"
William remained silent, praying that Worthy would go on and
spill everything he knew about Wallaby and its interest in Locke.
"I think Matthew wanted me to tell him he was guaranteed my job
when I retire. When I told him I couldn't do that, not yet
anyway, he said then that he was going to fly out there to
California and see what the company was all about.
"I just can't figure it," Worthy remarked. He paused and slung
his towel over his shoulder. "Why would some hippie bantam
computer nerds want to hire the president of a company that makes
soda pop and chips?"
Harrell knew precisely why. What had he been mulling over all
morning? The only factor preventing Wallaby from becoming a bona
fide threat was that Peter Jones lacked the business savvy
necessary to take his small company into big business. His
intuition about Jones had been correct. The young man was looking
to hire an innkeeper to run the shop so he could concentrate on
building the nifty toys.
"You think they're going to start stuffing little computers into
cereal boxes?" Worthy quipped with a chuckle as the two men
headed for the showers.
Despite the hot shower, William Harrell felt washed with a
chilling morbid dread. Not since his wife had begun her slide
into the final stages of cancer had he felt that same feeling of
helplessness that comes when loss seems inevitable.
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