Have a Nice Day

When The world keeps trying, to drag me down,
I’ve gotta raise my hands, gonna stand my ground.
Well I say, Have a Nice Day.

 

Trixie couldn’t believe the way things had turned out. Kitty Buchanan had been as good as her word. Her PDA included an appointment to meet with Reid Beckhart. The inside information Kitty had given her on the proposed merger between the Buchanan’s business and Triad Properties had allowed her to file a report with her boss. With any luck, the government would have full access to both companies’ records for the required anti-trust review.

The offices of B3 Software were vastly different from the others she had visited. B3 software was clearly a younger company. The entire layout of the offices was unusual. Group areas containing sofas and espresso machines meshed with colorful open space cubes, natural lighting, and plants. It looked more like a coffee house than a business.

The secretary outside of Reid Beckhart’s office hardly looked old enough to have completed high school. A slender black girl was wearing trendy earrings, a sweater and blue jeans. Trixie finally decided the attractive secretary was older than she first appeared, but her attire was misleading. She suddenly felt overdressed in her business suit. The slim short skirt and gabardine jacket were stylish, but made her feel oddly mature among the female employees of B3 Software.

“You must be Beatrix,” the young woman said cheerfully. “I’m Janiece. This way, please.”

She didn’t even wait for Trixie to confirm her identity before escorting her into the adjoining office. Janiece motioned her to the glass-topped conference table. Trixie gave the room an appraisal. If asked, she could have described it perfectly. Glass was a popular commodity – from the glass block walls that separated the office from the outside reception to the conference table and desk. Natural light streamed in, and Trixie noticed every chair in the office was a different color.

“Coffee’s in the carafe,” Janiece informed her. “Help yourself. Reid will be here in a moment.”

Trixie thanked her and selected a clear glass coffee mug. As she poured coffee from the carafe, she gulped down a sudden wave of anxiety. For the first time since college, she felt outmoded. She faced the reality that Reid Beckhart might consider her government experience and education dated, and not a good fit for his company.

She barely had time for two quick swallows of caffeine before Reid Beckhart himself breezed in. “You must be Beatrix Belden.” He approached her quickly, extending his hand. “I’m Reid Beckhart. I see you found the coffee.”

Trixie shook his hand, “Thanks for the appointment, Mr. Beckhart.”

“It’s Reid. I hope its okay for me to call you Beatrix?” He quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Of course,” she replied, breathing a sigh of relief as she detected a fleeting flash of approval on his face.

“Have a seat.” He motioned towards the table, taking the seat next to her. “Tell me, Beatrix. Why do you think you can help me? Kitty speaks very highly of you.”

Trixie was astounded that Kitty had said anything positive about her to Reid Beckhart, but she plowed into her speech without hesitating.

“I don’t think I can help you, Mister, uh, Reid.” She paused a moment. “I know I can. Let me tell you about the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency. In addition to the traditional detective services of employee background checks and references, we’re also detecting Internet abuse, fraud, and intrusion.”

It took her almost ten minutes, but in the end, she could tell she had impressed him when she mentioned Chuck Prescott and Warren Mortimer as two of her references.

“Your fee?” he asked.

“Twelve thousand a week,” she replied without blinking. Charlie had spent a solid fifteen minutes coaching her on how to handle questions about her fees.

“You really believe you can save me money?” he asked.

“Yes, I do. Other clients have seen savings from my findings. Are you using a consultant now to review your Internet security?”

“No,” he admitted reluctantly. “We’re not the traditional kind of company,” he explained. “We do a lot of brainstorming running the business. Every employee is encouraged to bring ideas forward and no idea is thrown out, until at least six people have reviewed it.”

“Do you mean six people will need to discuss the idea of bringing me in to evaluate your security?” Trixie blurted out without thinking.

“No – that’s not what I mean,” he hastily assured her. “Look, as silly as this might sound, we don’t believe in meetings here at B3. We talk to who we need to talk with, we make things happen, and get things done. That’s why our software is the number one Internet compatible search engine. People use our search engine and don’t even realize it. It’s embedded in more commercial software than there are computers in the United States.”

