Read Online Terminal Value by Thomas Waite - Free Book Online Page B

door. Her head remained down; only her eyes moved as her glance followed him from the door to her desk.
    â€œHow have your ‘classes’ been going with our quasi-resident teacher, Dylan?” she asked, a smirk creeping across her face.
    â€œHis knowledge really is amazing. It would be an advantage to have him on the road show.”
    Christine shook her head; an errant tress of hair swirled across her face from one side to the other. “No. We agreed we did not want him on this trip.”
    â€œI know, I know, I’m just commenting on his knowledge. Did you know he has perfect recall? His mind compartmentalizes everything, and he can remember even the smallest details. Amazing.” Art pursed his lips as he thought about the two weeks he had spent with Dylan, learning all he could about mobile computing.
    â€œYes, I do know about his memory. That’s one of the reasons we decided not to include him. Perhaps you should hone your own memory.”
    Art took a deep breath as he considered her snide comment. “My comments are rhetorical and don’t require a response.” His annoyance with Christine showed, thinly veiled, throughout the conversation.
    â€œWhat is it you want, Art? I’m busy with my own preparations.”
    â€œI got a call today about Hyperfōn. We need to make a decision about that proposal.”
    Christine stopped tapping the keyboard and sat back in her chair. She raised her head and stared beyond Art at the back wall of her office. “I was surprised the proposal came to us from that source.”
    Art nodded his head. He too had been surprised, but recognized the lucrative end of the proposal was too much to reject. “So? Yes or no?” he asked.
    Christine did not take more than a moment to reflect on the “lucrative” side of the proposal Art mentioned. Her answer was short and terse: “Yes.” She returned her attention to the keyboard and the numbers that scrolled across the monitor screen.
    Art smiled. “I’ll pass that along.”
    The sound of a cough at the door caught their attention, and they turned to see Tony standing in the doorway, fidgeting with a handful of papers.
    â€œSorry to bother you, Christine, but Rich asked me to bring these to you. He would have sent them interoffice package, but he knew I would be returning to Boston on the shuttle this evening and asked me to bring them back with me.” He shuffled his feet and held the papers out toward her.
    She snatched them from him, signed them, and shoved them back in his hand.
    â€œThanks.” Tony turned and left the office with no further discussion.
    â€œClose the door on your way out!” Christine demanded.
    When the door closed, Art turned to Christine. “How long do you think he was standing there?”
    â€œI don’t know, but I’m sure even if he heard anything, our conversation was too general for him to suspect anything.”
    â€œRight.” Art walked to the door and turned back to face her. “I’ll take care of that matter today.” But he had already lost her attention.
    * * *
    April 19, 4:00 p.m. Boston
    The road show fast approaching, Dylan sat in his office waiting for his three ex-partners to join him. After many long and harrowing hours, they found themselves in Boston with enough time between appointments to be together. While Dylan waited, he thought back over the past two weeks.
    Dylan had shuttled back and forth between Boston and New York, spending long hours briefing Art on MobiCelus’s clients and on the state of the current, and emerging, mobile computing market.
    He found Art to be a quick study, with an almost uncanny ability to pick out the latest buzzwords and use them to his advantage in a casual, conversational manner. But Dylan recognized one flaw—that Art’s knowledge of technology was mired in smoke and mirrors. Dylan wondered if Art would be able to answer detailed