Cole had joined him, which surprised me. He wasn't anyone's husband or boyfriend, so I had to assume he'd been upstairs too. He was taking up no more space than necessary, as if he'd spent a long time knowing exactly how much space he was allowed.
He wasn't watching the room the way Daemon was. He was watching one specific corner. I followed his sightline to where Sarah had set up at the end of the workbench, busy writing before anyone had said anything worth making a note of.
I stood in the center of the circle and looked around it.
Twenty people. Four of them were there because I'd called them directly. The rest because word moved through Coogan's Break the way it always did, quietly and fast, through people who trusted each other enough to pass it on.
"Thank you all for coming." I kept my voice level, the way I'd learned to when briefing people who were already anxious and didn't need the person in charge adding to it. "I think we all know why we're here. Before we go any further, I'd like us to know each other's specific situations. Because I suspect some of you have been dealing with things you haven't said out loud yet. And I think you should."
A beat of silence.
Then Skye set down her cup. "I'm happy to go first," she said. It was an ice-breaking strategy we'd worked on earlier, because no one ever wanted to go first.
She told it straight, the way she did most things. Elevate had approached two of her part-time bakers six weeks ago, offering full-time positions with a benefits package she couldn't come close to matching on a bakery margin. One had taken the offer. The other had stayed so far, but Skye could see her thinking about it every time she came in.
"The worst part," Skye said, "wasn't losing Gail. She needed those benefits. I understood. The worst part was that whoever approached her knew exactly what to offer. They'd done their homework. They knew she was a single mom. They even knew what she was earning. They came in with a number that was enough above what she needed to make the choice obvious."
The room was quiet.
"That's not recruitment," Kelly said. "That's targeting. I've seen it used in advertising when an agency wanted to poach creatives from a competitor."
"That's exactly what it is," said Bea. "Poaching. They did the same thing to two of my crew. Both have kids in school. Both got offers that covered school-hours flexibility and a healthcare plan. I can't offer either of those things, much as I’d like to."
She opened her folder and looked at it without reading. "I had a wedding coordinator tell me last week that Elevate approached the bride's mother three days before the event and offered to hire all the glassware, linens, and tableware at a fifteen percent discount. Three days!"
"While it was under contract?" My tone came out sharper than I intended.
If that happened to me, I'd be left with ingredients I couldn't return. It would be enough to cripple me financially. It wouldn't matter that there was a contract in place, not when you were facing a company that could foot bigger legal bills than you could.
"Yep, while it was under contract. The bride said no, thank goodness, but the mother spent the entire reception making pointed comments about value for money." Bea closed the folder. "I've been doing this for nine years. I've never had a client's family undermine an event in progress."
Matthew, who'd been quiet until now, looked up from his coffee. "They used my own work against me. I had photos on my website from a wedding two years ago. Beautiful wedding, couple was thrilled. Now those same images have turned up in a comparison piece on a wedding forum that Elevate apparently seeded. My work versus their photographer. Guess who looks better when someone else writes the captions."
Cherie put her hand up before speaking. "Two months ago I had twelve consultation bookings. After I turned down Elevate's offer, that dropped to seven. I can't prove a connection. Two clients mentioned seeing an ad they thought was mine. Same color palette. Very similar logo." She looked around the room. "I designed that logo myself."
Kelly was visibly furious while the rest of the room processed it. "Did you trademark it?" she asked, her voice deceptively quiet.
Cherie shook her head, regret plain on her face. "I wanted to, but I couldn't afford it, and then orders took off and I got so busy."
I knew exactly where she was coming from. I'd been in the same position. The only difference was that I'd eventually made time to protect my brand legally. A small mercy.
"Okay," I said. "Here's what I want you to take from tonight. Every one of these tactics has been carried out in isolation. To make each of you feel like you're dealing with something specific to you. That's the point. In isolation, these stories amount to nothing more than an awful month. Together, they're evidence of a coordinated campaign."
Kelly turned her laptop around. She'd been typing while people talked, pulling each account into a timeline she'd been building earlier that week. Dates, businesses, tactics.
Seeing it laid out like that, in a single document, changed something in the room. The way it always changed something when you looked at everything at once.
"How do we fight it?" Angie asked. She'd been perched on the edge of her chair with the poise only a dancer could carry off. "Other than legally, that is," she added, reminding me she'd been a high-powered lawyer in a previous life.
"We stop fighting it one business at a time," I said. "That's what they're counting on. That we each handle our version of this separately, exhaust ourselves, and eventually decide the math doesn't work."
I looked around the circle again. At Skye, who'd lost a baker and was watching her remaining staff. At Bea with her folder of documentation. At Matthew, whose own photography had been used to make him look worse. At Cherie with her handwritten notes, and stolen logo.
"The Selective," I said. "That's what we're calling it. We bundle our services for weddings and corporate events. Create packages that showcase what makes us different from a national operation, because we are different in ways that matter to the people spending money on these events."
"What does 'different' look like on paper?" Bea asked.
Kelly took that one. "A wedding package through the Selective means Nadia's catering, flowers from The Daisy Chain, Cherie's custom gown with alterations included, Angie's first dance lessons, Skye's dessert bar, Matthew on photography and video, and whatever other services we can bundle. One booking, one point of contact, one team that has worked together and knows how to do it."