“I understand. Is it secure?” she asked.

“Of course it’s secure!” He snorted. “Do you think we’d be number one if it weren’t?”

She leaned forward. “Are you going to stay number one if it ever gets out someone hacked into your corporate systems?”

 

 

Trixie was jubilant. Reid Beckhart had started her to work immediately in a glass- enclosed cubicle outside his offices. She spent most of the morning feeling as if she were in a fish bowl, but reconciled her twinges of discomfort with the knowledge that the next day, she could wear blue jeans to the office.

The company structure was different from any she had ever seen. Janiece introduced her to dozens of employees, most of whom didn’t really seem to have a traditional boss. By the end of the day, she was able to determine that there were at least three different people with varying responsibilities for segments of the company’s cyber security. None of the three seemed to take her concerns seriously.

When Trixie left for the day, she knew she’d have to develop a different approach to figure out the IT security at B3. Planning for an early night, she didn’t bother to download data to analyze that evening. She had discovered that the company protected very little of their information internally and her login and password enabled her to access most company systems.

 

 

Trixie kicked off her shoes and quickly changed from her business suit to clothes that were more comfortable. She had already decided on soup and a sandwich for supper to go with an early night. As she pulled a soft Virginia College sweatshirt over her head, she punched the button on her phone for voice mail. Jim’s message sent her scurrying straight to her computer.

Moments later, she sighed. There wasn’t anything wrong with picture and the article, but she exposed more leg than she would have liked in the first picture, and it was obvious that she was the woman Jim was kissing in the second one. Her eyes narrowed and she picked up the phone to call him.

“Hey. It’s me,” she said softly. “I got your message.”

“Trix, I’m really sorry about this,” Jim apologized. “You know I don’t want this kind of publicity either.”

“I know,” she replied leaning back in her desk chair as she tried to think the situation through. “It’s our friends at The Squawker. Didn’t they give Dan a heads up?”

“Nope, they told Dan the picture was taken by one of their regular photographers,” Jim explained.

“And the article about how we’re consoling ourselves with each other because of Mitsy and Charlie,” Trixie said. “How did they come up with that?”

“Anonymous tip,” Jim replied. “Dan’s following up. He promised to let me know something when he’s connected with the photographer.”

“Did you talk to Charlie?” Trixie squirmed to get comfortable in her desk chair. Some things about the gossip seemed just a little too pat for her.

“He called me first. Apparently he’s been monitoring The Squawker for a while.” Jim hesitated. “Do you want company? I can drive into the city and stay awhile. Mother and Dad won’t mind if I spend the night at the apartment. If you’d feel better I could stay with you.”

Trixie flushed, knowing what would happen between them if Jim stayed with her. “I’m fine. There’s something fishy about all of this. It doesn’t make sense for them to pick on me. I’m nobody.”

“The hell you are!” Jim protested. “You’re one of the most important people I know.”

“Jim, gossip is about the rich and famous. I’m neither of those things, not really. Do you think this could be about Charlie?”

“He doesn’t think so,” Jim said quietly. “Listen, Trix, do you think this could have something to do with one of your clients?”

Trixie shook her head. “No, I don’t. I doubt any gossip rag could find out about my work. Confidentiality is critical when it comes to my job.”

The line was quiet for a few seconds before Jim spoke again. “I hate you being in the city and me being in Sleepyside.”

“We just saw each other two days ago,” Trixie reminded him.

“Trix…” Jim hesitated. “I still hate it.”

“I miss you, too.” Trixie doodled on the blank paper next to her desk. “Listen, I’m going to see if Dan will let me go with him when he talks to this photographer. I have a funny feeling about all this.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Jim answered. “Maybe I should come with you as well,” he suggested.

“Three of us will keep him from saying anything,” Trixie told him. “Let me see what Dan says, okay?”

“Sure,” Jim answered reluctantly, feeling left out of Trixie’s work for the first time. “Will you let me know what you find out?”

“You’ll be the first to know.”

