Double Trouble (12 page)

To his credit, James didn’t so much as blink. He was making short work of my cucumber slices, though. “How secure a portal?”

Trust him to cut to the beast at the core of the thing. “As secure as I can make it.”

He looked me dead in the eye. “How secure is that?”

“Not nearly enough.” I shrugged. “It’ll be as tight as a drum when I deliver, but anything can be hacked with time.”

“You have a contract with these people?”

“Well, duh.”

James put out his hand.

I knew what he wanted but I shook my head. “My business is my business, thank you very much.”

“And you can’t afford a sufficiently experienced legal counsel who could firewall you from the kinds of liability claims you could face from this.”

“Excuse me, but...”

“Maralys, you’re talking about social security numbers, and tax withholding data, and income and addresses and God knows what other personal information, all in one handy database. You’d be in deep trouble if someone hacked into this and used the data illegally.”

“Anything can be hacked!”

“And they probably know that.”

“They should. I told them.” I sliced with unnecessary force.

“But if the worst case happens, they’ll have to do something to make it look good. You’re a freelance contractor, Maralys, and the best candidate for scapegoat.”

There was an ugly little bit of reality and one I couldn’t argue. He was right and we both knew it. “Thing is, I assumed they had an intranet, but they don’t.”

“
Intra
: within. As opposed to
inter
: between.” James toyed with a cucumber slice. “You thought they had a private network but they don’t. You’re having to move this data over the public data freeways. Even worse.”

I nodded, impressed despite myself. “Who says Latin is dead?”

“Wasn’t me.” He met my gaze. “And this has given you a huge security problem.”

“Enormous,” I admitted, because there didn’t seem to be a lot of point in being cagey. “An intranet is controlled much more easily, because there are only a certain number of portals and you know what and where they all are. Using the Internet...” I shuddered. “It’s filled with pitfalls. I’m logging tons of hours to try to plug the holes. I’m good, but I won’t be babysitting this after delivery. They’re not paying me nearly enough for that.”

“Why wouldn’t they have an intranet?”

“Cost. Their workers are few and far flung.” I put down the knife. “But I assumed that since they’re swapping all this proprietary code back and forth that they’d have a more long term view and bitten on the cost.”

“To protect their investment.”

“Uh huh.” I sliced with undisguised disgust. “But they’re a bunch of cowboys. I should have known better. Now I’m paying big-time for a lack of due diligence on my part.”

“Or a lack of disclosure on theirs,” James mused.

I looked up, like a dog hoping for scraps.

“You could call it a breach of the understood t’s and c’s. Terms and conditions,” he amended when I looked blank. “You could certainly use it as a justification to amend your t’s and c’s, if not your price. That’s a big variable. It could be argued that it was incumbent upon them to make that clear to you at the outset.”

I wagged the knife at him. “Careful, Coxwell. I’m starting to like you.”

Again with the killer smile. He flicked his finger at me, as if that would summon the paperwork into his hand. “Give me the contract.”

“Isn’t there some saying about the Devil arguing Scripture?”

“Maybe there is. Think of it as a favor. I’ll sleep better knowing that your butt is covered in Teflon.”

“Why? I’m a source of cheap daycare?”

“Hardly. Call it an attack of conscience.”

“A likely story,” I muttered, but I got the contract. I was pleased, but you probably already know that. I take care of myself, but there’s a limit to how many specialties a person can have.

A pet shark has its appeal. Especially one who works for free.

James pulled out his glasses and flicked through the contract, his gaze sharp enough to leave slice lines on the paper. I winced when he glanced my way. “Who wrote this?”

“Me. I mean, who else?”

“Don’t give up your day job, Maralys. Any two-bit lawyer could steer an ocean liner through the holes in these clauses.”

“I don’t think so...”

“I do. Maybe you and your clients can gather around together and sing
Kum Ba Ya
together.”

“Why does that sound like an insult?”

James chucked his glasses on the counter. “This contract’s got no teeth, Maralys. You might as well not have a contract at all.” Decision made, James folded it up and tucked it away in his jacket pocket along with his glasses. “I’ll get you a new one in the next couple of days. There’s so much to revise that it won’t be legible by the time I mark it up.”

