Page 13 of The Money Man
“No answer. But a lot of questions,” Leland said. His Georgia drawl was barely in evidence so Derek knew his partner was deep into tech mode. “Tell me again how your bookkeeper found this software.”
Derek repeated Alice’s description of the hotel presentation and the software’s useful features.
“Interesting. This software has all the fingerprints of either Russian or Eastern European programming.”
“That’s not unusual these days.”
“Except the website goes to great lengths to look all-American. Their headquarters is in Dallas. They claim the development is done there. If you call their help line, you get Texas accents. When I traced the call, it did indeed go to Dallas.”
“Which seems consistent. Did you ever consider that they might have simply hired Russian programmers? And since Russian programmers have a reputation for less-than-stellar quality control, maybe they want to keep that fact hidden.”
“Still seems hinky to me. Do you mind if I call your Alice and ask her some more questions?”
If Leland thought something related to computers was hinky, it probably was. “Well, you might not call her right now. It’s Saturday night, so she’s likely to be out or going soon.” Odd that the thought gave him a pang.
“Then I’ll leave her a voice mail. She doesn’t have to answer my call.”
It was useless trying to convince Leland that not everyone wanted to be on call 24-7. “It’s your project now, so you do what works for you. I’m just an interested bystander.”
“Keep the interest to a minimum. You’ve got Argon to worry about.”
Irritation flared at his partner’s warning. “I can actually hold two thoughts in my head at the same time,” Derek snapped.
“Yeah, but you were pretty impressed with the bookkeeper. I could tell by your notes. You don’t usually comment on a client’s skill and intelligence.”
“I thought it was relevant to the project since you haven’t met her. What’s your point?” The game was starting again, and Derek didn’t want to leave his client alone much longer.
“Just seems that there might be more going on than getting some numbers straightened out.” Leland’s drawl was back. “And KRG needs your full focus on Argon.”
Leland disconnected before Derek could ask him why giving Alice credit for being on the ball meant there was anything other than work going on. He shoved his phone back in his pocket. Having partners who were also old friends could be a royal pain in the ass.
Although uneasiness nagged at him as he remembered his thoughts about Alice’s hair and perfume. And panties.
But that wouldn’t prevent him from giving Argon one hundred percent of his effort.
Alice was curled up on the couch with Sylvester ensconced on her lap and Audley stretched out beside her, rereading one of her favorite Georgette Heyer novels. When she had scanned her romance collection after she’d put on her pajamas,Arabellahad suited her mood for the evening. As she read it, she realized why. When she pictured the hero, Mr. Robert Beaumaris, a very rich, very eligible grandson of a duke, he had the face and body of Derek Killion. However, Arabella wasn’t overawed by his riches or his looks, and Mr. Beaumaris fell hard for her. Alice knew that only happened in fiction, but a girl could dream.
An email chimed into her phone, which Audley was using for a pillow. She considered not disturbing the cat, but she thought a dose of reality might be a good thing for her Derek-hazed brain.
The message was from Leland Rockwell. The man was at work at nine thirty on Saturday night? He must have even less of a life than Alice.
She swiped it open.
I have some questions about the software. May I call you?
Did he mean now? Had Derek somehow sensed she was just like his partner and told Leland to go ahead and contact her? The idea sent a jab of hurt through her.
No, that couldn’t be true. Leland was just giving it a shot.
She looked down at her pajamas covered with dancing llamas. It wasn’t a video call, but she felt weird about doing business while dressed for bed.
She tapped back,Please give me fifteen minutes and then I will be available for your call.
She extricated herself from the couch without causing either cat to do more than blink at her disapprovingly and then dashed up to her bedroom to throw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. She even pulled her hair back into a ponytail to get herself into the right frame of mind.
When her phone rang, she was in her office in front of her computer screen.
“Ms. Thurber, this is Leland Rockwell from KRG.”