 

 

After witnessing the open environment at B3 on her first day, Trixie did not intend to access her CIB accounts from their offices. Instead, she quickly checked her email messages at home while she sipped her morning coffee. She had her fingers crossed that the intelligence she had reported on the proposed merger between Triad and Torch would prove beneficial to her case.

“Secure Message, enter encryption key,” Trixie murmured, typing in the password to access the message from the CIB. Glancing at the time, she tapped her fingers impatiently as the computer confirmed her credentials. She did not want to be late her first full day on the job, especially knowing she might need to meet Dan to connect with the photographer for The Squawker. She needed to see if her boss responded to her secured message about the pending merger. There was a reply and she clicked to read it, a smile blooming on her face. Her fist pumped in the air with a decided victory when she read the instructions to cease investigations on both Triad and Torch systems, including their owners. The government would investigate as part of the anti-trust filings.

Trixie was ecstatic to learn her boss not only had agreed to eliminate Triad and Torch based on the proposed merger information she received from Kitty, but even more, he agreed with her reviews and assessment of both Prescott and Thornhill. She sighed as she looked around the tidy apartment. It was time to head off to work. Remembering the casual atmosphere at the office, she gave a half smile and glanced down at her attire. She’d donned jeans and a sweater along with her favorite new boots. She grabbed her laptop and headed to work. At least I’ll be comfortable this week!

Later that morning, Trixie’s frustration peaked. She had found no one willing to take responsibility for the computer settings and employee security established in the system. She threw her pencil down in disgust and decided to get some coffee when Janiece put her head in the glassed-in cubicle.

“How’s it going?” she said cheerfully.

“It’s not,” Trixie replied, standing and stretching in an attempt to relieve her growing dissatisfaction.

“Aww, I’m sorry about that. Can I interest you in a cup of coffee? I just started a fresh pot.”

“Sure. That’s where I was heading.” Trixie walked with Janiece towards the employee break area.

“What’s the problem with your project?” Janiece asked, pulling brightly colored mugs out of the cabinet. There were no Styrofoam cups at B3 Software. Everything was deliberately eco-friendly.

Trixie accepted a cup and dumped in cream before stirring in a small amount of sugar. “I can’t find who’s responsible for setting up the system security,” Trixie said. “In fact, I can’t even find the security settings on the system.”

“Did you search for them?” Janiece asked, doctoring her own cup of coffee with liberal amounts of sweetener.

“Everyone I talked with seems to think it’s someone else who has that responsibility,” Trixie moaned.

“Yeah, most of the systems people around here would think that was fairly mundane and boring, but that’s not what I meant. Did you search for it on the system?”

“Yes, but I can only find so much with my login into the system,” Trixie explained. “I’m not familiar with your computer software. Not even the manual helped me much.”

“We don’t use that stuff,” Janiece explained. “When we want to know something out of the system, we use the B3 search engine to find it, not the software itself. All you have to do is type in your search criteria – the phrase system settings would probably give it to you.”

Trixie frowned. “I don’t understand. How do I get to the search engine?”

“It should be on your computer. Didn’t system support load it?”

“No, I have my own computer,” Trixie replied. “No one loaded anything on it. They just gave me a login and a password.”

Janiece rolled her eyes. “It figures. Come on, I’ll help you get what you need. Truthfully, you can find out more about what’s what around here by querying our software than you can anything else. It’s what we all use.”

Within an hour, Trixie was amazed. A computer tech had reported to her cubicle promptly after Janiece’s phone call. The software was loaded on her laptop, and within fifteen minutes, she had more information readily available than she had ever imagined needing. The high technology search engine that Reid Beckhart sold to millions of customers was the backbone of his own systems. Built to operate on top of his various computer systems, it enabled the B3 employees to find answers to anything with a simple query. On a daily basis, it pushed various reports the company intranet. The system settings clearly reflected the system settings and the access level of each employee. There was very little in the way of system blocks and security. She grinned. With this kind of detail and the right access, she’d be done in a day.

 

 

Not even the flash of Dan’s gold detective shield moved the young photographer from his position. Walt Tyllman seemed well versed on his rights to take and sell photographs. Dan’s questions and veiled threats got them nowhere.

