Chapter 4

Kyle sat at his desk scribbling on a yellow legal pad. He sensed a presence looking over his shoulder. "Oh, hi Freddie."

"Kyle -- don't forget the all-firm meeting today."

"How could I forget? Kirk wants me to give a talk."

"A talk? On what?"

"Interpersonal relationships."

"He may have forgotten about it," Freddie replied. "I caught a glimpse of his agenda and you weren't on it."

"Don't tell me that. I never catch that sort of luck. What is on the agenda?"

"Confidential," Freddie said. "I shouldn't have seen it myself except that Cory was careless. She left one in the copier. You know Kirk likes to spring surprises."

"Yeah, I do. That's why I'm bringing this anyway -- just in case." He held up the legal pad.

"I'll say this much -- Lisa White is back as apple of Kirk's eye."

"What do you mean?"

"Last week, Kirk was asking me about the feasibility of engaging a creative consultant for our ad campaigns. That could mean only one thing..."

Kyle nodded. "That he had grown impatient with Lisa."

"But, she came up with some new, hot ad campaign and is back in good graces."

"What campaign?" Kyle asked.

"I try to keep myself blissfully ignorant of that part of the business," Freddie replied. "I have more than enough headaches just keeping things running. Don't forget the meeting, Kyle."

"I won't -- I assure you."

Kyle headed for the trading desk and approached the firm's head stock trader. "Hey, Brad..."

"Hey, Kyle..."

"Brad -- can I borrow your Wall Street Journal?"

"You can have it," Brad replied. "I don't need it."

Kyle picked up the paper and spread it open on a vacant desk. He began flipping pages until his eye landed on a familiar logo. It was a half-page advertisement for Walnut Street Funds.

In their own words, Kyle read. Keneshaw Clinic... What followed was a brief but heartfelt expression of gratitude from the Chief Financial Officer of the clinic for the care, attention and results Kirk's firm delivered. The ad featured a photograph of the Kenneshaw CFO shaking hands with Kirk. Kyle smiled and nodded. Well, he thought. It looks like she used my idea after all.

Kyle filed out of the office along with his co- workers, carrying his yellow legal pad. They headed to an auditorium on the ground floor of their office building. Kyle found a seat in the back row and Jerry sat beside him. He saw Lisa enter, along with Kirk, Freddie and Cory. They all sat in the front row.

Freddie stood and pressed a switch to lower a screen. He then set up and adjusted an overhead projector.

Kirk stood and surveyed the assembly. "We'll give folks a couple more minutes and then we'll get started," he announced. Kyle watched as latecomers filed into the auditorium. The only available seats were in the lower rows.

Kirk stepped to a podium and tapped the microphone. "Okay -- let's get started..." His gaze swept over the seats in the auditorium. "Those of you who've been with us for a few years know that every so often we recognize an associate for some important achievement. We call it the Golden Laurel." He held up a plastic, imitation laurel crown that had been sprayed with gold paint. "That's what we're going to do today."

Kirk paused to let his words sink in. "Now ... how many here know about what happened to Jason Greenbriar?" He regarded the crowd. "Come on -- raise your hands ... More than half. How many know how big a bullet we dodged regarding this ... con artist? This crook? It wasn't a bullet -- it was more like an artillery shell we dodged. A big, sixteen-incher. We dodged a big one.

"For those who don't know, Jason Greenbriar has been hauled into court for fraud and market manipulation. They're throwing the book at him. I had been scheduled to appear on his program and we had built a huge marketing campaign around an association between our firm and Greenbriar. Of course, I was as astonished as anyone to discover the guy's a scammer. Can you imagine the harm that would've come to our firm had these events played out in a different order? As it turned out, we were able to cancel our ad program and put enough distance between Walnut Street Capital and Greenbriar so we came out smelling like roses."

Kirk paused again. "This ad campaign was the biggest media buy we had done to date. We had ads in local newspapers, national papers, the Internet. We had to turn on a dime and either give up the space we bought, or run another ad." He gestured to Freddie, who placed a slide of the squirrel ad on the projector. "So, this is what we ran."

Some giggles began to sweep through the auditorium. Kyle strained to see Lisa's expression but her face was turned from him.

