Angela Jenkins once built a set of books for a friend, for free, because that’s just who she is—a helper. Months later, the friend took that work to her accountant to get her taxes done, and he told her: “Whoever created your books, I hope you paid them a lot of money.”

That feedback hit Angela like a ton of bricks: “That’s when I realized I need to charge for this,” she recalled. “I love math, and zero times anything is still zero.”

That moment—where a lifelong giver finally reckoned with the cost of giving it all away, all the time—perfectly encapsulated the the second session of Financial Cents’ Proudly Small series, a four-part lineup of weekly panels tailored to small and growing accounting firms across North America.

Moderated by Ron Baker, co-founder of Threshold and a longtime evangelist for value-based pricing, the panel brought together three firm owners—Angela of Mindfull Money Matters, Christine Salvatore of In Line Management, and Dave Kersting of Capovario—to dig into two decisions that have an outsized impact on a small firm’s fate: how you price the work, and how you onboard the clients who say yes.

As Ron emphasized, pricing and onboarding aren’t big-firm problems to grow into. They’re small-firm superpowers.

I don’t believe being bigger is better,” he said. “Being better is better. You can stay a small boutique firm and have a massive impact on your customers.”

“Zero times anything is still zero”

At some point in their journey of starting and building a firm, each one of the panelists eventually reached the same conclusion: being good at the work and being paid fairly for the work are two very different things.

For Dave, the wake-up call came after two decades inside a company whose clients kept getting rich while he didn’t.

I truly am a giver,” Dave said. “I want to give everybody everything for free, and I want everybody to be happy and be millionaires. And I was like, wait—they really are millionaires, and I’m still not. What did I do wrong?”

At Capovario—the Denver-based firm he founded in 2020—Dave’s approach to managing this tendency is characteristically (and perhaps counterintuitively) generous: rather than abandon the impulse to give, he built it into his business model, routing 20% of the firm’s revenue back to small clients by charging them less and absorbing the difference. “If I still want to give stuff away, I can,” he said, “Because I own it.”

A longtime W-2 production accountant, Christine only grasped how specialized—and thus, valuable—her knowledge was when colleagues started calling her with all their accounting questions. “I didn’t really realize how much knowledge I had in my niche until I kept seeing, ‘Oh, they’re calling me—they’re asking me this,’” she said.

When COVID shut down the entertainment industry, pushing her into a patchwork of part-time gigs, her husband suggested she turn it into a business. Once she made the leap to firm ownership, the market quickly validated that pivot. In her early days, she leveraged Upwork to source new clients. They actually reached out and told her she was the only production accountant on the platform (and offered to help her optimize her profile), and a documentary producer later told her In Line Management was the only production accounting firm she’d ever found.

“Five years later, it’s still a very specialized niche,” Christine said.

The shared lesson is one Ron underscored repeatedly: the profession exists to help people, but helping people for free isn’t a business—it’s a hobby with overhead.

The low-rate myth

Even if you’re not totally giving away your services, you still might be underselling yourself on your rates. And if there was one belief the panel wanted to bury, it was the idea that a cheaper hourly rate will get you more work. Angela bought into this fallacy for years.

I thought if my hourly rate was low enough, I would get more clients,” she said. “And what I found was—and I laugh every time I think about it—when I told people what the hourly rate was, they still thought it was too high.”

Worse, the clients who did sign on often capped her hours—telling her not to spend more than six hours a month on their account, for example—which boxed her into an arrangement where she could neither serve them well nor make the economics work. “I would be like, ‘There is not one thing I can do for you for six hours a month at this rate,’” she said.

That experience pushed her toward the monthly tiered pricing model she uses today. This shift demonstrated another one of Ron’s biggest battle cries: pricing is not a one-and-done problem to solve, but a practice you keep refining. 

Pricing is a journey, it’s not a destination,” he said. “You’re never done with it, and by the way, it’ll never be perfect.”

Diagnosis before prescription

The strongest antidote to mispricing is refusing to quote a dollar amount before you fully understand what the work entails. Dave formalized this concept into a paid discovery process—$1,500 before any engagement begins. The fee pulls double duty: it’s revenue, but it’s also a filter. 

If they’re not interested in paying the $1,500, they’re not interested in my services,” he said. “They’re not vested yet.”

He also told the story of a prospect he met at the gym, whom he sent home with three pieces of homework before their next meeting. “I wanted to see if he was going to do the work,” Dave explained. The guy did it, which told Dave he was a client worth investing in.

A pre-engagement diagnostic also helps ensure the quality and impact of the work, because it allows you to identify the most urgent financial issues—and figure out what’s causing them. Ron used a medical metaphor to reinforce this point. For doctors, he explained, prescription without diagnosis is considered malpractice. He argued that the same concept applies in accounting and bookkeeping: proper diagnosis is a professional obligation, whether or not you bill for it. “I’m thrilled that you’re charging for it,” he told Dave. “But even if you don’t, it needs to be done.”