Several moments into their meeting at one of New York’s many hot dog stands, Trixie quietly placed a hand on Dan’s arm without looking at him. Dan looked down and shut up. He knew Trixie had a few questions.

“Were you aware that your employer has negotiated coverage rights to one of the season’s hottest charitable functions?” Trixie asked.

Walt shook his head before swallowing the hot dog he had been chewing. “They’re not my employer. I’m freelance. What they call a 1099 employee. I just happened to have an agreement with them where they get first right of refusal and 48 hours advance use of any photographs offered to them.”

Trixie digested this tidbit and glanced at Dan. He gave her an encouraging nod. She took a deep breath and nodded. “Exactly how many photographs of me have you taken?”

“Well, that night, I probably shot a roll full. Got a few back at the coffee house as you was leaving, but they weren’t good, clear shots. I’d just happened on you guys for the ones they purchased.”

“It was after midnight.” Trixie deliberately stepped on Dan’s foot as he opened his mouth to speak. “I guess you keep some late hours.”

“As late as you socialites party. I’d been following a tip that Paris Hilton was going to be at Club Creole that night, otherwise I might have caught you earlier.” He looked hopefully at the pair of them. “Can I have another hot dog?”

Dan muttered but pulled the bills out and motioned for the hotdog vendor to prepare Walt another dog.

“I’ll bet you count on tips to help you get the good photographs,” Trixie continued her friendly tone. “What kinds of people give you information about celebrities?”

“All kinds,” Walt replied, grabbing the hot dog and taking a large bite.

Trixie frowned. “Do you mean the celebrities themselves call you?” She managed to insert just the right tone of disbelief into her question.

He chewed another moment and swallowed before answering with a laugh. “It’s been known to happen. Paris started out that way, but bouncers, doormen, publicity reps, all kinds. Sometimes a jilted lover will call,” he shrugged. “Same guy always calls me about you,” he said innocently before taking another bite.

Trixie squeezed Dan’s arm in jubilation. “Someone called you Saturday night?” Trixie asked. “Was it the same guy that called you before you took the picture of me and Detective Mangan?”

Walt frowned as he realized the slip. “I didn’t take any pictures of you and him,” he protested, looking back and forth at the two of them. “But yeah, it was the same guy that called me the night you were at that fancy party. I had taken pictures of you arriving, but then I left. He called and said I’d get better pictures of you leaving. Then the four of you left with different people. The Squawker loved that.”

Yeah, I’ll be they did, Dan thought in disgust, rolling his eyes at the photographer. He finally spoke up. “I’m warning you, Tyllman. There’s a distance law in this state. You comply with it or I’ll be taking you in.”

Walt leered at Dan. “Distance – shmistance, we both know you ain’t got nothing on me and you won’t be getting anything on me. I know my rights.”

 

 

Trixie appeared at Janiece’s desk, a worried crease on her forehead. “Is Mr. Beckhart available?”

“Do you mean Reid?” Janiece asked her with a small smile. “He’s with some people right now discussing a proposal they want to get out today.”

“Will he be very long?” Trixie shifted her weight from one foot to the other; her investigation had uncovered a ticking time bomb of a security hole.

“He could be five minutes or five hours. You never know around here where a discussion will take them. He’s got a few long-winded members of the brain trust in there with him.”

“Gleeps!” Trixie moaned. If she had been at the Bureau in Chicago, she would have easily interrupted her boss with an issue of this magnitude, but this was a different kind of business, in more ways than one.

“What is it?” Janiece asked. “This is the first time I’ve seen you ambivalent about something since you started working here.”

“I found a problem in your systems, a serious problem. I think he needs to know about it right away, but…”

Janiece pushed back from her desk and stood up. “Come on then. Let’s tell him.”

“Are you sure?” Trixie asked. “It seems wrong to interrupt like this.”

Janiece snorted. “You said a serious problem. I can assure you they aren’t talking about any serious problems in there. Let’s go.”

Trixie nodded, deciding that Janiece was correct. After all, if it had been her business, she’d want to be interrupted.

“Reid?” Janiece didn’t even knock on the door. “Beatrix has discovered a problem. She needs to see you right away.”