"That was just a stop-gap. We needed something else -- something to tap into the Greenbriar constituency. And, we had someone in our firm come to our rescue." He gestured to Freddie, who replaced the squirrel ad with the Keneshaw Clinic one. "In Their Own Words is what we call this campaign. I don't know how many of you look for our media presence ... who know how it's evolved over the years." Kirk gestured toward the screen. "This campaign is genius -- sheer genius. It associates us with charities and organizations that do good. And, it associates these organizations with us; and we do good for them. It's a synergy -- a symbiotic relationship. These charitable shareholders of ours were more than happy to participate in this campaign -- for no compensation other than the visibility our ads give them. It's free advertising -- free for them and free for us. Our only cost is for the media space."

Kirk gazed at the screen for a moment and shook his head. "I'm still in awe of the brilliance of this concept. The ads are working. Our response rate is up twenty percent ... and our conversion rate is up thirty percent. Does everyone know what conversion rate means?" His gaze again swept over the attendees. "A little marketing talk -- conversion rate is the percentage of customers who respond to an ad that actually end up sending a check. This is what marketing is all about. You can have the greatest product in the world but no one will buy it if they don't know it exists. With ads like this, they know."

Kirk again paused to let his audience grasp what he had said. "We have a side-effect," he continued. "Other shareholders in similar situations have seen these ads and they are asking us if they can participate. They are asking US! They want the exposure, too. This is a campaign with legs. It is without a doubt the strongest campaign I have seen since we started marketing our funds."

Kirk looked directly at Lisa. "Lisa White is our marketing director. We hired Lisa about a year ago after a decision to bring it in-house. Prior to that we had been relying on free-lancers. Lisa is the architect of this campaign." He beckoned to her. "Lisa -- come up here. Come on -- don't be shy."

Lisa stood beside Kirk. He lifted the laurel wreath and placed it on her head. "Lisa White -- you are the latest recipient of the Golden Laurel." Kirk began clapping. "Come on, folks -- let's show Lisa our appreciation."

Applause began to swell in the auditorium. As it subsided, Kirk again stepped to the podium. "Lisa -- come here and tell us how you came up with this concept."

She stepped to the microphone. Her eyes searched the crowd and fixed on Kyle. "Well ... it was like this..." She bit her lip and drew in a breath. "Oh, Kirk -- I don't deserve this. It wasn't my idea -- it was Kyle's."

"Kyle?" Kirk replied. "Our technology guy?"

Jerry leaned to Kyle. "It was YOUR idea? How did BILF get hold of it?"

"Shut up," Kyle hissed.

"Yes," Lisa said. "Kyle came up with it and I'm a fraud and I don't deserve this. I don't deserve any of it!" She took the laurel crown from her head and dashed from the auditorium in tears.

Kyle jumped out of his seat and ran after her. He followed her to the elevator bank but the doors closed before he could join her. With his fist he pounded the call button and paced until another car's doors opened.

He rode to the fourteenth floor and sprinted into the Walnut Street offices. "Lisa!" he called. "Lisa -- where are you?" He headed for her cubicle but found it empty. Then, he noticed the door to the Blue room was shut. He rapped on it and opened it. "Lisa?"

She was sitting at the conference table, the laurel wreath crown and an envelope before her. Her forehead was propped in her palms, her elbows on the table and she was sobbing. "Lisa," he said.

"Go away! Leave me alone."

"Lisa -- what is wrong?"

"I took your idea -- that's what's wrong. You must be furious with me."

"I'm not. Lisa -- I was practically bursting with pride as Kirk described the impact of your campaign. I couldn't be prouder of you or happier for you."

"How can you say that? If you had taken my idea I'd have blown my stack."

"It might have been my suggestion," he replied. "You were the one who developed it -- who worked with the shareholders and the agencies and the media to make it happen. Who cares where the idea came from?"

"I care." She sobbed more. "Don't you see? I couldn't come up with it. I'm paid to come up with ideas and I couldn't come up with anything better than a stupid squirrel."

"You were too close to the problem," he replied. "It happens to me all the time with technology issues. Sometimes you need to stand back. Sometimes you need input from a third party. Sometimes you need someone to bounce an idea off. It doesn't make it any less valid."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"This isn't the week you're off the patch, is it?"

Lisa glowered at him and then slapped his face. "How dare you! Do you think everything is tied to a woman's raging hormones?"