Fatal Attraction (Dark Desires 4)

“And there are a hundred million dating apps,” Reed said, just being a dick because it made him happy to do so.

“Yes, but there has never been an app for seniors,” the great nephew said. “We’d be breaking new ground with Gray Date. The upside is huge. People are living longer, having sex longer. This is an idea whose time has come.”

Reed shook his head. “Did your marketing people write that speech for you?”

“What? Well… no… but…”

“Look, guys, here’s my take on the idea,” Reed said seriously. “When it comes to old people, the only ground breaking happens at the graveyard.” He shot me a grin. He really was a heartless son of a bitch. I loved it. “I mean, come on, a dating app for old people? Really? Are there any old people in the room there? Patterson, how old are you?”

“I’m fifty-seven…”

“So not that old.”

“Well, no…”

“Okay, do any of you guys know any old people other than your parents?” Reed asked. “I assume you don’t want to think about your parents getting laid, so let’s not include them.”

“Well, I’m sure Uncle Henry would use this app,” the nephew said.

“Your Uncle Henry doesn’t even own a cell phone,” Reed said. “You’re creating technology for the one demographic who hates technology.”

“Well, I’m not sure that’s exactly true…”

“Have you guys done a focus group?” I asked, getting in on the fun.

“A focus group? I’m not sure I understand what use a focus group would do in this case.”

“Because you don’t think old folks can focus?” Reed shot back. He sighed again, louder this time, and shook his head. “You guys are digging your own graves on this one.”

Patterson spoke up. “I assumed we had done focus groups.” A moment of silence. “Have we not done focus groups?”

I smiled at Reed. The silence on the other end of the line was the sound of a job opening. Old man Price’s great nephew’s butt had to be puckering. I just hoped to God this didn’t backfire and the incompetent fuck end up back in my lap for mentoring.

“Let’s just cut to the chase guys,” Reed said. “You do not have a prayer in hell of getting funded by us or anyone until you have documentation that shows you got a few dozen senior men and women into a room to see if they would even be interested in using an app. More to the point, you need to find out if they even can learn to use one.”

“I agree,” Patterson said. “Gentleman, apparently we have wasted an hour of your time.”

“Actually, an hour and twelve minutes,” Reed said. “I’ll give your best to Mr. Price. Call us back when you have data to back up your assumptions.”

He clicked the button to end the call before they could respond. He walked to the bar and came back with the decanter of scotch and refilled both our glasses.

“That went well,” I said with a grin as I lifted my glass and tapped it to his. “The old man might not be happy, but we just saved the firm a few hundred million.”

“The old man won’t be a problem,” Reed said. “He knew his nephew was full of shit from the start. He also knew you and I wouldn’t have a problem calling bullshit on these guys.”

“We should have lined up shots,” I said, remembering the game I’d played with Mollie on New Year’s Eve.”

Reed frowned at me. “What?”

“Nothing. I’m just glad the old man isn’t going to have a problem with us turning them down,” I said. I glanced at my watch. I had another conference call already waiting for me on the line.

“Speaking of problems, we have a potential shit storm on our hands,” Reed said, smacking his lips. “The Benson acquisition seems to be running off the rails.”

I gave him a frown. “Benson? I thought that was a done deal. What’s the problem?”

“The problem is Allen Benson has called in an outside law firm to review our offer,” Reed said, referring to the CEO of Benson Digital, a small manufacturer of computer parts that PB&W was looking to acquire. We had no interest in the manufacturing end of the business, just the patents the company held on a new computer chip it had developed. Benson had no idea, but the plan was to buy the company, fire everyone, shut down the manufacturing plant, and sell off the patents to the highest bidder. PB&W stood to make a hundred million dollars or more. That was if the deal could be done before Benson realized what we had in mind.

“An outside law firm? I don’t understand. Didn’t Benson’s in-house counsel approve the deal?”