the keys on the keyboard.

"Let's take a particular product, like televisions."

Up came a little TV icon next to each store, and next to each icon, a number representing how many days' supply of televisions the store had.

"As you can see, your Madison store has about an eight-month supply, while your Springfield store is—or was—nearly out of stock," she said.

Fred sat up. "Is that accurate?"

"Well, as I said, this is based on data you gave us a couple of days ago. But if you have this kind of system, we can add satellite telecommunication features that would give you up-to-the-minute data on every store," said Jennifer. "Your information at headquarters would be as current as the store manager's."

Fred had already started jotting down a note on the pad in front of him.

"You're going to check Springfield on that?" asked Richard.

"Damn right I am," said Fred.

He tore off the note and put it in his shirt pocket.

"Well, you just saw one of the advantages of the 720 Network's graphics," said Jennifer. "The meaning of the data is more obvious than it would be as just a column of numbers. Fewer things slip through the cracks. Now let's say you want to build a new store in the Chicago area. We can add demographic data."

Clicking keys. The map broke into colored sections of bright red, magenta, yellow, green.

"This shows you average household income by municipality." Jennifer went on, showing them overlays of interstate highways, commercial real estate, and property prices (simulated, of course, but it got the idea across).

Well, they were impressed. You could see it on their faces. Hell, I was impressed. I'd heard and read about this kind of thing, but this was the first time I'd seen it done with my own eyes.

"That's great to be able to have it all combined like that," said Richard.

The lights came up, and Jennifer sat down. Now it was time for questions. First to jump in was John. He began asking a bunch of questions. Our technical guys fielded them one by one. It was soon clear that John didn't know very much about this kind of system, but he was intrigued by the possibilities. He was not trying to trick us with his questions; he was trying to learn—and yet not appear too ignorant in front of his bosses.

Fred asked Jennifer if it was possible to combine such-and-such information with some other kind of data.

"We can customize the system to give you whatever you need," she said. "Elemenco is the only company that can provide satellite telecommunication with this combination of geographic and market data features. You'll get these kinds of capabilities only with us."

Jennifer was good. She made us sound like the experts, like competent professionals. But what impressed me the most was that there was no aspect of this presentation that she had not choreographed. As much as any human being could know, she already knew what every person on the customer's side wanted and didn't want, what each was afraid of, what each welcomed. She had made a special effort to customize it to their interests. How different Jennifer's style was from Kevin's, who seemed to use much the same approach with everybody.

"Okay, what's all this going to cost us?" asked Richard.

"I thought you'd want to know that," said Jennifer, "so I prepared this for you."

From a folder, she took out some sets of paper on which I could see a list of items and numbers.

But before passing the price sheets around, she said, "When I tell them about the 720, some of our clients ask me, ‘How is this system going to save us money?' My answer is that a 720 Network will not save you a dime. If all you want to do is save money, this is the wrong system for you. Now I can give you a good price on machines that will let you do what everybody else has been doing for the past five years. If, on the other hand, you want a competitive edge to help your business to grow, if you want a capability that will enable you to do things you can't do now, things that only a handful of other companies can do at present, then this is the right system for you."

Which, it seemed to me, was exactly the right thing to say to Fred and Richard, though possibly the wrong thing to say to John. Now she passed out the price sheets. I took a peek at the copy she gave me. The bottom line was about $5 million.

She went over what the price covered and didn't cover.

"Well, what about teaching people how to use the system? If we go with this, are we going to have to retrain everybody?" asked Fred.

"Your in-store systems should stay more or less the same," said Jennifer. "We will provide on-site training for all the people who are going to use the system, plus continuing technical support. It's covered in the price you see here and we'll be with you every step of the way."

That seemed to satisfy him, but he turned to John and asked, "What do you think?"

John clearly was nervous about the price. "It's a good system. No doubt about that. But I just don't know that we really need to go to these measures to accomplish the benefit," he said.

"How else would you do it?"

John said something about talking to Bridely about some additional bells and whistles for the existing system, but Fred cut him off.

"We've already seen their best, and they don't have anything like what we just saw," said Fred.

Jennifer was still mainly talking to Fred and Richard. "If this system saves you from putting one store in the wrong location, if it keeps you from making even one bad decision, think about what kind of return that is for you."