I don’t much take to people making decisions for me. Helping is one thing, this was another.

And you ought to know by now that I wasn’t going to be shy about making my feelings known.

----

Subject
: thanks for the brews

Hey, querida -

Nameless maid of silken voice and keen wit;

Thine beer arrived without nary a slip.

I’d share with thee a divine sip

If you’d come my way, upon an airship.

;-D>

What do you say?

Dennis

----

I
propped a hand on my hip and gave James my best glare. It’s a pretty good one, but he didn’t even flinch. “Who asked you to play God? I didn’t hire you and I don’t need your handouts.”

“Wrong-o,” he said, no doubt deliberately echoing my earlier challenge. “You can’t afford me, and you do need me. This contract is proof enough of that.”

James grinned and braced his elbows on the counter, clearly making an effort to charm me into agreement.

It damn near worked, but what he said was the ticket. “Let’s just say that I owe you for the other night. You trust people too much, Maralys. It’s no wonder you get stung. Let me build you the kind of firewall that I understand. Let me do this for you.”

I was touched—and weakening—though I’d be damned if I’d let it show. “It’s signed already. Too late for you to play superhero.”

“Not at all. Say you don’t deliver until they sign my addendum.” He winked. “Don’t worry. It will be in perfectly good faith and a natural clarification of the standing agreement given the change in the understood situation.” He paused for a heartbeat. “Tell them that your prick lawyer made you do it. They’ll believe you.”

I laughed at that and we both relaxed a little. “I guess you do owe me,” I mused.

“In more ways than one.”

I left that one alone. All alone. It was getting a bit convivial for me. “But you didn’t come here to fix my contract.”

“Nope.”

“What, then?”

James got up and paced around the perimeter of my loft, then came back to me. “You know, I’m starting to have a certain empathy for salmon.”

I laughed, because it wasn’t what I expected him to say. “You’re going to have to watch yourself. Some uninitiated soul might think that was a joke.”

“Well, it isn’t. Every time I turn around, things look worse.” He dropped onto the stool again and folded his elbows on the counter. “Every morning I get up and have to swim harder and faster just to get through the day. Every day I think it can’t get worse and it does. Every day I think there’s nothing more that can go wrong, and I learn differently.” He studied me, apparently puzzled. “How the hell do you do it, Maralys?”

“What do you mean?”

James snorted. “You’ve been poking adversity with a stick for as long as I’ve known you, and every day you go out and do it again. You never waver in your defiance.”

“Call it a weakness.”

“No, it’s a strength and one I need to work on. Look, we both know that Neil left you in a huge pit of debt.” James glanced around. “You seem to have done all right digging your way back out of that hole, and now I’m looking at a hefty one too. Let’s just say that I could use a few tips from a professional salmon.”

So, he had spied the financial commonality too. I toyed with the wisdom of pitching my joint-authorship book idea to him, but James didn’t look as if he’d see the humor in it. “Six years it’s taken me. You’d better be ready for a long haul.”

“But you’re doing all right now?” There was concern in James’ expression, concern so unexpected that it shook me up all over again. Not that I was ready to count on anyone or anything wacko like that, but it’s not all bad to know that someone gives a crap.

See? Fix loopholes in my contracts and I’m an instant mush ball. I really was getting old and vulnerable. Next I’ll be buying those chocolate covered almonds at the door to help send Bobby’s choir to Spain.

“Yeah,” I admitted. “Not exactly picking up properties on the Riviera, but I’m okay. Thanks for asking.” We exchanged a glance that heated the loft up a few degrees more before I turned hastily back to my sushi. “Want some?” I offered, without intending to do so.

James looked and grimaced. He composed his expression quickly, but not quickly enough. “Thanks, but no.”

Aye, and the devil himself had hold of my tongue, lairds and lassies, and I wasn’t going to let him mosey out of this one.

“Already eaten?” I asked with perfect innocence.

James visibly squirmed. “Uh no. Thanks very much.”

Clearly, he didn’t like sushi, but probably had never tried it. I enjoyed pushing him just a bit too much to back off. “But?”

