The Dating Plan(88)

“We can hire actors if we want a pretty face,” Liam said. “What about his personality? Can you work with him? What do his clothes tell you about his attitude toward business? Would he take direction well? Would he work hard? Is he committed?”

“He seems relaxed,” James whispered. “Do you think he’s stoned?”

“I would hope so, since he’s selling edible cannabis underwear.”

“Seriously?” James gave him a questioning look.

“No, James. Not seriously. Do you want to work with someone who’s always stoned? How much work is he going to get done? Is he going to be out pounding the pavement looking for distributors or is he going to be chilling in his office chewing on his Y-fronts?”

“That’s kinda disgusting.”

“And that’s the conclusion you should have come to when he told us they came in banana.”

Twenty minutes and twelve flavors later, he gave the inventor the usual send-off. “Thanks. We’ll be in touch.”

“Cool! Keep the samples.”

“Will do.” Liam had no idea what he was going to do with avocado-flavored cannabis Y-fronts, but maybe one day . . . “What’s next?”

James looked down at the schedule. “The Heash. A human leash so dogs can walk their owners.”

“This should be good. Bring him in.” Liam already knew the invention wouldn’t sell, but after a difficult week sitting at a desk staring at screens of financial reports and pressing Daisy’s number only to hang up before the call went through, he needed something to smile about. When the dude walked in with a giant dog collar around his neck, Liam almost felt like himself again. This was what he loved to do. Meet new people. Share their enthusiasm. Help them succeed. And, in the case of unfortunate inventions like the Heash, have a laugh. He just wished Daisy were there to share the moment. James was a nice guy but he didn’t have her biting wit or her sense of humor, or maybe it was just that nothing seemed as funny without her.

“We walk dogs. Why shouldn’t they walk us?” Heash-dude whistled and an immaculately groomed toy poodle walked in holding a leash in her mouth. She dropped it as his feet and barked.

“Beast loves to walk me.” He clipped one end of the leash to his leather collar, and the tiny dog took the other end in her mouth and bounded across the room to where James and Liam were seated, dragging the inventor behind her.

“I’ve met tons of dog owners who thought this was a great idea, so I thought I’d start my own business. I’m looking for fifty thousand dollars for a twenty-five percent interest in my company.” He handed sample Heashes to Liam and James.

Liam took care to give the invention a thorough inspection while Beast walked the inventor back and forth across the room. It was basically a human-size studded leather collar, complete with a D-ring closure. James put his on and snapped it closed just above his shirt collar.

“How do I look?”

“Fifty shades of ridiculous.”

James tugged on the Heash, but it wouldn’t open. His face reddened and sweat trickled down his temple. Liam dropped his head to his hand to stifle a laugh. “Never try a product that is going to get stuck, humiliate you, choke you, or make you gag,” he muttered under his breath. “You may think you’re doing them a favor, but really, they want to look up to you and they can’t do that when you’ve got a human collar fastened around your neck.”

“Get it off.”

“Are you sure? The Texan bartender I introduced you to at the Rose & Thorn would be absolutely delighted if you showed up in a collar and leash.”

“It’s a Heash,” James said, struggling with the clasp.

Liam fought hard to repress his laughter. “I don’t think she’d care what it was called if it meant she could walk you down the street.”

Liam tried to imagine Daisy’s face if she saw James with a collar around his neck. Likely no one would be able to tell what she was thinking, but he would know from the quirk of her left eyebrow, or the tiniest lift of the corner of her mouth. She also would think it wouldn’t sell, and he had to agree. Why not let the inventor know that up front so he could pursue other options?

“It’s an interesting product, but I think you’re looking at a very niche market,” he said at the end of the presentation. “Unfortunately, it’s not one that would fit our portfolio.”

Beast led the inventor out of the room, as if she understood the dismissal.

As soon as they were gone, Liam unfastened James’s collar and placed it on the table between them. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I met him at a club.” James rubbed his neck. “He said he’d had ten thousand dollars’ worth of online sales in the first month alone.”

“Did you check his financial statements and sales records? If he did move that much product, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t to the dog-loving community.”

When James didn’t answer, Liam sighed. “What’s next?”

“Liquefied ocelot poop for gardens. They call it ‘O Crap.’”

“Why ocelots?”

James shrugged. “Their poop is special?”

“Is that a question? Are you asking me if ocelot poop is special? Pass. Anything else or did I fly here from New York just to kill time?”