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14
That night,Sterling stopped to ask for directions from the woman at the bar, who he presumed to be Logan’s mother, then let himself through the door to the left. He passed a couple of storerooms and climbed the creaky wooden staircase.
“It’s open,” Logan called when he knocked.
“Hello,” Sterling said, finding the other man in the kitchen, pouring nuts and chips into bowls. “Sorry I’m early. I wanted to run over some of my thoughts with you before anyone else arrived.”
“No problem. Carry these out to the table while I mix up some dip, then I’m all yours.”
Sterling put his papers aside, stacked the bowls and took them to the rectangular dining table, distributing them evenly along the center. A moment later, Logan followed with two bowls of onion dip.
“I can’t believe you’ve already started looking into my business,” he said, grasping Sterling’s hand and clapping him on the shoulder. Was this how men communicated with each other in small towns? “I really appreciate it, man. You want a beer?”
“No, thanks.” He retrieved his papers as Logan cracked the top off a bottle for himself, took a swig, and set it on the counter.
“What are you thinking?”
Sterling checked the first bullet point on his list. Pricing. “To start with, you’re undercharging.”
They worked through his list point by point, slowly migrating from the kitchen to the table, only pausing when a stocky guy with a mess of brown hair barreled into the apartment and helped himself to a handful of chips.
“What’s this?” he asked, eying the papers spread between them.
Logan’s eyes narrowed. “What’s it look like, knucklehead? Business.” He turned to Sterling. “This is Jack. He’s got shit for brains. Don’t pay attention to anything he says.”
Sterling wondered whether it was appropriate to say, “Nice to meet you.” Clearly, these two enjoyed some kind of banter he wasn’t a part of.
“This from the guy with nothing but seawater between his ears?” Jack threw back, saving him the trouble of making a decision, then settling into a chair and peering over at the papers. “Seriously?” he said to Logan. “Is this guy an accountant or something?”
“I’m Sterling.” He offered a hand, which Jack shook in a meaty fist. “I manage a business in Auckland and I’m helping Logan with some of his issues.”
Logan collected the papers and passed them over. “Sterling could probably help you, too.” To Sterling, he said, “Jack runs an adventure tour business, but he’s got as much of a head for numbers as I do, and his organizational system is worse.”
Worse? How could it possibly be worse?
Logan must have seen his dubious expression because he added, “Believe me, it’s true. He keeps his paperwork in a backpack—when he bothers to print it out. Half of it never leaves the web.”
“That’s less than ideal.”
“It’s stupid,” Jack grunted. “You can say it. I know I’m going to run into problems one day, but I really don’t give a damn about dotting the I’s and crossing the T’s. I just want to take people caving and rafting and let someone else worry about the rest. So yeah, if you know your stuff and you’re going to be in town for a while, I could probably use your help.” His lips twisted wryly. “If you can be bothered with small fry like me.”
A kernel of an idea began to form in Sterling’s mind. More of an idea of an idea than an idea itself, but it tickled the back of his consciousness like a loose thread. One he wanted to pull so he could follow it back and see where it went.
“I’ve got a little free time on my hands,” he said. “I’m staying at Sanctuary, so if you let me know when it suits, I’d be happy to look over your business plan with you.”
“Business plan.” Jack laughed. “Nice one. Tell you what. You give me your card and I’ll call when I’ve tracked down and printed everything I can.”
Sterling handed him a business card and he tucked it into his pocket. The door opened again, and a familiar face appeared. Just his luck. Logan was friends with Tione. He shouldn’t be surprised. Haven Bay was small, and the men were of a similar age.
Tione’s eyes widened when they alighted on him. “What are you doing here?”
“Playing poker.”
His nostrils flared, indicating he didn’t like the reply.
“I invited him,” Logan cut in. “We have a problem?”
“No problem,” Tione muttered, his jaw thrust aggressively forward.
