The First Meeting Decides How a Client Treats You

Imagine an interior designer named Esme Rourke who is meeting Mrs. Talbot at her house for the first time. Mrs. Talbot’s friend Mrs. Dempsey gave her Esme’s name, and Mrs. Talbot has looked through Esme’s website. She wants the ground floor redone before her daughter’s wedding next summer.

Esme has another appointment at noon, and she wants this job. “Thank you so much for having me,” she says at the door. “I’d love to work on this house.” Mrs. Talbot shows her the rooms, and Esme follows. In each room, Mrs. Talbot says what she has in mind, and Esme says, “That would be lovely.”

In the kitchen, before Mrs. Talbot has asked about money, Esme says that her fee is flexible for the right project. She adds that she can start whenever suits Mrs. Talbot. At the door, she says, “Just let me know if you’d like to go ahead.”

Mrs. Talbot hires her, because Esme is good and Mrs. Dempsey told her so. Over the next months, Mrs. Talbot texts on Sunday evenings and expects answers by Monday. Esme tells her that the dining table Mrs. Talbot likes is too long for the room. Mrs. Talbot orders it anyway, because her sister likes it. At the second bill, she asks whether Esme could do a little better on the fee, since it was flexible. When Mrs. Dempsey asks how it went, Mrs. Talbot says, “She’s sweet. She does whatever you ask.”

Suppose instead that, after hello, Esme asks how long Mrs. Talbot has. “An hour,” Mrs. Talbot says. “Then I’d like to walk the rooms first,” Esme says. “After that, let’s sit down and you can tell me what the house needs to be for the wedding. Before I go, I’ll tell you whether I’m the right person for it, and how I’d go about it.”

In each room, Esme asks how the family uses it. Mrs. Talbot asks what she thinks of the wall between the kitchen and the dining room. “I’d take it down,” Esme says. “With 80 people in the house, everyone will end up in the kitchen.” She says nothing about her fee until Mrs. Talbot asks, and then she gives it once. At the door, she says, “I’ll send you a proposal on Thursday. If it suits you, I can start on the 3rd.”

Mrs. Talbot hires her. Over the next months, she writes on weekdays, and she asks Esme before she buys anything for the house. When Esme says the dining table is too long, Mrs. Talbot asks what length would fit. When Mrs. Dempsey asks how it went, Mrs. Talbot says, “She knows exactly what she’s doing. Do what she tells you.”

Esme brought the same eye to the same house both times. What changed was what Mrs. Talbot decided about her in the first hour. Mrs. Talbot had already placed Esme in a tier from her friend and the website. In the meeting, she decided something else. She decided whether Esme was an expert she was consulting or someone asking her for a job.

In the first version, Esme thanked her for the chance, followed her through the rooms, and agreed with every idea. She also answered questions about money and dates that nobody had asked. Each of those is what a person asking for a job does. So Mrs. Talbot treated her that way until the last bill. Here is why the first hour counts for so much, and how to spend it as an equal in the work.

A first impression holds because later surprises are treated as exceptions

In 2010, the psychologist Bertram Gawronski and three colleagues published a study in the Journal of Experimental Psychology: General. His university described it the next January. People saw either good or bad information about a stranger on a computer screen. Later they saw new information about the same person, which contradicted the first.

While people formed their view, the researchers quietly changed the background color of the screen. Afterward, the new information changed people’s gut reaction to the stranger only against the background where they had learned it. Against any other background, the first information still won.

Gawronski’s explanation is that the mind stores a surprise as an exception to the rule. The rule stays in force everywhere else. A first impression can change, he said, but only when it is contradicted in many different settings. Until then, “The first impression will dominate regardless of how often it is contradicted by new experiences.”

Those were people looking at a stranger on a screen, and the step to a client’s house is the course’s own. Here is the step. In the first version, Mrs. Talbot’s rule about Esme was that she does what she is asked. The day Esme said the table was too long, she broke the rule once, in one setting. Mrs. Talbot filed it as an exception, Esme being fussy about a table, and ordered the table. To change the rule, Esme would have to break it in many settings over many months. The first hour is the one time the rule is not yet set.

A writer for agencies says the first meeting is a meeting of peers

Blair Enns, the founder of Win Without Pitching, writes for agencies about how to win work. In a post from 2005 on first meetings with a possible client, he describes two kinds of agency. One tries to impress, so “their meetings tend toward the audition, with one party presenting and the other judging.” The other tries to find out whether there is a fit, “in line with the more desired patient-practitioner relationship.”

“The meeting is peer to peer, not servant to master or waiter to customer,” he writes. You want to seem to be “assessing the situation as much as he is assessing your firm.” So early in the meeting, he asks how much time the client has. Then he says what the meeting is for, which is to find out whether there is a fit. He gives the client permission to say no, and he gives his reason in one sentence. “People who are good at what they do are in demand and therefore ruthlessly efficient with their time.”