“But I’m really not hungry.”

“But you see, the first thing you’ve got to do when facing adversity is keep up your strength,” I said with a charming smile and offered the platter once more. “And seize all the free meals you can. Please, there’s plenty.”

James looked away.

“Come on. It’s good.” I waggled it right under his nose.

He recoiled. “Uh no, thanks.”

“Just one, just have one, so I know I didn’t slave over a cold tuna for nothing.”

“I don’t eat bait!” The back of his neck colored then, and James made a quick recovery. “But thanks just the same, Maralys. Oh, look at the time.”

“You, jerk.” I dropped the platter on the counter, took a piece of sushi and tossed it back. “It’s delicious. All the more for me.”

“Well, you just go ahead and enjoy it.”

I had another and made a show of savoring it. “I’ll bet you prefer a big steak with all the trimmings?”

“Well, yes.” James looked suddenly hopeful, as if I might be hiding half a cow somewhere.

“Hope you’ve got your room booked at the Cardiac Arrest Hotel. The way you work, the way you live and the way you eat, you’ll be visiting there real soon.”

He looked at me hard, daring me to continue.

Well, I’m no shrinking violet, especially when it comes to telling hard truths. “I’m not joking, James. Your life is cardiovascular hell and you’ve just trebled your stress.” I counted it off on my fingers. “You’re a desk jockey, living off fast food, stressed out to the max. You’re a health meltdown waiting to happen. The machine can only take so much.”

“I don’t eat junk. And I work out.”

“And you’re over the big four-oh. Who’s going to cook now? You three will be living off pizza and deep-fried God knows what while you sweat your income. You’re absolutely primo.”

James sighed and frowned. “Don’t I know it.” He gave me that searching look. “Tell me it gets easier.”

“Can it get worse?”

He laughed then, a good hearty laugh right from his toes.

If you can laugh at your troubles, you’re halfway home, in my opinion. James eyed the platter of sushi. “Just promise me that there’s no karaoke in this joint.”

“None.”

He sat back down. “Then you’ve got a deal. Someone told me that anything that doesn’t kill me is supposed to make me stronger.”

“Obviously a wise wise woman,” I retorted and we shared a grin.

I set the table with some dishes I’d brought back from Tokyo. James asked what everything was and even though I warned him off the wasabi mustard, he gave it a try. We both laughed when he nearly choked on the considerable chunk he had taken.

He ate reasonably well and admitted that it was better than he had expected. I hadn’t bought saki—too many bad memories of painful mornings—so we had soda water. It was a remarkably amiable if hasty meal.

“You must have been in Japan for a couple of years.” James took a neutral tone so deliberately that it couldn’t be an accident.

“Three.”

“Marcia was always disappointed that you missed our wedding.”

“Please. You’re breaking my heart here.”

James grinned. “Seriously, it was an odd time for you to go.”

“Because twins are supposed to be joined at the hip? What? Was I supposed to get married the same day, in the same dress, to a guy with the same name? Please!”

“Weren’t you right in the middle of your degree?”

“What degree? I never finished. Barely started, actually.”

“Really?”

“Really. University was not for me. One term was plenty for me. I wanted to
do
something.”

“So you went to Japan.”

“Um hmm. Taught English to the innocent.”

James chuckled. “What kind of English did you teach them?”

“Oh, all the legit stuff. We went over the slang and vulgarities in saki bars at night.” I smiled at him. “Extracurricular classes for extra credit.”

He smiled back at me. “Trust you to make sure they had a rounded education.” For once, I didn’t seem to have come up short of the measure—if anything, he seemed amused by what I had done.

Time to divert his curiosity. “So what did you want advice about?”

“Fixing finances.”

“Right. As if you don’t know how to manage money.”

“It’s easy to manage when there’s a lot of it. It’s the lack of it that’s throwing my game.”

Another almost-joke. But he looked so exasperated by his circumstance that I figured it was an accident and took the comment at face value. “Make a list of what’s critical, what you can’t live without, and cover it first. Lose all the rest if you have to, and keep only what’s essential to your survival.”