The New Recruit

Fire was about to go into a sales appointment at a client’s home, and I was shadowing him that day. It had become my routine whenever I didn’t have any appointments of my own. He was being ever so good at mentoring me and reminded me not to make assumptions about the place or the client.

The client was a single man living in government housing.

In our company, the sales reps had their own unwritten assumptions: single men didn’t care enough about their health, and anyone living in government housing couldn’t afford our product.

Fire always said, “You must find the need. If there’s a need, there’s a sale.”

That was what we were trained to do. We went in looking for clues: allergies, children, pets, elderly family members—anything that might point to a need for healthier living.

Find the need, then make the sale. That was the mantra, followed to the letter.

But Fire’s point was that we had to look for those clues with an open mind. We couldn’t decide there was no need just because the client was a single man or lived in government housing.

Fire told me not to let those taboos affect me. They were just excuses people used when they couldn’t make the sale.

I shouldn’t decide for the client that he couldn’t afford the product, or that he wouldn’t care about living a healthier life. That was his decision to make, not mine.

“You, of all people, should remember that, right? You were the second person to strike a sale on their first solo appointment within a week after training.”

He paused and straightened his creaseless shirt.

“I was the first, of course.” He gave me a cheeky look. “But you did it in a government-housing unit. So, you’ve surpassed your teacher!”

“Remember what you’re selling,” Fire told me. “You’re not selling an expensive product that only well-off clients can afford. You’re selling a better, healthier way to live. You’re presenting a new lifestyle choice right in front of them. And anyway, everyone can afford it with our payment plans.”

He winked before pressing the doorbell.

That was Fire’s mindset. Don’t rule people out before you’ve even given them the chance to choose.

Then we went in.

The appointment went as smoothly as it could have. Fire took the lead, and I watched him work. He explained the healthy-living concept with his usual confidence, stating it as though it were a matter of fact. The client nodded in agreement throughout the demonstration. He was health-conscious and bought into it completely.

He bought the product. Another happy customer.

“And that’s how it’s done!” Fire declared triumphantly as we left the client’s place.

By the time we got back to Fire’s new car, he was already buzzing from the sale.

And the car was certainly helping.

It was a sleek, bright-blue SUV with dark windows and big alloy wheels. Posh, smart and unmistakably new. Blue was Fire’s favourite colour, so it suited him perfectly.

He was proud of that car. I could tell.

There was a self-indulgent side to Fire. He liked the good things in life, and he liked being able to enjoy them. It wasn’t something he tried to hide. In fact, I think that part of him was important. He wanted success, but he also wanted to enjoy what success could give him.

And right then, he had plenty to feel pleased about.

“Let’s go for a double celebration!”

The first reason was the sale. He’d made it despite the two taboos people used as excuses not to try.

The second reason was that Fire had finally persuaded a former colleague from one of the big telecoms and appliance chains to join us the following month.

He’d spent a long time trying to convince him to leave his successful managerial post and join us on the front line. The promise of earning good money early on had helped. It was the same pitch Fire had used when he recruited me.

Fire told me his former colleague had been the fastest-promoted manager at their branch and had an excellent record in shop sales.

I could hear how excited Fire was. A successful sale was good, but bringing someone talented into the business was another kind of win.

We went back to the office to finish the paperwork. It didn’t take long, and then we headed to the restaurant.

I didn’t think much about meeting his new recruit. I was just going out for dinner with my confident, good-looking team leader. A little treat for myself, while my soon-to-be ex-husband was leaving me to shoulder the responsibility of raising our four young children.

At that stage of my life, being surrounded by sales success and good-looking men was one of my highlights. My soon-to-be ex-husband had never been much to look at. What on earth had I seen in him all those years ago?

When we arrived, someone was already sitting at the table.

Fire introduced me as his latest shining star in the team. His praise was always welcome. I smiled politely, but inside, I was jumping for joy.

Then he introduced the young man.

Kace.

Young, sickeningly handsome, fair-skinned, with eyes that could talk and a mouth that seemed like a mystery. And on his right hand, a small ring on his pinky — the kind of detail I couldn't help but notice.

Gosh! Had I landed in my own little fantasy world, with a good-looking team leader and a drop-dead-gorgeous colleague-to-be?

I wanted to know what he had to say.

He nodded.

And said nothing.

I kept looking at him, trying to work him out. He was neat and quiet, and he had the sort of face that could probably make a good first impression when meeting clients at home.

That was useful, I thought.

About ten minutes into the meal, he’d said no more than two words.

Then Fire made a comment about never having met someone so loyal in love.

Kace looked down.

For a moment, I thought I saw sadness cross his face. His jaw seemed to tighten a little, too.

Odd. What’s that got to do with work?

I wondered if his boyfriend had left him.

That was my assumption anyway. Handsome, neat and quiet. I decided he must be gay. I may even have told Fire not to tease him, because I thought he was embarrassed about his ex or something.

I knew nothing about him yet. But my imagination was already busy.

Kace would be joining the company the following month. Fire said he’d attend training in a couple of weeks, and just before we left, Kace asked for my number. Fire had told him to call me if he needed anything during training.

“Me?”

Ah, right! I had another new recruit joining the same intake, and I’d be keeping an eye on my own recruit anyway. I was slowly building my own team, too. In our company, we recruited our own members, and the bigger our team grew, the more we could earn. So Fire decided I could look after Kace as well.

How convenient—for Fire! Our team leader preferred to play devoted husband and father whenever he could. And I was only a single mother of four kids, all under the age of seven, working twenty-four-seven.

Of course, I was the one expected to look after another recruit. I rolled my eyes.

I gave Kace my number, like a diligent team member following her team leader’s orders, and said goodbye to him.