Remember, in most instances, the sole objective of the cold call is, ultimately, to get an appointment where you can discuss the proposition in more detail, not to close the sale. In my experience, deals, like friendships, are made only one-to-one, face-to-face. Take as little time as possible in your cold call to ensure that the next time you speak to them it's in their office, or better yet, over some linguine and wine.

4. Offer a compromise.

In any informal negotiation, you go big at the outset, leaving room for compromise and the ability to ratchet down for an easier close. I closed my pitch to Serge by suggesting that even if he didn't want to hear anything about digital content, I'd love to get together with him just to meet, given our mutual friend's admiration and respect.

Robert B. Cialdini's book The Psychology of Persuasion shows how compromise is a powerful force in human relations. An example used to illustrate this idea concerns Boy Scouts, who are often turned down initially when trying to sell raffle tickets. It has been statistically shown, however, that when the Scout then offers candy bars instead, a less costly item, customers will buy the candy even if they don't really want it. In giving in to the concession, people feel as if they're holding up their social obligation to others. So remember, try for a lot—it will help you settle for what it is you really need.

Let's face it, having a list of names of people you want to reach in business, and a plan for what to say to them when you've got them on the phone, doesn't mean much if you never get them on the phone. Half the difficulty in reaching out to others is actually reaching somebody at all. It's even more difficult when that somebody is a Big Kahuna with a thicket of protective voice mailboxes, blind e-mail addresses, and defensive assistants running interference.

So how do you open the door?

First, make the gatekeeper an ally rather than an adversary. And never, ever get on his or her bad side. Many executive assistants are their bosses' minority partners. Don't think of them as "secretaries" or as "assistants." In fact, they are associates and lifelines.

Every time I have ever tried to go head-to-head with an administrative assistant, I've lost. It's like that childhood game: rock, paper, scissors. Well, in this game, as Mary Abdo taught me, the "associate" trumps all.

Mary was the assistant to Pat Loconto, the CEO of Deloitte (and I guess still is, even though Pat is retired), and in the beginning, we got along great. I remember once finishing up a dinner with Pat and Mary. Mary had to leave early, so I walked her outside while she got a taxi. The next day, I called to say thanks for arranging such a wonderful evening.

Apparently, people rarely called Mary to thank her for organizing events, and she was very grateful. She even bragged the next morning to Pat about how much she liked me.

Mary was a blast: fun and full of energy and wonderful stories. In my early days at Deloitte, when I'd call Pat, I'd spend an extra few minutes kibitzing. "Mary, you're a hoot to talk to." Looking back, my relationship with Mary was clearly one of the most important reasons I was given such easy access to Pat. And my relationship with Pat was one of the most important relationships of my business life.

However, with Mary and me there was a time when all that began to change. I had just become chief marketing officer.

At that time, I got my very own full-time administrative assistant, who I'll call Jennifer. I thought Jennifer was everything I'd want in an assistant: smart, organized, efficient. We got along great. The only problem was she didn't get along with Mary—at all.

Mary managed all the administrative assistants in our executive suite. Almost immediately, Jennifer and Mary were butting heads. Jennifer was digging in her heels and not letting up. I just thought they'd work it out eventually.

"It's all a power play. She's wasting my time," Jennifer complained.

I wanted to be supportive. Jennifer's complaints and concerns seemed reasonable to me, but I was hearing only one side of the story. I encouraged Jennifer to work harder at the relationship. And one day, after I had been pulled into the middle of another bout between them, I asked Mary if she could just work harder to get along with Jennifer.

Mary didn't take my suggestion well. Before long, getting on Pat's calendar became more and more difficult. Bypassing corporate bureaucracy, which was a breeze in the past, now became impossible. My expense accounts were getting micro-scrutinized, taking up my time, and the pressure on Jennifer was greater than ever, which made her react even worse.

I'd had enough. I went up to Pat's office and said bluntly, "Look, Mary, this has to stop."

If I thought Mary had been upset before—yikes!—it was nothing compared to her ire now.

Office life became a nightmare for a period of time.

Finally, Pat drew me aside. "Keith," he said, "you've gone about this all wrong. Now this whole ordeal is making my life difficult. Think about it: I get to hear all this from Mary's side as well about your administrative assistant, and I don't really want to have to deal with this. Second of all, you're being stupid. Mary likes you and always has. Do yourself a favor. Do me a favor. Whatever it takes, smooth things over with Mary. When it comes to these issues, she runs this place."

Personally, I had always cared for and respected Mary, but now I learned something else—an assistant like Mary has enormous power. Secretaries and assistants are more than just helpful associates to their bosses. If they are any good, they become trusted friends, advocates, and integral parts of their professional, and even personal, lives.

One day Jennifer, who was as loyal to me as Mary was to Pat, came to me and offered to resign. "Listen, I'm miserable and your career is going to be jeopardized if all this doesn't get straightened out," she told me. It was an amazingly gracious gesture, as well as a way to restore sanity in her life. I promised to help find Jennifer another job (which she did quickly), and we remain good friends to this day.

When I went to hire my next assistant, I did two things. First, I asked if Mary would prescreen all candidates and rank her top choices. I went with her first choice. I also told my new administrative assistant to do whatever Mary instructed. It didn't take long for me to make up with Mary, either. Pat was right: Mary did like me and I just had to better understand her role. Pat started getting my messages again and all of our lives were so much easier.

As important as gatekeepers are within an organization, they're that much more important when you're working from the outside.

At about the same time, Kent Blossil, an advertising sales rep-

resentative for Newsweek magazine, was one of twenty ad salespeople banging on my door looking to make a sale. But I had a media buyer at the agency whom we paid to take those meetings for me, and as a rule, I never met with ad sales reps.

Kent was different. He knew the kind of influence a gatekeeper wields.

Kent would call Jennifer once a week. He was deferential and overwhelmingly kind. Every so often, he would surprise her with a box of chocolates or flowers or something. Still, despite my assistant's suggestions, I saw no reason to take the meeting.

Jennifer persisted, however, and Kent must've been scheduled into my calendar on ten different occasions without my knowledge. Each time, I'd cancel. But she'd just keep plugging her good friend into my schedule because she felt he was different and had a more innovative approach than the others.