As sweet as peach pie

Sandy thought that she had no time for love . . . then she met Brian!

Wright’s Produce Market. How may I help you?” “Is this Sandy Wright?” the male voice asked. “It is. How may I help you?” “First, let me ask you to please not hang up on me. This is Brian Ford. Our grandmothers are in a swimming class together at the rec center in Sunnyvale.”

“Why would I hang up on Ginger Ford’s grandson?”

“Because the peaches are a bumper crop this year, and my grandmother refuses to make me a pie unless I ask you out.”

“You’re right, Brian. Most women would hang up on you. However, not only do I understand fresh produce, but I am very familiar with dating under duress. After all, Ginger’s best friend is my grandmother.”

“Everyone wants to help the course of true love,” he said

Brian offered a sigh of relief. “Are you free tonight, Sandy?”

“Actually, I’m not. I’m teaching an adult education class on cooking seasonal produce.” “Saturday? For lunch?” “I’m manning a booth at the farmers’ market.” “You’re a busy gal.” “Yes, but I love being part of the family business.”

“Family is important. I admire your enthusiasm.”

“You could meet me at the farmers’ market on Saturday,” Sandy said. “I can always use help.”

“A working date. I like it,” Brian replied

Saturday morning Sandy parked the produce truck close to the booth to begin unloading boxes. “I can help with that.” She turned at the voice. It belonged to a really cute guy with a friendly smile. “Brian?” “That’s me.” “You look a lot like your grandma.”

“So I’ve heard. And you, Sandy, are even prettier than my grandma said.”

Sandy’s face warmed at the compliment.

“So how do I start earning my pie?” he asked.

“You can bring the boxes to the booth, while I set up.”

As they chatted, Sandy found herself enjoying Brian’s sense of humor and quick wit.

He picked up a large fuzzy peach and smiled. “Grandma was right. The peaches are huge this year. That’s going to make a beautiful pie.”

“What is it you do for a living?” Sandy asked.

“I teach marketing at the junior college.” “So you could probably give me advice on our slowermoving products.”

“Sure. Selling is all about basic marketing principles.” Sandy pulled a Wright’s Produce Market T-shirt from a box. “Can you sell these?”

He examined the shirts. “Good quality and a fun design.”

“I thought so, but we haven’t managed to sell many.”

“Let me try,” he said as he pulled a shirt on over his head.

At the end of the day, Brian helped her close up the booth and load the remaining produce into the truck.

“So how’d you do with the T- shirts?” she asked. “I sold 50.” “Fifty? What’s your secret?” “No secret. Just a basic marketing principle: product positioning. You have to convince the customer your product is the one that they should spend their money on.” “How did you do that?” “I wore the shirt, then I gave them an incentive to buy.” “What was that?” “I told them if I could sell enough shirts, you might go to dinner with me. Not a single person turned me down.”

Sandy’s jaw dropped. “That was a reason to buy the shirt?”

“Sure. Everyone wants to help the course of true love. It makes people feel good. They got a great shirt and walked away with a smile.”

“Are you sure you didn’t sell the shirts as a way to ensure peach pie?”

“Maybe at fi rst, but after spending the day with you, I’m convinced that peach pie is only a fleeting incentive. Getting to know you has long-term potential.”

“You’re quite the marketing expert.”

“And you’re quite the produce gal.” He grinned. “So, what do you say, Sandy? Dinner with the marketing guy?”

“Yes. Absolutely. And I’m looking forward to sharing your grandmother’s peach pie with you, too,” she smiled.