Chapter Fourteen
IF JAS DIDN’T leave the house soon, Katrina was going to kill him.
Okay, kill was, perhaps, too strong a word.
Tap, tap, tap.
Katrina’s eye twitched. Or not strong enough.
Doubtful anyone else would be annoyed by Jas tapping a pen on the table while he worked on his laptop, but repetitive noises made her head ache. Especially since he’d been doing it for the last two whole hours.
“Katrina?”
She refocused on the computer, where her two employees were gathered around a conference table. Being an investor wasn’t easy when one didn’t leave one’s home, but it was made simpler with a small staff of people she trusted implicitly to handle the face-to-face interactions and judgment calls that were necessary in this game. She leased a small, ridiculously expensive office in Silicon Valley for them.
So far, the system had worked. There was some speculation, but no one closely questioned who the wizard was behind the curtain of the KA Fund. Entrepreneurs were happy to get money, they rarely cared where it came from so long as they could keep building. “I’m sorry, Akash. Can you repeat that?”
Akash fiddled with the precise knot in his tie. He was her newest hire, and happened to be Rhiannon’s assistant’s cousin. Katrina trusted Lakshmi and Akash had struck her as clever and quick. He’d only worked for her for a year, but he’d done well in scouting out some good opportunities. They were working on his impulsiveness. “I was saying I think you ought to reconsider the handbag start-up.”
Carol was already shaking her head before Katrina could respond. She was in her fifties, and had been Katrina’s agent’s assistant many years ago. She was solid and cautious, and possessed an uncanny ability to suss out diamonds in the rough. “There are a million sustainable purse companies out there now. There’s nothing special about this one.” She grimaced. “Their samples are hideous, too.”
“It’s not about the company, it’s the people behind it,” Akash argued. “Two Stanford Ph.D.s.”
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Katrina glanced at Jas. He wasn’t using the pen anymore, but he was typing. Loudly. Was it his keyboard that was loud or his fingers? “Carol?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What do we say?”
“Just because Google was founded by two Stanford Ph.D.s doesn’t mean we hand out money to every Stanford Ph. Dick, Tom, and Harry that walks in our door,” Carol intoned.
Akash adjusted his glasses. “Of course, I wasn’t suggesting that.”
“I read an article that the 3-D printing company this start-up uses to make their purses shut down under some shady circumstances. They’re having severe issues sourcing the product.” Katrina read a lot of articles. Sometimes the information came in handy, and sometimes it was useless. She was happy this was a handy time. “It’s not worth the risk as it stands right now.”
“I missed that article.” Akash nodded, once. “I won’t bring it up again. I’m so sorry.”
“Please don’t be sorry. I’m fine with you arguing with me. Carol and I have had some epic arguments over the years, haven’t we, Carol?”
The lines around Carol’s light blue eyes crinkled. “Epic.”
“Sometimes she’s in the right, sometimes I am. I want you to feel free to air your opinions.”
Akash perked up. “Yes, ma’am.”
Click, click, click. That stupid pen again.
She gritted her teeth, then remembered her employees could see her. “Why don’t we pick this up later?”
“Sure.”
“No problem.”
“Is there anything else urgent you wanted to talk to me about?” She held her breath. She’d been holding her breath for the past hour, waiting for one of them to bring up CafeBae, but they hadn’t and they didn’t now.
She supposed there were still some people in the world who didn’t know she was trending. Or, they were too polite and kind and in love with their jobs.
She signed off, and turned to Jas with a determined smile. “Jas?” she asked sweetly.
He stopped mid-click on the pen. “Yes?”
“Do you have anything to do? Outside the house, perhaps?”
“Well I do have to take Doodle to the vet, but . . .”
Oh, wait, no. She didn’t hate the clicking so much she would sacrifice her pup. What if the vet knew who Doodle belonged to?
However, Doodle needed to be looked over by the doc to make sure she was okay. Katrina wanted to be a responsible dog owner. “Okay. That’s fine.”
“Now?” Jas looked at the dog sitting at her feet, one big paw covering her foot.
Best to get this potentially hurtful thing over with. “No time like the present.” She set her laptop aside and leaned forward. “Who wants to go for a car ride? Is it you, my sweet darling?” Doodle thumped her tail, but didn’t rise. She’d really taken to being a spoiled pet.
“I’d have to leave you alone.”
She stared at him, puzzled. “I’m home alone all the time back home.”
“No. That’s different. Gerald is around, and Jia and Rhiannon sometimes, plus the guards.”
“Well, what do you call the people in the car parked behind those trees?” She cocked her head. “You’re not my babysitter, Jas. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“I didn’t say you needed a babysitter.”
“There’s cameras all around the place. Alarms. Guards. I’m fine.”
“You could have a panic attack while you’re here alone.”
“So? I’ve had them before alone. I prefer to be alone, if I can’t be with someone I trust.” She raised a shoulder. “Take the dog to the vet. I will be absolutely fine.” And I will get all my work done, you beautiful distraction.
She rose to her feet and made a kissy noise at the dog. “Come on, Doodle. Come on. Let’s go to the car.”
Jas rose to his feet at the same time Doodle did, and Katrina hid her smile. Her coaxing tone was pretty good, she supposed.
JAS LEFT THE vet and wrapped the newly bought leash around his fist. “You’re not in the clear yet,” he told the dog. “You may not be chipped, but you heard the vet. There could still be someone looking for you.”
Doodle panted up at him. The black markings on her face made her look like a masked superhero.
He tugged on her leash, and she obediently followed. They’d settled into a grudging truce today. Doodle had easily gotten into the car. More important, she hadn’t ripped his throat out while he drove.
He hadn’t particularly wanted to bring her to the vet, and not only because it would leave Katrina alone, as he’d mentioned. He’d been tense, waiting for someone he’d grown up with to recognize him and stop him for an interminable amount of small talk. Small talk was the fifth horseman of the apocalypse.
He also hadn’t wanted to leave because he’d enjoyed the rare glimpse he’d gotten of Katrina at work. She was so smart.
He was about to open the door to the SUV when he glanced across the street and paused. His brother had had the same truck for years, his license plate held in a commemorative frame from his alma mater.