Page 169 of Billion-Dollar Attitudes

"Listen, Chase, she'll take it better from you. You must set her straight. What if she —”

"Honestly, man, I know you're worried about her. But I don't think it's a good idea. She seems to be doing fine... making good decisions, and her memory is coming back. Anyway, there's something more serious we need to discuss than Meagan taking a joy ride in her Mustang." I motion with my head for Guy to follow me.

We stepped inside his office, and I shut the door. "Meagan dreamed about Alex, you know, the guy you thought was —”

"A fucking punk... What did she dream about?" Guy crossed his arms over his chest.

"He was in the car with Chelsea. She can remember hearing them talking, but she couldn't understand them."

"Of course, she couldn't. She was in the trunk!"

I raised my hands to calm him down before I triggered him again. "I know this is like throwing gas on a raging fire, but do you think we should report this to Carter?"

"Let's think about it. For now, let's just keep this between you and me. I don't want to upset the applecart with my sister. You're right! She is definitely making progress... thanks to you, my friend. And let's face it, telling inspector Clouseau will change absolutely nothing."

Giving him a thumbs up, we headed back toward the break room to grab a cup of coffee and greeted Clint coming down the hall. "I have some questions I need answers to before moving forward with the next section of the grant."

"Well, let's meet up in the conference room and figure it out," Clint said while checking his phone for a text.

As we huddled around the conference table with our steaming cups of coffee, Clint produced his notebook and meticulously scanned its contents. His eyes darted across data points and diagrams before he paused briefly to take a sip from his mug. It was clear he had done his homework. Several pieces were in place for a successful grant application. However, some unknowns still needed to be addressed before it could be finalized. Clint and I went over each item individually until we were satisfied for the moment.

With a glint in his eye and an air of confidence, Clint declared, "This is just the beginning — prepare yourselves! This grant is a real bitch."

"So, what's the deal?" I asked, eager to hear what questions he had.

"Well," he started, "as I've been thinking about the Golden Key Project, I'm just unsure about some logistics. For example, have we considered how we're going to handle potential breaches or attacks?"

I leaned forward, intrigued by his question. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean, you need a contingency plan in case something goes wrong. The state will want that, for sure. You can't just assume everything will work perfectly," he explained. "You need to think about how you're going to respond if someone tries to break into your system, not just that of the state. California will hold you responsible if the Golden Key software fails. You have to be prepared for any kind of attack, even if it's unlikely."

I nodded. "We thought we had, Clint. Have you come up with other ideas of vulnerability?"

Clint nodded and began to click through his notes again. "I was thinking that you could have a team of experts on call, ready to respond in case of an emergency. And we could also run regular simulations to test the system and ensure it's as secure as possible."

I was impressed by his ideas and could see how they would be essential to the success of the project. "Those are great suggestions," I said, giving him a nod. “Let’s make sure to include them in the next section of the grant proposal."

Clint smiled, looking pleased with himself. “Sounds good," he said.

As we discussed the Golden Key Project's details, I felt my enthusiasm multiply for this cybersecurity project and its possible effects in California. With my trust in Clint's skills as a grant writer, I was sure we could acquire the resources required to make this project come alive. By doing so, I would have the necessary funds to make my dream come true — by surprising Meagan with a brilliant plan for redecorating my man cave into something she would absolutely adore.

Clint then tossed his cup into the trash, firmly declaring. "I'll need you to hasten my next payment outlined in our contract."

I wrinkled my forehead in disbelief. "We already gave you money for the first half of the grant!"

"But the task is not done yet," Clint replied calmly, "and trust me, a few extra bucks to grease the wheels of progress will make all the difference. I have faith in your mission — and so should you."

I chuckled at his audacity. "What guarantees do we have that you will finish the work?"

"My word! Isn't that enough?"

Daniel stood and broke the tension in the room. "I believe in Clint, and I'm sure he can take us where we need to be."

Daniel and Clint shared a look of understanding before turning toward me, but the others were not so easily convinced. Finally, Ryder spoke up. "Clint, we do appreciate all you are doing to help with this grant, so I would like to suggest we make one good-faith payment of half of what is due when the grant is finished."

Clint nodded, "I will agree to that."

"What do the rest of you think... Brad, Guy... Mitch?" They nodded and gave a thumbs-up. I was a bit uneasy that we might be setting ourselves up for failure if he didn't follow through. Yet a part of me was relieved that we had worked things out. So, I picked up the office phone and called Courtney, instructing her to join us and to bring the company checkbook.

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