For Angela, the diagnostic process is rooted in a thorough—some might say intensive—get-to-know-you conversation. She runs every prospective client through a battery of questions in an effort to learn as much as possible about them—inside and outside of their professional lives. That might include whether they are married, how old their kids are, what school district they’re in, or whether they’re looking to buy a bigger house at any point in the near future.

“All of those questions give you answers that live in the books, whether you realize it or not,” she said. A personal tax bill being paid through the business, an estimated payment that never shows up—these are symptoms, and the cause is usually a story the client is embarrassed to tell.

“It’s always the fast, clipped answer,” she said, explaining how she knows when something is amiss. “I slow it down, and then they start giving you more information.” One client warned newcomers that Angela “will ask you a hundred questions before she starts.” She considers that a compliment.

Of course, none of this works unless you clearly establish a “no-judgment zone,” which both Angela and Dave flagged as the real foundation of trust.

I want them to say they screwed up,” Dave said. “Then we can figure out how to solve that problem.”

Angela often builds client rapport by leveling with them: when one panicked over an IRS letter, she matter-of-factly told him she’d gotten one too. “I think doing that disarms clients,” she said. “They think, ‘Oh—she goes through the same exact things I do.’”

Advisory, concierge, and pricing for value

Dave describes his services as “concierge consulting”—an important (and intentional) departure from the more commonplace “advisory.”

“Advisory, in my opinion, means I’m telling you what to do, like I know your business perfectly,” he said. “But if I knew your business, I’d be running it myself.”

Concierge consulting, by contrast, is more collaborative—and more humble. Dave freely admits he can’t know everything, so he brings in outside experts through an arrangement he calls “co-firming,” handing pieces of a client’s business to a finance manager here, an inventory specialist there.

Ultimately, it’s about giving the client this feeling that the world is at their fingertips, and I’m giving it to them,” he said, likening his model to that of a concierge medical practice. “You’re going to pay more for a concierge doctor. A lot more.”

That premium, the panel agreed, is built as much on memory, experience, and relationships as it is on technical skill. Dave’s firm leans into the experience factor shamelessly—right down to a voicemail message recorded in a British accent. “It doesn’t make any sense, and it’s just really funny,” he said, adding that sometimes, clients call just to hear it.

He went so far as to purchase the domain “cup of Oreo” because that’s what Siri hears when you say Capovario, and he started mailing prospects actual cups of Oreos. “Everybody needs cookies,” he said, laughing. It might sound like a gimmick, but it’s all part of the differentiated experience he’s building—one you can’t really put a price on.

“Pricing is connected to relationship,” he emphasized.

Relationships are key to the health of Christine’s firm, too. Nearly all of her growth now comes from referrals, which she traces directly to how clients feel when things go sideways.

Being there for the client in times of crisis is a big deal,” Christine explained. “Even if it’s not urgent in my eyes—I understand they feel it is urgent. So to be in contact with them and tell them the plan that we have to solve a problem goes a long way.”

When she makes clients feel safe, heard, and taken care of, they will naturally send other folks her way. That means she can focus less on sourcing new business and more on delivering exceptional work to the clients she already has. “I’m no longer refreshing Upwork and LinkedIn every hour like I used to,” she shared.

The expensive lesson you’ll probably learn multiple times

The hardest-won wisdom of the session had nothing to do with spreadsheets or pricing formulas. It was about the cost of ignoring your instincts. But to say that’s easier said than done would be an understatement.

Christine learned this lesson twice. First, a client ghosted her without paying the $6,000 he owed in outstanding invoices. But her team had already done the work, which meant Christine had to eat the cost. The client had paid reliably for two years, so she’d extended trust. “I really believed him,” she said. “I’m not excusing it. It’s business, it’s not personal—it was a cash flow issue.”

But the more distant he became, the more her gut told her something was off. Ultimately, even with a court order, she was unable to collect the balance. Now, she is much more aware of that gut instinct, and she pushes herself to listen to it sooner—ideally before a contract is even in place.

If I get a feeling in the first phone call that something might be off, or if they screen-share their books with me and I see low cash flow, I definitely make sure to always charge a retainer, and I stay on top of it,” she explained. “If they are even a few days behind on payment, I make sure to follow-up.”

More recently, though, Christine signed her biggest client ever—even though her intuition had been screaming “wrong” from day one. It wasn’t long before her fears materialized.

“My gut from the beginning was telling me that it was not a good fit, and I was debating how to bring this up to [the client] because I knew it wasn’t right,” Christine said. “She was stressed, I was stressed, and my team was stressed, and it was just toxic all around.”

When the client finally ended the engagement, the relief outweighed the financial sting. “It wasn’t the work that was inadequate,” Christine said. “It was the vibe.”

These kinds of missteps are inevitable, even when you have excellent vetting systems in place. But that shouldn’t deter you from building and refining those systems continuously, because even if the occasional bad fit slips through, you can stop the vast majority of toxic client relationships before they ever begin.

