Luck runs in Patterns

It's an odd thing about luck: how it seems to run in patterns. That's the way it is in my life anyway. Not good and bad and good and bad, but more like a tide. Once things start to go wrong they seem to keep on turning sour until you're stuck down in the mud and hanging onto the jetty to stop from tipping over. And then maybe the moon changes or the stars line up or something and water starts flowing back underneath your keel. It was like that this morning; things went much better than I expected they would and I wanted to tell Chloe about it as soon as possible. About how I'd seen Bob Hanson down at the bank and how it looked as if they might give me a second bite at the cherry. Provided I could get somebody else involved in the business, somebody with a proven record in sound business administration.

Chloe listened to what I was saying and asked some questions. Sharp ones as well, right to the point. It occurred to me that I'd never actually gotten around to asking her what she did for a living. Maybe that sounds weird but I'd only known her for a day and a night - and boy, what a night! It's a strange story but I've already told it, so I won't rehash it again. Anyway, I ended up giving her the names of the business types I knew well enough to speak to and who had reputations solid enough to keep the bank from dropping me in the financial garbage disposer. There were four on the list and either I got one of them to commit to my company or the fat lady was going to start singing.

"OK, Rand, so give me those names again, will you?" "Sure: Ray Rice, Piet Schmued, Ken Tank and Ed Johnson. Anyone of them would do fine. The problem is that all of them are already making piles of cash with the companies they've already built up. I think I've got a marketing concept which is absolutely fantastic but I need more start up money to prove it, and I don't get the money without one of those names on the company letterheads."

"But if you've got it right the one who joins us will become very seriously rich?" "That's right, honey, we all will. But that's an act of faith right now." "Well, Rand, it sounds to me like we're going to have to seduce one of them." "What! What do you mean, us?"

"I'm sorry, darling, I'm getting all mixed up. What I meant to say was that one of us is probably going to have to seduce one of them into helping us out. After all, if we can't offer them any money and our stock options are only blue-sky, then sex is the only thing we've got left to bargain with."

I could just imagine the way she was smiling as she was talking to me but I had no idea as to whether she was being serious or not. So I asked her exactly that.

"Rand, of course I'm being serious. This is all about saving your business, isn't it? You don't think I'd joke about something like that, do you?""But, baby ... " "I mean, the only question is whose going to head up your company PR department? And unless one of your targets is gay and you've got some sexual orientation I'd be surprised to hear about, then I guess I'm the logical choice.""My PR department?" "As in pubic relationships, Randy. Or do you have somebody better qualified in mind for the position? After all, you're the boss, and I only do what I'm told - remember?" "Remember? I still can't believe that you put your tongue where you did when I told you to. But would you - like, with another guy - for me - I mean, for us?"

Her voice became huskier: "I'd be under the ground if it wasn't for you Rand, and I like to pay my debts. But what about these guys? Are any of them hunky and spunky?" I gulped and wished I could say they were all hopelessly ugly nerds. But Chloe was right, I needed to play every card in the pack and right now she was my only ace. "Piet Schmued," I answered reluctantly. "He's a big guy, played football at college, handsome as hell, always scored big time with the chicks. But he's married now."