In a first meeting, he writes, the agency should talk about a quarter of the time. That quarter is “devoted to asking questions, not bragging, persuading or presenting.” The meeting ends with a next step, as specific about the day and time as you can make it, because “Every interaction ends with the scheduling of the next.”

Enns also has his agencies spend a few minutes telling the client about the firm. Measured against this lesson, that part waits. A client sent by a friend has usually heard about your work already, so you tell them more when they ask. The rest of his order fits a client’s kitchen as well as an office.

A Seattle designer treats the first meeting as a test for both sides

In 2020, Business of Home asked nine interior designers what they bring to a first meeting with a client. The magazine opened by saying that a first meeting “can set the tone for the entire working relationship.”

Charlie Hellstern, a designer in Seattle, said what his firm takes a first meeting to be. “We always treat our first client meeting as a ‘chemistry’ meeting,” he said. “This is the first chance to see if we will enjoy working with each other.” He called it “an opportunity for both sides to use the magic of first impressions.”

Hellstern’s question is whether the two of them will enjoy working together. A person asking for a job asks only whether the client will choose them. A professional who asks whether the fit is right on both sides is acting as an equal from the first hour.

Why answering questions before the client asks them goes wrong

Imagine a tutor named Margit Szabo who meets Mr. Faulkner about his son, Felix, who is 16. Felix has his chemistry exam in June. Margit wants to seem thorough, and she has an hour before her next student. Before Mr. Faulkner has asked anything, she gives him her degrees and her rate, and says the rate includes materials. She explains her cancellation policy and says that none of her students has failed. She adds that she can do evenings if afternoons are hard, and that she is flexible.

Mr. Faulkner listens, and then he asks the question he came with. “Can you get him to work when nobody’s standing over him?” Margit has 10 minutes left to answer it. Mr. Faulkner hires her, because a neighbor recommended her. In the first month, he cancels twice on the morning of a session. When Margit mentions her policy, he says, “You said you were flexible.”

Everything Margit said was true. What Mr. Faulkner heard was a person trying to clear every objection before he could raise one. That is what someone applying for a job does. An expert waits to hear what this client needs to know. That is the course’s own advice, and here is the reason. The client’s questions tell you what they care about, and Mr. Faulkner cared about one subject that Margit had not touched. The same habit shows up inside an answer, as what you add to a complete answer.

The version that works starts with a question. Margit asks what made Mr. Faulkner call now. He says Felix stops working the moment nobody is watching, and the hour is about that. Her rate comes when he asks for it, in one sentence.

Meeting a wealthy client as an equal is not pretending to be their equal in money

Running the hour can feel like overstepping with a client who could buy your house twice. It can also feel cold, as if you were holding back the warmth that wins people over.

Enns’s picture is a patient and a doctor. A patient may have far more money than the doctor. Even so, the patient expects the doctor to ask the questions and say what should happen. Being an equal in the work means that. It does not mean deciding for the client. Esme said what she would do with the wall, and Mrs. Talbot made the decision. The line between the two is the line between direct and arrogant. Your opinion comes with its reason, and the choice stays with the client.

The questions are where the warmth goes. Esme asked how the family uses each room, and Mrs. Talbot spent the hour on her own house and her daughter’s wedding. A wealthy client might already know how this kind of hour feels, from the lawyer or the doctor they trust.

How to run your next first meeting as an equal in the work

1. Before the meeting, write down how you will use the hour, in three parts. First you look and listen, and then you ask what you need to know. At the end, you say whether you can help and how. The order is the course’s own, drawn from Enns. Its reason is that you cannot say whether you can help until you know what is needed.
2. After hello and your opener, ask how long the client has. Then say how you will use the time, in the same three parts. For example, an event planner can say, “Then let’s walk the garden first. After that, tell me about the party. Before I go, I’ll tell you how I’d do it.”
3. Ask your questions to find out whether you are the right person for the job, and say so. For example, a specialist realtor can say, “Let me ask a few things first, so I can tell you whether I’m the right agent for this house.”
4. When the client asks what you think, say what you would do and why, and leave the decision with them. Do not hand the question back with “whatever you prefer.” For example, a florist can say, “I’d keep the arrangements low, so the guests can see each other across the table.”
5. Leave your price, your openings, and your credentials until the client asks about them. Leave out any mention of a discount or a flexible fee. When the client asks, answer once. For example, a dog walker who is asked the price can say, “Thirty-five dollars a walk, Monday to Friday.”
6. End with a next step that has a date, said as a plan. Leave out “I’d love the chance” and “let me know.” For example, a caterer can say, “I’ll send you a menu and a price on Tuesday. If it suits you, I’ll hold the 14th for you.”

Next: You will see how to tell when a client is ready for more than the job. You will also see why the pace is theirs to set.