Chino wagged her tail.

"You know how much I love mommy Dar, right?" Kerry added, in a soft voice. "I can't wait till I get there, Chi. I can't wait till I see her, and I can give her a great big hug." She leaned over and hugged the dog. "Just like that, and I'll give her one for you too, okay?"

"Grrr."

"You know what? I think we might have a good time in New York. Maybe we can go to Central Park, and take a carriage ride." Kerry straightened a little. "I'd like that."

Stifling a yawn, she got up and headed back into the living room. Figuring the chances of being fed on an eight p.m. flight were slim and none, she decided to see what she could toss together for a quick dinner before she left. "C'mon, Chi...come get food."

She gave the dog a bowl of mixed kibble with some shredded chicken and got herself a cup of yogurt, a banana, some peanut butter, and the rest of her iced tea. "Mm." She surveyed her banquet. "But what I'm getting for dessert is worth it."

Cheerfully, she took the items into the living room and settled on the couch, flipping the television on to the news as she put her feet up and popped the top off her yogurt.

Now, at last, she listened as the power outage and it's restoration was explained. "Holy cow," she muttered around a mouthful of vanilla yogurt. "Look at that thing." A helicopter view of the Turkey Point nuclear plant showed the transformer building that had disintegrated, sending surges in all directions and causing the problem in the first place.

They'd been lucky. Only the transformer building had been affected by the explosion, as yet of unknown origin. Nothing had touched the nuclear part of the facility, but to say the authorities were nervous would be the biggest understatement of the fiscal year.

It was scary to think of what might have happened otherwise. Kerry felt a chill go down the back of her neck. "Tell you what, Chi," she murmured to the Labrador, who had finished her dinner and was now hopping on the couch to curl up next to Kerry. "I know where I'd like to be if the world blows up."

"Growf?"

"Mm." Kerry removed the cell phone from her belt and speed dialed, tossing her head to move her hair out of the way before she pressed the phone to her ear. "Hey, sweetie."

"Hey." Dar's voice sounded a half ton lighter than it had. "What's up? You leaving?"

"Just about. I'm having a banana first," Kerry told her. "Just wanted to know if you needed anything from here."

"You."

Kerry grinned at the ceiling. "Besides that," she said. "More undies? Shirts? Anything? I got a little room in my bag."

"Just you."

Kerry wriggled on the couch. "Okay. I'm heading out to the airport. See you in a few hours."

"I'll be there," Dar promised. "Hey...what'd you tell the terrible twosome?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" A laugh. "You stood them up? Really?"

"Sure did," Kerry agreed. "Fuck 'em. Hope they get run over by the guys on their bikes, and end up head over keister in Snake Creek canal."

"Kerrison." Dar laughed. "You little demon."

"Yeah." Kerry said. "Wait till you see my horns. You at dinner?"

"Yeah."

"See you in a few, hon."

Dar chuckled again. "Will do. See you later."

Kerry folded her phone and hauled herself off the couch, grabbing her banana as she headed for the bedroom. "Little demon," she repeated to herself, with a slight laugh. "Yeah, what a rebel I'm turning out to be. Dar, you don't know the half of it."

The sun twinkled placidly on her bag as she grabbed the handles and headed on out.

THEY'D FOUND THEIR way down to Mulberry Street, and into what was, for Manhattan, a relatively spacious and great smelling Italian restaurant by the time the sun was going down.

Dar settled into a seat near the window, eyeing the colorfully decorated walls with a bemused expression. "My partner would love this place."

Hans flipped the menu over and then tossed it aside. "I will take your word for it. Do they have something with fish here?"

Dar investigated. "Yes. Grilled salmon or snapper francese," she reported. "What's your poison?"

"If I were French, that would be an excellent joke," he replied. "I will have the snapper, and if they can please give me the noodles with just some olive oil. I do not like tomatoes."

Dar leaned back and extended her legs, crossing them at the ankles under the table. She didn't mind the restaurant, but already her body was twitching with impatience, willing the minutes to go by faster. "You still mad at me?" she inquired.

"Yes," Hans said. "You have made me too much work."

Dar merely grinned and played with her fork.

"Why could you not have said this when this program was being written?"

