Page 76 of The October Arrangement

“What is?”

“Nothing is happening, Simon. I’m bored, and so are the other viewers who attempted to view your boring content.”

“What the fuck, Bella? The video showcases the residence. It’s doing what it’s supposed to do.”

“I know what it’s supposed to be doing. I’m telling you what it’s actually doing. It’s empty. All this video does is show me an empty, non-warm, non-cozy space. How much are these apartments going for?”

“Anywhere from twelve to forty million.”

“So, your buyers are high-net-worth buyers. We’re talking executives, entrepreneurs, financiers, tech moguls, and international buyers. Correct?”

“That pretty much sums it up,” I said. “We use the same video outline for all our buildings. But for some reason, it’s not working for Montclair Tribeca.”

“These people you’re trying to sell to already have luxury homes. They’ve stayed in the best hotels, eaten at the best restaurants, traveled the world, and seen every marble countertop ever made.”

“What’s your point, Bella?”

“You’re trying to impress them with marble countertops and city views. They’re not buying marble countertops. They already have them in their current home.”

“I know that. They’re buying the residence, Bella. I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

“They’re buying what they think their life is going to be like in the residence. But some people have trouble envisioning that. So, you need to do it for them.”

“Keep going,” I said.

“If I’m spending twelve to forty million dollars on a home, don’t show me another picture of a kitchen. Show me why I want to wake up there. Show me sunlight coming through those windows in the morning. Show me someone barefoot making coffee while the city is waking up in front of them.”

“Interesting. Go on,” I said.

“I want to see people actually enjoying living there. Maybe a shot with a few friends on the terrace having drinks at sunset. Soft music playing in the background, while people talk and laugh. Make me wish I was there.”

She stopped the video on the kitchen shot. “Show a couple cooking dinner together.”

“People who buy our penthouses usually don’t cook,” I said.

“You can’t say that about every rich person. You need to make them want to cook in that kitchen.” She clicked to the residents’ lounge. “You have this incredible residents’ lounge. Why is it empty? Show someone working there during the day, sitting on the couch with their laptop. Then change the feel of the space at night. Show people having cocktails before they go out. Show me that I can have friends over without cramming everyone into my apartment. Show a small party happening. A place where the residents can host a shower or birthday party.”

“Can I say one thing?” I asked.

“Sure.”

“They wouldn’t be crammed in a four-thousand-square-foot apartment.”

“You’re missing the point.” She reached over and smacked my arm.

“I know. I’m giving you shit.” I grinned.

“All I keep seeing across the screen is exclusive, exceptional, refined living.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” I asked.

“Nothing, if you’re selling a retirement community. You keep telling people it’s exclusive, luxurious, and exceptional. Stop it and make them feel it. That’s what content is supposed to do, Simon. Anyone can post a beautiful picture or video of an expensive apartment. You need something that will make people stop and say, “God, I want that life.”

I took in every single word she spoke to me. She was right, and there was no arguing about that.

“Are you busy tomorrow?” I asked her.

“Actually, I’m not. Why?”