Page 38 of Dancing for the Minotaur

She took a breath. “You've been doing business with humans for how long?”

“Three Earth years,” he said stiffly.

“And nobody has explained to you that human companies will sometimes wait as long as possible to pay an invoice unless you remind them?” Terra asked.

His golden eyes narrowed.

“They deliberately withhold money they owe?”

Terra nodded.

“Sometimes. If they think they can get away with it.”

His frown deepened.

“But that is dishonorable!”

Terra shrugged.

“Welcome to Earth.”

Taurex gave a disgusted snort that sounded distinctly bovine.

Terra smiled.

“Okay. First thing we're doing is creating an accounts receivable schedule. Thirty days, reminder. Forty-five days, second reminder. Sixty days, phone call.”

“What happens at ninety days?” Taurex wanted to know.

“At ninety days, we get mean,” Terra told him. She gave him an appraising look. “That shouldn’t be too hard for you. All you need to do is go to their office and look scary.”

Taurex's mouth twitched.

“I believe I can manage that. Humans do tend to find me intimidating for some reason.”

“Maybe because you’re eight feet tall and look like a Greek myth come to life,” Terra murmured.

“A what?” he asked, frowning.

“Never mind. Let’s just see what we can do…”

Terra turned back to the screen and started clicking through the accounts. Within twenty minutes she had found three more problems.

One customer had been charged twice for the same shipment. Another had paid an invoice, but the payment had never been properly credited. A third had received nearly twenty thousand dollars worth of off-world gemstones without a final invoice ever being generated.

Terra stared at the last entry.

“Taurex.”

“Yes?” he rumbled.

“You shipped these people nineteen thousand eight hundred dollars' worth of merchandise.”

“Yes?” he said again.

“Well, you never billed them,” Terra pointed out.

The big Monstrum frowned.