Love in Sweetwater

Have you ever heard of the term ‘ghost CEO’? No? Okay, well, I’m coining the term, because that is who I am - a ghost.

It all started back when I was in college, when I met my best friend Harry. He was the life and soul of the party, the goodtime guy. Part of me was envious of him, but the other part was relieved. I hated people. There were exceptions to that, but in the main? I didn’t like them. Someone was always driven by their own interests; there was always an agenda behind their actions.

Even Harry had an agenda; you see, he excelled at party life and being the social butterfly, but he was failing most of his courses. He noticed how quiet I was and how well I was doing and proposed a partnership of sorts. I would help him with his courses, and he would help me with whatever I needed.

At first, I thought about getting him to help me be a regular guy who went to parties and socialised. Then one day, we were both walking to class, and he was panicking about the flashcards I had made for his test. He had left them back in our dorm room, and an idea came to me. What if there were an app that helped you keep your notes in one place and converted them into easy revision methods?

That was the day ‘Note-It’ was born, and Harry became my guinea pig and partner in crime. Fast forward to today, and while Harry is the face of Trem Tech, that’s for show. In reality, I am the central cog in the machine, the decision-maker, and the one who owns it all.

Why hide away, I hear you ask? It’s simple, greed. When I sold ‘Note-It’ for a hefty three million five years ago, every single one of my family members came running. All wanted a handout despite not wanting anything to do with me for years before. You see, when I dropped out of college to work on my app, they disowned me, writing me off as nothing more than a waste of time, but when the money flowed, they changed their tune. They wanted back in, but by that point, I realised that everyone has an agenda, no matter how small.

So I decided that with my new company, I didn’t want to be the face. I wanted to be in the shadows and continue to design new apps, without dealing with the day-to-day bullshit. The only people who knew my identity were the board of directors, my assistant and Harry. As far as the world was concerned, and my employees, Harry Fitzgerald was the face and CEO of Trem Tech.

My latest venture is a booking software that can be used by any facility looking to book appointments or rooms. I’ve built it so it can be a one-stop shop, from managing the business finances to simply booking someone in. It’s still in the early stages, but it’s looking set to generate a significant amount of money for this company and my employees.

I’m dragged out of my thoughts when the intercom buzzes, and my assistant’s light flashes on the machine. I click the button. “Yep.”

“Mr Fitz…” She doesn’t get to finish her sentence because, at that moment, the heavy, dark oak doors to my office open, and in walks Harry. The wary look on his face has my hackles rising.

“What’s wrong?” My brow creases; he’s usually all laughs and smiles. This doesn’t feel right.

“We have a problem with Book-It.” His eyes are grave, and I wait for the punchline, because he has to be joking.

“What do you mean, we have a problem?” I grit the words out because he hasn’t so much as cracked a smile yet.

His shoulders drop, and he throws himself into the chair in front of my desk, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “Somehow, and I don’t know how, Grey Technologies is bringing out a new software, just announced. They’re calling it, Book-With-It.”

Mic, fucking drop.

Before I can respond, he carries on. “I looked at what they’re offering…it’s the exact same thing you’re building.”

Confusion fills me. “So? We patented that design. Get Clive and the rest of the fucking sharks I keep on retainer and have them file the biggest fucking lawsuit known to man. Problem solved.”

The look he gives me is one of pure terror. “Ros, man. I don’t know how to tell you this, but…the patent wasn’t filed.”

“Please tell me, Harry, that you’re joking. Why the fuck do I pay for lawyers and staff that deal with this if they aren’t fucking dealing with it?” I bellow out the last words because I’m fucking furious that someone’s fuck up has cost us this design.

He holds his hands up in front of him, and his face softens. “I know. I know how fucked up this is, but I’ll find out who fucked up and I’ll find out who leaked this…I promise. I’ve never let you down before, have I?”

I shake my head. “No, you haven’t, Harry, but someone has royally fucked up here, and I don’t want anyone resting until the culprit is found.”

He stands from the chair and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’ll pull every design we have and keep them locked up for now…just until we find out who’s responsible.”

I nod. “Good idea. We completely close down Harry. I want Clive to go through everything with a fine-tooth comb and find out why this patent wasn’t processed.” I walk over to the cabinet I hold my drinks in and pull out two tumblers before sloshing in some of the expensive amber liquid I keep. I hand one to Harry. “I’d be lost without you.”

He swigs his drink in one gulp and claps me on the shoulder. “Same man. We’ll get through this, one way or another.”

I like his optimism, but I’m not so sure.

One thing I do know is there’s a snake in my home, and I have no clue who it may be.