By now, John knew which way the wind was blowing and he relented. In fact, he was starting to get excited about this new technology he was going to get to play with.

Finally, Fred asked, "How much of an interruption are we going to have to our current systems in order to get this installed?"

From that point on, I knew we were going to get the go-ahead. Richard was sold. Fred and John were talking about logistics: how they would get certain parts of the system off line so the work could be done without interrupting operations, that kind of thing.

"What about a timetable?" asked Richard.

"Elemenco can start just as soon as you sign this," said Jennifer.

Out of her briefcase came a letter of agreement.

Richard grinned at Fred. "Looks like she's got all the answers."

Richard read it over, stroked his chin for about three seconds, then said, "Let's go with it."

"Very good," said Jennifer.

She handed him her pen. Richard signed. Ann Lansky signed for us. And Elemenco's revenues went up five million bucks. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

A day later, I went out with Jennifer on a couple of her afternoon customer calls. Her territory was in the western suburbs of the city and she drove us in one of the company cars.

I managed to turn the tables a bit and found out more about her as we drove. She had a computer science degree from Cal Tech and an MBA from Stanford. We talked about California wines and San Francisco restaurants for a while. Her father was a dentist in Sacramento, so she got back that way once or twice a year. I saw she was relaxing, getting more comfortable around me.

"By the way, I thought you were great yesterday with MorrMart," I told her.

"Thank you. I just hope I can give them enough of my time to make sure everything goes right."

"Is there any question that you won't?"

"Well, like everybody else, I've got a fairly big territory to serve and we only have so many hours in a day," Jennifer said. "According to policy, after I get the sale, I'm supposed to fade into the background and let the technical service people take over. I've tried to do that, but too many times I've seen it get . . . well, you know. I mean, after all, they're technicians and they're coming in after I've already spent a lot of time with the customer. They don't necessarily understand all the issues. Things get lost in the translation. There are misunderstandings. Sometimes we drop the ball. Sometimes the customer expects too much. I'll get called back to straighten things out, but by then there are hard feelings. Plus cost overruns and wasted money. I just feel it would be a lot better if one person stayed in charge from start to finish."

"You don't mind getting involved in the installation and the technical issues and all that stuff?" I asked.

"No, not at all," she said. "I'd even prefer it, in a case like MorrMart, if I had total control over the whole project. I don't know why, but I'm just the kind of person who likes to see things through to the end. Once we've got the system installed and everybody's happy, then I'm satisfied to move on. After all, I want to keep growing in my career; I don't want to be married to the same customers forever. At the same time, I see my job as being more than just getting a signature on a contract. I feel it's my professional responsibility to be managing the total interaction between Elemenco and the customer. Only that's not the way the management policy or the incentives are set up."

"Do you like sales?" I asked her.

"Yes, basically I do," she said, "though, eventually, I want to move into management."

"Oh? Not a bad career plan. More than one CEO has done it that way."

"I'm all right with doing this for a few more years, but then I'd like to move up into either sales management, engineering management, or maybe a corporate staff position."

"Okay, you know we've got a problem in sales growth. Aside from what you've just said, what kinds of things do you think we ought to be doing?"

"Teams," she said without hesitation. "I'd set up teams to handle the big customer accounts. Give the salespeople more access to the technical side. I'd start stressing the superiority in our technology. In fact, that's what I try to do in most of my sales calls."

"What do you think of the 800 line?" I asked her as she drove.

"Let me put it this way: Can you imagine Fred or Richard calling an 800 number when they want to buy a better system? I get my share from the 800 line. But they're usually a waste of my time. I feel they are, anyway."

"How have your sales been on some of our other products?" I asked her.

"Like what?"

"Well, take computer cable for instance."

"To tell you the truth," she said, "I don't get that many orders for it. I know it means income, and every little bit helps, but there are other products I feel we should push. I'll sell it if someone asks for it, but I really don't know why we bother with that kind of business. You've got to sell a lot of cable to make any real money."

"That's true," I said.

She got off the expressway, we went down a two-lane street, and she made a turn into an unpaved, gravel parking lot. In front of us was a huge concrete-block building with loading docks and a sign reading Midcontinent Warehouse Electronics.

"Well, here we are," she said. "If you wanted to see a routine sales call, this is it."