Angela, for example, runs every prospect through a Red Flag Checklist administered by her admin. Responses for each item can be red, yellow, or green. One red, and they won’t take on the client.

The message is, ‘It’s been wonderful meeting you, and I’ve so enjoyed learning about your company. However, at this time, we are not the right fit,” Angela said, explaining her approach to letting down bad-fit prospects.

Dave actually loops in a team member with “second rights” to confirm his instinct on every new client, precisely because he knows his own weakness. “I learned that lesson, and then I relearned that lesson,” he said. “I just keep doing it over and over.”

Christine admitted she’s still in the learning phase, occasionally tripped up by the lure of a big logo.

It’s just so hard to turn down a large client in the moment,” she admits. “But I know I never want to risk losing a team member or my own sanity over a high-maintenance client.”

She offered a metaphor that resonated across the panel, inspired by a friend who’d told her to “keep eating healthy” after one particularly toxic client left a bad taste in her mouth. “That one client that isn’t healthy can spoil more than what’s directly in front of you at the moment,” Christine said.

Engineering the “wow” in the first 30–90 days

Landing a new client is only the first step. The first month is when the path toward a long, fruitful relationship is paved—the window where a new client decides, often subconsciously, whether they made the right call.

Angela kicks it all off with something sweet. New clients get a Sugarwish treat to welcome them to the family, along with a 30-day plan that walks them through document collection, system setup, and training—with an official kickoff meeting she works hard to make fun. Part of the setup is getting everyone into Financial Cents, which is a pretty frictionless process.

“Everybody’s like, ‘I don’t have a password,’” she said, referring to the client portal. “I’m like, ‘You don’t need a password—just click it.’”

She puts a lot of care and effort into making everything as simple and painless as possible for the client, because she knows how uncomfortable—and exposing—onboarding can feel.

Opening up your books to people you’re meeting for the first or second time is intimidating,” she said. “So we try to make it enjoyable.”

Christine’s first month is about establishing a rhythm and building mutual trust. Because she’s usually the one who closes the sale, she stays close in those early days, then gradually hands off work to her team once the relationship is secure. “I make them feel they have a lot of access to me while I build trust with the team members,” she said.

Dave thinks in terms of “the first 90,” because 30 days isn’t really enough to deliver what he’s after: a “wow” moment. And that wow often has nothing to do with accounting. He’ll audit a new client’s medical, dental, and 401(k) benefits, or get fresh bids on their general liability and workers’ comp insurance—outsourcing the legwork to brokers hungry for the business. Then he serves those vendors up to the client, often saving them a lot of money by reducing their expenses right off the bat.

It’s really about making them feel valued above and beyond just the accounting stuff,” Dave said.

The case against pricing your own work

Another point the entire panel agreed on: you are the worst possible person to set your own prices.

We’re all terrible at pricing our own work,” Ron said. “This is why actors and authors have agents. When I’m pricing myself, I’m a complete wimp.”

His half-joking, half-serious advice to firm owners: let your spouse do it, since they’re the ones who’ll live with the consequences of undercharging.

Dave found a creative workaround when he was first starting out. Six months into running his firm solo, he invented an employee named Tristan. “I’d tell the client, ‘I’m going to have to ask Tristan about the pricing,’” he said—a buffer that took his own feelings, and his own tendency to underprice, out of the equation. “Tristan has now been alive for six years and does all my pricing,” Dave reported with a chuckle.

Others lean on external reference points. Christine benchmarks against the standard weekly union rates in production accounting. “It helps me reference an external source so they can see the price is comparable,” she said, adding that she’s pretty sure her new fractional CFO services are underpriced because “no one has bumped on it.” Angela prices to her local market and pressure-tests her numbers with a CPA friend who keeps telling her to charge more. “He’s like, if they don’t like it, you’re charging correctly,” she said.

Read more about pricing best practices in Two Cents Magazine →

“You’re worth it”

Near the end of the session, Ron asked each panelist for the one thing they’d tell a new firm owner about pricing. Their answers were short and sweet.

“You’re worth it,” Dave said.

“Trust your instinct,” Angela added. “If you feel like the number should be $750, charge them $750.”

Christine went the other way—and her answer was arguably the boldest.

Charge 20% more than what you think you should charge,” she said. “Pretend like you’re paying an agent.”

Ron wrapped it all up on a more philosophical note, invoking the Latin root of the word profession, professio, which means “to declare publicly.” His declaration:

“Every client who comes to us is building a future that does not yet exist,” he said. “Our privilege is to help them see it more clearly—not merely to account for what has been, but to help others become what they might yet be.”

And it’s tough to put a price on work that empowers others to achieve their full potential in business and in life.

This was the second of four sessions in the Proudly Small series. The next one, “How We Got Our Name Out There: Marketing for Firms That Hate Marketing,” takes place June 11.

Visit the full Proudly Small hub to meet the firm owners on our panels—and add your firm to the Wall of Small Firms. It only takes 30 seconds.