Page 165 of Billion-Dollar Attitudes

"You can have the hot women...."

"Oh, so you and Meagan are really dating this time? She's a hot number herself."

"It's looking more and more like that," I said, winking, before walking to the cashier to pay my tab. Then I unlocked my Escalade and put our gear in the back. Soon our thoughts were on work, and the grant came up. "So, how's it coming on the grant research? Have you found anything we can use as a guide?"

Mitch ran his hands through his hair — frustration etched onto his face. "I tried to hack into a few databases to get some answers," he said, shaking his head. "But I had no luck. I've tried changing my IP address and using multiple machines, but the firewalls are too secure." He sighed heavily and leaned back in his seat. "This is one mystery I just can't seem to crack — yet."

"Well, don't beat yourself up. It's not like we're trying to crack Fort Knox here," I said with a chuckle. "Let's get back to the office and see if there are any other leads we can follow up on."

Mitch nodded in agreement, but even as I pulled into the parking lot of Rosedale Tech, the anxiety building in my gut felt like prickly thorns. The success of the Golden Key Project was crucial to Rosedale’s financial stability for the year. While we had made large strides in developing the software to the state's specifications, the fear of not receiving funding was becoming increasingly palpable. The responsibility of finding someone to write the grant now weighed solely on my shoulders, and the consequences of failure loomed ominously in my mind.

"Hey, don't worry," Mitch said with a reassuring pat on my shoulder as he got out of the car. "We'll figure this out. I'm sure of it."

Something told me the shit was about to hit the fan when I stepped off the elevator, and Courtney rushed up to me, waving a piece of paper. "Mr. Stratford, we just received some urgent news," she said, her voice strained with worry. "The deadline for the grant application has been moved up, and we need to submit everything by the end of next month. That's just six weeks away and..."

I felt a knot form in my stomach. We had been counting on Clint to write the grant, but he had been unreachable for the past few days. "Have you been able to get in touch with Clint?" I asked, my voice laced with desperation.

Courtney shook her head. "No, sir. I've tried calling and emailing him, but I haven't been able to get a response."

I cracked my knuckles, feeling a sense of despair fill my chest. Without Clint's help, we didn't stand a chance of getting the grant submitted in time. "Keep trying," I told Courtney, my voice urgent. "We need to get in touch with him, no matter what it takes."

Courtney nodded, her expression serious. "I'll do my best, sir," she said before hurrying to her desk to make another attempt at reaching Clint. I watched her go, feeling a sense of helplessness swirling around me.

As I approached my office, deep in contemplation, Daniel stood outside the door with a phone plastered to his ear, gesturing wildly. He mouthed, "It's Clint!" while pointing at the device — apparently, he was already aware of our colleague being in town before me. I grinned with relief and quickly stepped inside, ready to hear the rest of the story.

Then my phone buzzed. "Mr. Stratford. Oh, my God. It's the front desk. Mr. Tyree is here! He's here in the building...."

My mind was reeling, but I didn't have time to try to figure out why Courtney hadn't been able to contact the man. Just one more riddle to unravel later. "Tell the guys we'll meet in the small conference room as usual."

"Glad you could make it, Clint," I said, shaking the man's hand with a firm grip. "We've been trying to get ahold of you."

"Oh, I broke my phone and had to get a new one. It just now uploaded everything. Been fighting with Verizon for several days now. Sorry, we lost touch."

As we huddled around the conference table, Clint produced a contract that indicated his fee would be ten percent of the total profit. “If you sign here, Chase, I'll share with you what I've started. The Golden Key Project is indeed an interesting one."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Ten percent of our cut was an exorbitant fee, especially for a grant that wasn't even guaranteed yet. "That's over three million dollars," I protested, feeling a wave of anger rising within me. "That's outrageous."

Clint leaned back in his chair; his expression smug. "I know it might seem like a lot, but I can assure you that my services are worth every penny. I've helped countless clients secure grants, and I know exactly what the judges are looking for. Plus, with my help, I guarantee we'll have the best shot at getting the funding we need."

I glared at him, feeling a sense of betrayal. We had been friends for years, and now he was trying to take advantage of our situation. "I appreciate your help, Clint, but we just don't have the funds to pay that kind of fee. I'm sorry."

Clint's expression hardened. "Suit yourself, Chase. But I can tell you right now, without my help; you don't stand a chance at getting the grant. And even if you do, you'll be leaving a lot of money on the table."

I gritted my teeth, feeling a sense of frustration building to the breaking point. We were running out of time, and now we faced a major roadblock. I knew we needed to come up with a solution fast if we were to save the project.

"Hold on a minute," Daniel interjected, breaking the tense silence in the room. "Clint, we have confidence in your abilities. We remember how you got through college writing all types of grants. But ten percent is a steep fee, and we simply don't have the funds to pay you that much upfront."

Clint leaned forward in his chair, his eyes brightening with renewed hope. "I understand," he said. "And I'm willing to be flexible on the payment structure. We can work out an installment plan that will be fair for everyone. Plus, if you're willing to provide a per diem that will ensure that I have a beautiful place to stay and a private office to work out of, I can give the project my full attention."

I could see Daniel nodding in agreement, and I knew that we were making progress. With Clint's expertise, we had a real shot at securing the grant we needed. But we had to move quickly, and we had to come up with a plan that would work for everyone. The fate of the Golden Key Project hung in the balance, and so did the fate of Rosedale Technologies.

“Time is running out,” I groused, scrawling my signature on the contract.

Chapter Twelve

Meagan

As I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, a wave of anticipation and excitement swept over me — could it be Chase? Ahh, nope, when I checked the text message, it was from Ariel.

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