He looked up from around the table, where men and women of various ages, size, and ethnicity surrounded him. “What kind of problem?”

“You have a major problem in your security,” Trixie spoke up. She handed him a piece of paper.

“What are you talking about?” He looked at the paper in bewilderment.

Trixie hesitated as she glanced around the room full of people. “I could show it to you.”

Reid shook his head. “You can speak freely in front of anyone here. What’s the problem with the security?”

“You created this hole in your firewall,” she pointed to the screen shot on the piece of paper. “It appears there’s a legitimate need for some of your home-based employees to access your systems.”

Reid nodded. “We do that all the time. What’s the problem?”

“It’s not secure. There’s a problem with the code. All a person has to do is click cancel and they’re in.” Trixie pointed to the second screen shot. “I was able to access it without any problem even though I didn’t log in.”

“Show me!” he demanded, striding towards his computer.

“Log out of your system,” she instructed and while Reid complied, several of the top members of his staff surrounded his desk to watch.

It took less than five minutes, but he watched in disbelief as she demonstrated how any computer user, even a neophyte, would easily be inside his system.

Reid turned to her with a piercing stare. “How long will it take to fix it?”

She shrugged. “The fix should be easy. Probably less than an hour for a good coder, and that’s all you hire. First, we have to find the code that allows this to happen. I spent ten minutes looking but then decided your team could locate it quicker. That’s when I brought it to Janiece.”

Reid glanced around the room. “Sales – get the proposal out – there’s not much you can do to help with this. Andy, I’m going to need Chris, Madji, and Ted on this right away. Find them and get them up here now. Ian, once we find the problem, I’ll need you to back track how we let this happen. We’re not on a witch-hunt to fire someone, but we clearly didn’t test this piece of code well enough when we put it into production.”

Suddenly, there was a flurry of activity. Everyone moved with purpose. Reid leaned back in his chair and studied Trixie more closely. He realized he had underestimated the young woman and her abilities – as well as overestimating his own business processes. He shook his head. “Can you help to oversee the resolution of this problem?”

She nodded. “Of course, remember, my evaluation is not complete, but this seemed major, and I didn’t want to wait to bring it to your attention.”

“How long will it take to get the security vulnerability plugged?” he asked glancing up at the clock. It was already past three in the afternoon.

“Realistically, not long, but if the bug is in a very minor subroutine it might take longer. I have a feeling the people you mentioned are the ones most familiar with this code?”

She arched a questioning eyebrow at him.

He nodded in response. “Chris is as good as they come, and Madji is one of the smartest programmers I’ve ever seen. Between the two of them, I’d bet less than twenty minutes.”

“Then we’ll probably have the fix tested and in place by six,” Trixie answered, looking at the clock.

“Fine, you can use my office as the war room for this.” He nodded towards the conference table. “It has both secure and unsecure Internet connections. You can test as an outsider while they work. Do you want a couple of more people to help you test?”

“It would help speed it up. Do you have a home-based employee you trust to work with us?” She asked.

Reid laughed. “I trust all my employees, but use Zelda Diamond. She’s sharp and she just started working at two. She’ll be fresh. Janiece will get you in touch with her.”

“Where will you be?” Trixie asked, flushing slightly as he arched an eyebrow at her.

“I’ll be right here. You don’t think I’m going to leave while my company is exposed like this, do you?”

Actually, that was what she had thought. However, Trixie nodded carefully and wondered again about the enigma Reid Beckhart had presented to her. He was still young, less than forty. His wife was somewhere around his age, but they had three kids – a thirteen-year-old daughter, a ten-year-old son, and a four year old. Trixie bit her lip, once again wondering what kind of woman Allison Beckhart was. She realized he was staring, and she shook off the wanderings and moved towards Janiece’s desk. She cast a backward glance. “Can you get us a couple of extra computers in here? I want at least one that doesn’t have your search engine loaded on it.”

He smiled and nodded as he picked up the phone. “Yeah, consider it done.”

 

 

“401- Authorization required!” Trixie exclaimed the jubilation in her voice was apparent to everyone in the conference room. She beamed at the team. “Zelda?” she spoke into the speakerphone. “What did you get?”

