Page 65 of The Right Sign


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She skips off without answering me. The munchkin.

Mosely shuffles forward and raises his voice to be heard over the tinny music from the arcade games. “Sir, have you forgotten your meeting with the acquisition team at four thirty?”

“Shoot. Can we reschedule?”

“No.”

I rub the back of my neck. “Tell them we’ll do a teleconference instead of a live meeting. Have them email the proposal. Talia and I will run around for an hour. That should be more than enough time to tire her.”

He nods.

Talia returns with the cards that hold our virtual coins.

“Ready for me to kick your butt, munchkin?”

“Bring it on, Uncle Dare.”

For the next hour, we give it our best shot, but we’re only halfway through the entire arcade when Mosely gets my attention from the background and taps his watch.

I sigh and take my finger off the trigger.

“Come on!” Talia shrieks and points to the screen like a man who blew his entire lifesavings on fantasy football. “Yougaveme that last hit.”

“Sorry, Tals. I’ve got a quick meeting.”

“Now?” Her eyebrows scrunch together.

“Yes, now.”

“But we haven’t gotten to the fish tank game yet.”

“I know, kiddo. I’ll do my best to keep it short.” Glancing around, I see the food court attached to the arcade. “How about you ask one of the workers to bring you a snack? I heard they make a killer slushie here.”

“Okay,” she mumbles grumpily.

“I promise it won’t take long.”

She slumps off without replying.

Mosely is right there on my heels when I stride into a quiet area outside the arcade. He hands me a tablet with the material already opened.

I thank him with a nod and keep my attention on the proposal, skimming through the information. It doesn’t take me long to make my decision.

“We’re going with Cullen Tech,” I say into the phone.

“But sir,” a board member whines, “their profit share has seen a remarkable downward trend this year. Plus Cullen is sick with cancer—”

“Which is why we need to move now. This investment might renew his energy. Give him a way to pay off his medical bills.”

“With all due respect,” another board member scoffs, “we’re not running a charity.”

I stiffen.

“It isn’t lost on us that all your investments have a sob story, Sullivan. That might work if you’re a judge on a network TV talent show, but—”

My teeth grind together. “Have I lost this company one red cent? Have any of my decisions ever put our bottom line in jeopardy? I know where my priorities lie, gentlemen. I’m all about the almighty dollar and I am telling you that Cullen Tech is young, but their infrastructure is prime for take-off. And I can personally vouch for Cullen’s genius. He’s a hidden gem.”

“Sullivan—”

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