"I wasn't asked."

Hans made a face. "This client, yes? He is not so bright." He grumbled.

The waiter breezed by and simply looked at Dar with a raised eyebrow. "Bier?" Dar guessed, getting a nod from Hans. "Two of whatever import you have on tap, the appetizer sampler, one snapper with no sauce on the pasta, one veal the same way, and a side of olive oil."

"Awright," the waiter grunted, putting down a basket of bread and walking off.

"Very nice." Hans chuckled wryly. "It is so wonderful to be here in the friendly United States."

"This is Manhattan," Dar advised him. "You're lucky he didn't throw the bread at you." She took a piece and nibbled it. "Godson's all right. He's no technical genius, but he's pretty good on the financial side. I thought it was his VP who pushed the project through."

"Meyer?" Hans frowned. "He came late to the table on it. I think he has not been here that long." He selected a bread stick and broke it in half, placing one half on the table and chewing the other. "He does not care for you."

Dar shrugged. "He's at the end of a very long line." She watched the waiter as he returned and put down two frosty looking mugs, dribbling foam down their sides and onto the table. "Thanks."

"No problem." The waiter turned and left again.

"He's got his own agenda." Dar continued, taking a sip of her beer. "He's got an interest in a competitor of mine. Wanted to bring them in to save the day."

"Pah." Hans snorted. "Yes, I thought he was something like a player." He chewed his breadstick thoughtfully. "It could be he knew this was a problem, and did not want to change it. However, he does not understand technical matters which did indeed surprise me."

Dar tilted her head. "You mean he didn't understand programming?"

Hans waggled his index finger. "He does not understand technology in the least," he said. "He says...how do you say it here, he uses buzz words?"

"Huh."

"But if you question him closely, as I did, he has no understanding. I used this to my advantage, I do admit. I learned I could tell him anything and he would go along," Hans went on, in a mild tone. "His background, maybe, was business, not computers?"

"Mm. Could be," Dar agreed. "He kept telling me that we would have to take care of the problem ourselves. He didn't think you would cooperate."

"Me? I am a businessman," Hans objected. "I keep to my contract, and the contract says yes, we will make this program work. I do not have to like it, and I do not have to be pleased with having to do so much work, but I am a fair man." He took a gulp of beer and set the mug down. "If he says anything else, it is not true."

Dar nodded slightly. "I don't think he counted on me speaking German."

"Well, I did not either," Hans chuckled abruptly. "To be honest. I have used this to my advantage in this situation many times as well. It is easier to just accept what is given, and not have to struggle to communicate." He leaned back. "But, when I arrived, and we spoke, I rearranged my plans, and so here we are."

"Here we are," Dar agreed. "And, for the record, I really didn't want to make you change your whole damn program."

"I am not," Hans replied in an unruffled tone. "I have sent the damn thing back in pieces to Germany, and six young healthy boys are right now sweating over changing it while I sit here having reasonably good beer and horrible service in the good old US."

Dar started laughing. "You fraud."

"I am not." He maintained a dignified air.

Dar's cell phone rang, interrupting their debate. She pulled it out and opened it. "Yeah?"

"Well, hello Dar!" Alastair answered. "How are things? Sounds busy there!"

"I'm in an Italian restaurant," she answered dryly. "So yeah, it is. Things are all right. We found the problem."

"Did you? Great!" her boss said. "Not that I'm surprised. Listen, something's come up."

Damn. "Yeah?" Dar responded warily.

"Don't worry, it's not a disaster," Alastair chuckled. "Matter of fact, it's good news for a change. Bob Alexander just gave me a call. He's my opposite number for Allied Cruising."

"Ah."

"He's been watching the action around our little bid war. He's interested."

"In?" Dar inquired. "He wants to buy out those little stinkers, and put me out of my misery with the whole damn thing?"

The CEO snorted. "Nothing that simple. He's been thinking about upgrading his fleet. Eighty-seven ships. He says he's going to look hard at going with whoever wins the little one."

Dar blinked. "Holy crap."

"Uh huh," Alastair agreed smugly. "So those peanuts could turn into gold leaf peanut butter, lady. I knew the big boys were keeping an eye on this whole little circus, but Alexander sounds serious."