“One moment, please, Beatrix,” the clipped British voice answered. “I want to try one more method.”

The room was quiet, and the sounds of Zelda’s key clicks were audible over the line. “It works,” the sedate tone informed the group gathered in Reid’s office.

Trixie’s brow knit in momentary confusion.

“What I meant to say – I’m not able to get into the system,” Zelda clarified. “The computer fix Madji wrote works.”

Ted spoke next. “Madji, run the code through the virus checker and then check it into the source safe library. We’ll recompile and upload the software.” He turned and looked at the boss. “Reid, do we have your permission to take the systems down, now? They’ll be back up and operational in thirty minutes.”

Reid nodded. “Broadcast a message across the network that they’re going down in five minutes.” He looked at Beatrix. “Did you detect any unauthorized intrusions?”

She shook her head. “None.”

“Excellent. Ted, you’ll make sure our customers receive the web page notification that it’s routine system maintenance and to check back in thirty minutes?”

“Of course,” he nodded. “Chris, do you have that?”

“It’s already uploaded, Ted. As soon as you bring the system down, the inquiries will be automatically rerouted to the ghost server.” The brunette woman with a cute pixie haircut gave them an impish grin. Trixie would have sworn she was actually enjoying the crisis.

“Excellent work!” Reid Beckhart beamed. “Each of you will find a more suitable expression of my thanks in a paycheck coming to you soon.”

Reid flipped his hand nonchalantly at the murmur of thanks from the team. “Ian, when can I expect your report on how this occurred and our lessons learned?”

“No later than Monday afternoon, Reid. Initial indications reveal someone checked an early version of the code into the system instead of the final version. We need to verify that, and how it happened.” Ian was confident that his boss would not be looking to fire anyone over the incident. His focus would be on training the various employees involved and documenting the lessons learned.

A knock sounded quietly on the door as an attractive, titian-haired woman appeared. “Are you going to be working a while, Reid?” The slender newcomer was dressed in an attractive cocktail dress. Trixie noticed the fabulous designed shoes and stunning diamond earrings.

“Aaahhh, Allie!” Reid grinned boyishly as he crossed the room and dropped a dutiful kiss on his wife’s cheek. “What have I made us late for now?”

“Nothing, yet, but we have a reservation for seven at Bagley’s. We’re to meet Margaret and Tim for dinner.”

Reid grimaced. “Is this going to be another sales pitch disguised as a dinner?”

“Now, Reid,” she reprimanded by placing her hand on his arm. “Get changed. You know good and well Margaret can’t sell the business unless Mike doesn’t want it.”

“Mike’s old enough to make up his mind by now,” Reid grumbled as he moved to comply with his wife’s request. “He needs to quit fooling around and decide what he’s going to do with his life. It’s past time for me to give him a call and remind him of his responsibilities.”

Trixie observed quietly from the large conference table, as the woman she was certain was Allison Beckhart watched her husband leave and make his way to the employee locker room. It wasn’t until his footsteps had faded that Allison looked around her husband’s office, nodding at the employees. “Hello, Ian. Ted. You must have been quite a problem if you needed Chris and Madji to help you fix it.”

“Yes, it was,” Ian acknowledged. “How are you doing, Allison?”

“I’m fine,” she replied.

Zelda’s voice broke in and prevented further discussion.

“Ted, I’m going to hang-up now. Call me when the system is restored and I’ll do a final live test.”

“Thanks, Zelda,” he replied. “In case you were wondering, Allison Beckhart is the new arrival. Apparently we’re making Reid late for a dinner meeting.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Zelda.” Allison’s voice was warm. “Hopefully someday we’ll be able to meet face-to-face.”

“Absolutely!” Zelda replied before she disconnected.

Trixie was shutting down her laptop and organizing her notes while Allison spoke. Suddenly, she felt a chill that had nothing to do with the climate control in the B3 office, and discovered that she was the target of significant scrutiny.

It was obvious that Allison was trying to place her among the staff, but was coming up short. With a puzzled frown, the elegant redhead spoke to Trixie.

