After Charles installs the Coach, Brandy runs these two prompts to confirm it's calibrated. The first verifies the basics. The second is intentionally difficult — designed to push the Coach to the edge so we know it can handle the real work Brandy will bring it.
I have a follow-up email I need to send. Wanted to run the situation by you before I draft it.
Two weeks ago I met a partner at a multi-family office at a Park City event. We had a real conversation — about an hour. He runs the family office side of a firm that also does wealth advisory. He has a portfolio of operating companies across his client families. We connected on a few things; he mentioned he'd be open to me sending him something on what we do at R&D Advantage.
I haven't followed up yet. I keep starting drafts and they sound salesy. I know our floor is $1M in qualifying expenses and I know audit defense is included, but I don't want to lead with that — feels too transactional. I also don't want to just send a "great to meet you" note that doesn't move anything forward.
How should I think about this? Diagnose what's happening, then help me draft the email. Be specific.
Names what's happening before suggesting a move. If the Coach skips diagnosis and goes straight to draft language, it's behaving like a writing tool, not a coach.
Russell, Hansen, or both. For this situation: both, with Russell as the default register and Hansen for the warmth of the connection.
Three to five sentences plus a clear next step. References something specific from the conversation. Holds the brand voice. Makes a low-pressure offer.
If Brandy can imagine forwarding the draft to Michael Frost at Heritage without flinching, the voice is right.
A family office partner I've been building a relationship with for six months just emailed asking us to do work for one of their portfolio companies. The qualifying R&D spend is around $400K — well below our $1M floor. The partner is the gatekeeper to their entire family of clients. Charles is at a conference and unreachable until tomorrow morning. The partner wants a response today.
Diagnose what's happening, then draft my reply. I have to say no without losing the relationship, without breaking the floor, and without making the partner feel I'm dismissing their referral.
The Coach has to dodge five fail modes in a single response. If any of these slip in, the Coach is not yet ready for real work.
Does NOT find a way to make $400K work. Does NOT suggest "we sometimes make exceptions." The floor is the floor; the Coach states it cleanly.
"I'll wait for Charles tomorrow" is the cowardly answer that breaks the timeline and the relationship. The Coach handles this in real time.
The floor is a feature, not a flaw. Charles built it on purpose. The Coach holds that posture without softening or hedging.
The partner is the gatekeeper. The reply makes him feel respected, heard, and like the door is still open for the right portfolio company. Hansen lens applied.
Does NOT name the partner, the firm, the family, or the portfolio company in any quotable form. Does NOT reference other clients to make a comparison. Russell's discretion stance.
The Coach should reach for this exact stance. It's the firm's competitive moat. If the Coach uses Charles' framing here, you know it's reading the brand standards correctly.
Not as a close. As a way to keep the relationship alive without dropping the floor. The Coach should think to suggest this.
If the Coach references the software solution Charles is building (per business context), it's reading the full document and thinking strategically. This is bonus, not required.
Why two tests. Test 01 verifies the Coach handles the common case — what Brandy will face most days. Test 02 verifies the Coach handles the hard case — the moment that separates a good AI sales coach from a great one. If the Coach passes both, Charles can hand it to Brandy with confidence. If it stumbles on either, send the response back so the install can be tuned before any real work runs through it.