her ready bag, and ran back to the cab.
“That was fast,” the cabby said.
“I’m nothing if not fast,” Harp replied. She got back on her iPhone and Googled TIT. An address in Palo Alto, a clip from some electronics trade magazine about a potential investment, and that was it. Technology Investment Team must be very new, she thought.
She booked a rental car and a hotel room online.
24
Her flight got into San Francisco International in the early evening. She walked quickly to the rental car desk, rolling her bag behind her. “Something with a navigator,” she said to the woman manning the desk. She took the shuttle to the lot and found the car, got it cranked, and entered two addresses into the navigator.
The woman’s voice got her successfully out of the airport and on the interstate to Palo Alto. An hour later, she sat in front of the address for TIT and took a good look at the building, then she got out and walked into the outer lobby and checked the building directory. Ninth floor of twelve. She noticed that two other companies occupied the ninth, and it wasn’t that big a building. Then she got back into her car and pulled up her hotel’s address in the navigator.
In her room, she ordered a steak from room service and had a double scotch from the minibar. After dinner, she watched an old movie on TV, until she fell asleep.
She woke up after nine, showered, dressed, and checked out of the hotel. Back at the office building, she took the elevator to the ninth floor and found the TIT door. She walked in and found a barely furnished reception area, no receptionist. From there, she could see into a small conference room, and she could hear the clicking of a computer keyboard. She followed the noise to an open door and found a young Asian man in an office containing only a steel desk and two chairs, working at a laptop.
“Hey, Jimmy,” she said.
He looked up. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
“My name’s Harp, like the beer. Now you know me.” She sat down in the other chair.
“Did Mo Shazaz send you?” he asked. “I’m anxious to meet him face-to-face.”
“Not exactly,” she said. “I’m here representing the firm you still work for.”
“And who would that be?”
Harp opened her briefcase and held up a document. “High Cotton Ideas. I’ve got a copy of your signed contract right here.”
“How the hell did you find me?” Jimmy asked.
“Everybody always asks me that,” Harp replied. “It’s just what I do, that’s all.”
“You find people for a living?”
“I do a lot of things, finding people is just one of them. Now listen carefully. I have some advice for you.”
“I need advice from you?”
“Yes, and badly. You are in violation of the terms of your employment contract, stated very clearly in this document. I’m surprised your attorney didn’t explain that to you.”
“Yeah, well, contracts are made to be broken.”
“I can tell you’re a bright guy, Jimmy, but believe me, intelligence does not buy wisdom, and what you’ve done is very unwise. That little start-up you worked for back in New York is now a professionally run corporation, with all the legal safeguards in place to protect its property, which still includes you.”
“They don’t own me.”
“Of course they do, Jimmy, you just haven’t figured that out yet. Now, there’s a legal and proper way to separate yourself from High Cotton, but you haven’t followed that procedure. You need to come back to New York with me and talk with Mark Hayes and with Herb Fisher, his attorney.”
“Yeah, I know Fisher, the legal shark.”
“Finally you’ve said something smart, Jimmy. Herb is certainly a shark, and he patrols the waters that High Cotton operates in, and he can make your life miserable.”
“I’ve already got a new deal,” Jimmy said.
“Look around you, Jimmy. Does this look like the offices of a legitimate venture capital firm?”
“The new furniture arrives next week,” Jimmy said.
“No, it doesn’t,” Harp replied. “Mo Shazaz is scamming you. He wants something from you that you can’t legally give him-the trade secrets of your employer. If you take his money, then you will spend the next decade in the courts. How much money have you saved?”
“Enough.”
“Not enough. It will all go to your lawyers, and the wheels of justice grind exceedingly slowly. Are you beginning to get the picture?”
“I’ve already taken Mo’s money.”
“Have you cashed the check?”
“Not yet.”
“Tear it in half and leave it on the desk with a very brief note saying the deal’s off.”
“Does Mark really want me back that bad?”
“Bad enough to send me out here to bring you back,” Harp said.
“I’m not legally required to go with you.”
“I can have a court order by mid-afternoon,” she lied, “if that’s the way you want to go, but believe me, this will be a much more pleasant experience if you just come with me now. We have a two P.M. airplane back to New York, and we’ll have time for a nice lunch at the airport.”
Jimmy looked confused. “I’ve got to call…”
“Call Jasmine from the airport,” Harp suggested.
“How do you know about Jasmine?”
“Oh, Jasmine Shazaz is famous at a certain level of the tech world,” Harp lied again. “You’re not the first hotshot techie she’s lured away from a great job with promises of billions. You don’t want to see her again.”
Jimmy stared forlornly at his keyboard.
“Just close the laptop, put it away, and come with me.”
“I’ll need to stop at the hotel and pick up my clothes.”
Harp shook her head. “Time is of the essence, Jimmy. You have to be back in your office at High Cotton at nine tomorrow morning, if you’re going to have a chance to make this right. I’ll arrange for the hotel to ship your luggage back to New York, and I’ll see that your bill is paid.”
“I need to call Mo Shazaz,” he said.
“He won’t answer his phone. Has he ever answered his phone?” She was taking a chance here.
“No, now that you mention it. He always calls back the next day.”
Harp stood up. “Come on, Jimmy, let’s get out of here while you still can.”
Jimmy stood up, closed his laptop, yanked the cord from the receptacle, and shoved it into a canvas briefcase.
They were in the car before Harp spoke again. “Let’s use the time to the airport,” she said. “Tell me what Mo wanted you to do for him.” She listened while he talked for a while, then she spoke again. “Jimmy, you’re well out of this. You were about to get mixed up in something that would have ended in disaster for you.”
Jimmy took out his cell phone.
“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t let anyone know where you are. I’ll put you into a good hotel in New York, and then I’m going to get you the help you need to get out of this mess.”
In the airline’s VIP lounge, she waited for Jimmy to go to the men’s room before she called Herb.
“Where are you?” he asked.