"One of your better accounts?"

She just sighed and shook her head. "They're in my territory, so I have to call on them. Besides, they've bought from us in the past."

"What are you going to sell them today? Another 720 Network?" I asked.

"No, they're a mail-order house. They carry our 386 machines, our modems, stock some types of our cable. And cellular car phones," she said. "They're always haggling with me over the price."

Under the sign was a windowless steel door. As she went in, I watched her expensive high heels step onto the dirty linoleum floor. Here was the same woman who closed a multimillion-dollar deal the day before, now walking into a warehouse. I guess that's what they mean by "comes with the territory."

Jennifer asked the receptionist for Mr. Antonelli, and the receptionist paged him on the loudspeaker. There was a window that enabled us to look out into the warehouse, with its racks and cartons of electronic merchandise stacked to the ceiling. Way down the aisle, a man in a white shirt, no tie, beltless slacks started walking toward us.

Antonelli took us into his office, which was lined with brown wood paneling and had dirty wall-to-wall carpet. Jennifer introduced me.

"What, they figure there's strength in numbers, they're sending two of you out to see me?" said Antonelli. "Well, it won't make no difference."

"What do you mean?" asked Jennifer.

"I've got to discontinue Elemenco," he said.

"When did you reach that decision?" she asked.

"Yesterday morning when I signed as a Mitsugami distributor. I tried to reach you by phone, save you a trip, but you were in a meeting or something," said Antonelli. "Look, your stuff is quality, no doubt about it, but it's got Elemenco prices on it. Mitsugami offers the same products, which perform the same as yours or better, and they're lower cost. I get a better margin. So what do you expect me to do?"

"Now, Mr. Antonelli, you have to remember that in Elemenco prices you're getting the benefit of our research and development, plus you're getting our technical support—"

This was not winning him.

"Look, Jenny, you're a nice lady and I like you, and it's all very nice for your boss here to stop by. But my customers are shopping for a low price, fast delivery, no hassles. We've got our own technical hotline in-house. Now, if you can knock 30 percent off your prices, maybe we can talk. Maybe. But I'll tell you something else, same thing I told you the last time we talked." He started waving a finger.

"Elemenco really honked me off when you went ahead and bought that retail electronics chain. That plus the telephone sales you've been doing—you're taking customers away from me and every other distributor out there."

Jennifer tried to argue that we were aiming for a totally different market, but Antonelli still was not buying. Finally, she looked at me.

I said, "I'm sure Jennifer has already given you the best deal we can afford. As for the rest, I'm sorry, but those are corporate decisions that we really can't change just for your benefit."

Antonelli threw up his hands. "There you have it then," he said. And we were out.

She had another call to make, at a company about ten miles away called Bennet Insurance. The contact was the computer services manager, a guy named Gary Bopoth. She told me while we were waiting for him to see us that she had delivered a proposal two weeks ago for a new interdepartmental computer network, to replace and greatly expand the network they already had. Good old Gary apparently had taken most of the meeting to prove to her that he knew more about computer networks than she did. Just when she thought she had finally got his ego massaged—irksome as that apparently was to her—his technical objections overcome, and was trying to close, Gary had insisted on thinking it over and talking to some other vendors.

"But I'm hoping I'll be able to close today," she said.

I could see trouble as soon as we got to his office. He was not smiling. His face was long, and he seemed bored and a little irritated. He also seemed confused and not at all impressed that I had come along. Jennifer went into her casual chat mode, trying to warm him up, but as soon as we sat down he cut her off.

"You'll have to excuse me, but I have a staff meeting in about twenty minutes, so we'll have to make this short and to the point," he said.

"Okay," said Jennifer. "What was your reaction to our proposal?"

"Not to be blunt or anything, but we're not going to go with your proposal. I've talked it over with my staff, and we think we can handle this in-house pretty well. So what we're going to do, instead of going one-stop shopping, is split things up and go with the best suppliers for each major component of the new system," said Gary.

This seemed to come as a surprise to Jennifer.

"Now we do like your 386 machines, because they've got a lot of features built in," Gary continued. "Even Bridely admits they're good machines. So we'd like to order eighteen of those. Here, I wrote up the specs for you."