“I’m sorry – but if we’ve met, I’m afraid that I don’t remember you.”

Trixie rose to her full five foot, two inch height, and nodded at the B3 CEO’s wife. “I don’t believe we’ve ever been introduced. I’m Beatrix Belden, with the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency.”

“Of course,” Allison’s voice remained pleasant, but Trixie detected an icy tint. “Kitty mentioned you to me. You’re also an acquaintance of Charlie Prescott’s, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Yes.” Trixie was amazed to find that she was actually wishing she hadn’t dressed in the casual jeans of the rest of the B3 Software staff. It would have been preferable to meet Allison Beckhart on an equal basis. She decided she was right about the change in atmosphere when Allison didn’t move to shake hands with her.

Ian and Ted exchanged uneasy looks, as if they recognized the emerging tension between the two females. However, Madji’s easygoing good nature defused the situation.

“The software has been checked in. It’s time for the recompile. I’m taking the system down.” He smiled at Allison. “This is a first for us, deliberately taking down our systems.”

Allison frowned and crossed to the conference table. “What’s happened, Madji? This sounds serious.”

 

 

“I’m serious about talking to Mike about his future,” Reid loosened his tie as he and Allison left the restaurant. “It’s time for him to decide if he wants to be involved in his Dad’s company or not. I’m afraid if he waits any longer, Margaret won’t have much of a company left to sell.”

Allison shrugged. “Mike’s always been more your friend than mine. If you think you need to approach him, then you should talk to him. Margaret and Tim would appreciate it. It was obvious she’s ready to retire from the business. Tim may be interested in running it and let’s be honest; he couldn’t be successful even if he wanted to.”

Reid slipped his arm around his wife. “Same old story, huh Allie – old money versus new money.”

“You’ll always think of yourself that way, won’t you?” she asked. Allison had long since accepted that her husband would never be comfortable around the old-money friends of her family.

“I don’t want to rehash that old argument,” he answered mildly. “But yes, I don’t think there’s anything you can do to make me think of things differently. I could make more money that your entire family tree put together, and your mother’s always going to sniff her nose as if it’s tainted somehow.”

“My mother doesn’t share the same attitude as the rest of the family,” she reminded him gently. “But you’re right. No rehashing of things tonight.” She leaned her head on her husband’s shoulder. “Is that why you hired Beatrix to help you out at the office, because she’s new money?”

“No, of course not, I hired her because she convinced me she could help me, and she was right. The woman uncovered a huge problem with our security.” Reid pushed a hand through his hair, still frustrated that such a major problem had occurred.

“Madji showed it to me,” she admitted. “You were very lucky.”

“Yeah, but Kitty’s the one who called and asked me to see Beatrix,” Reid said, settling down in the back of the limousine. “I thought you knew her.”

“Kitty asked you to see her?” Allison pushed up and turned to look at her husband in amazement. “Are you sure?”

Reid snorted. “Of course, I’m sure. Kitty’s never asked me for a favor before, well, at least not a business related favor. She did ask me about Charlie several years ago.” He pulled his wife back close to him, not wanting to give up their quiet time alone. “Is she finally over him?”

“I don’t think she has a choice,” Allison answered. “He’s always made it clear that he’s not interested. Kitty hasn’t mentioned Charlie to me, since….”

“Yeah, I know.” Reid rubbed his wife’s back as he remembered a certain time in their marriage. Things had been deteriorating and he had let the pressures of work interfere in his marriage. He had been lucky that Charlie had been able to extricate him from the mess he had made of things. He had been even luckier that his wife loved him in spite of his foolish behavior.

Reid cast a quick glance at his watch and looked outside at the passing traffic. “It doesn’t look like we’ll be home anytime soon.”

Allison smiled. “There’s nothing we can do at home that we can’t do here,” she replied suggestively.

Reid pushed a button. “Conrad, you can take your time getting us home. Allison and I are going to take a nap.”

“Very good, sir,” came the reply.

One more push of a button and the privacy screen locked into place. Reid reached hungrily for his wife. “You always have the best ideas.”