He handed her a sheet of paper. Jennifer was remaining calm, but under the skin, she was furious.

"You're going with Bridely?" she asked.

"For the core system we'll be using," Gary said.

"Which one, may I ask?"

"We settled on the Bridely SuperStar Network."

Jennifer started shaking her head. "Gary, the system I specified for you will outperform SuperStar by any benchmark."

"Well, yes and no. Bridely supports all the industry standards. You have a lot of advanced features, but I know that could mean months of mucking around before you get everything running right. Plus a whole new learning curve for the users."

"We're offering training in the package," she said.

"It's still lost productive time. Besides, I don't need that aggravation," said Gary. "And from what I've been hearing, your network software has some significant bugs in it."

"We have a new version of that software coming out very soon, certainly by the time your hardware would come in," she said.

"Jennifer, I realize you put a lot of time and effort into our proposal, and I appreciate that. But I have to look at what's best for this company. The bottom line is I think we'll get better value doing most of it in-house and using Bridely as our primary supplier."

"But how could you judge their system to be superior?" she asked.

"Look, I know this company and I know its computer needs. To tell you the truth, your proposal outlined a system that, in my opinion, is overkill for us. It's got features we're not going to use—"

"I thought we agreed you'd need those features down the road," she said.

"After I thought it over, it just seemed that your proposal was like reinventing the wheel."

"Gary, I felt we didn't have any other choice," she said. "What you have in place here is outmoded even by today's standards."

"Jennifer, I specified the systems we have in this company," he said. "They're good systems."

I thought the battle of professional egos was about to flare anew, but Jennifer was smart enough to retreat.

"Of course, they're good, functional systems for today. But I was thinking about your future needs," she said. "I was thinking about what you need in order to grow."

Gary sat back, folded his arms. "I think I know what we need," he said. "And what I need from you, or want from you, are eighteen of your 386 machines, which we will configure on-site here in this department. Do you want the order or not?"

"Very well . . ."

"Now you're going to have to give me a unit price—"

"What I gave you was a system price," she said.

"You'll have to break it out then and get back to me," he said, "because that's all I'm really interested in buying from you."

It was clear the guy had made up his mind.

"All right," said Jennifer. "I'll get back to you tomorrow on that price. Is it okay if I just call it in to you?"

"I'd prefer it that way. Why don't you just fax it to me, in fact. We're very busy around here right now."

He stood up and we left. No handshakes, no smiles.

When we got to the car, Jennifer closed her door a little more loudly than she needed to. She was angry, but after she started the engine, she took a deep breath and made herself calm down.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," she said.

"So it goes."

"I put so much work into that proposal. It was a good proposal. And I know damn well what he did. He took our design, went to Bridely, and got them to give him a better price. I should have told him it was all or nothing."

She needed to let off steam, so I didn't voice any judgments.

"Bridely's been courting them for a long time. So in a way it doesn't surprise me," she said. "I know how Bridely operates."

"Yeah?"

"I started out with Bridely, trained with them. I'd probably still be there if I thought I could have the opportunities there that I have with Elemenco. Anyway, I know how they work. They do a lot of customer entertainment. They wine and dine their customers, take them golfing, treat them like gold. And they're never threatening."

"What do you mean?"

"They all act like a bunch of good ole boys. All buddy-buddy. I was told not to try to act like an expert, but just defer to the customer's judgment. You know, the customer is always right, so don't argue. Always play it safe. But their systems are really mediocre. Our stuff will run rings around all of it."

"That didn't seem to be what mattered to Gary," I said.

She sighed again. "Maybe I should have stroked his ego more. Done it the way Bridely taught me. But I don't know. That just isn't me. I mean, they're using 4.77 megahertz XTs, for God's sake, that are too slow . . ."

And she went on with all the dumb things that Gary and his people insisted on doing, things that Bridely no doubt would have agreed were just fine, as long as he bought their equipment. I let her talk.

Finally, when it had gone quiet between us, she said, almost to herself, "You know, it's funny, but I always do better with upper management than with the computer guys. It's like the computer guys always want to prove they know more than I do."

"Sounds like you ran smack into the not-invented-here syndrome," I said.

"That's exactly it," she said. "That's exactly it."

But that didn't change the fact that we had gained one customer and lost two others. One step forward, two steps back.