Free The Money Is Green by Mr Owen Sullivan Page A

to fly out here and visit you in California instead.”
    Crystal leapt up from her chair, her arms pressed firmly on her thighs. “What do you mean I’m not going to North Dakota? Mom said you’d try this because you’re too cheap to buy me a ticket. If I have to rob a 7-11 I’m going to find the money to get out of here.” She grabbed her backpack and stormed out of the kitchen.
    Jason sat in stunned silence. Okay, time for me to tell her the truth. Janine is right, we can’t continue on like this. It’s time she understands what really happened between me and her mother. Jason got up and knocked softly on Crystal’s bedroom door. “Sweetie, can I come in? There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

N INE
    T he white golf ball rolled slowly toward the putting machine sitting on the carpeted floor, hit the lip, and bounced into the indentation the size of the ball. A small piston, engaged once the ball rested in the slot, punched the ball fifteen feet back, and it came to rest where it started at the face of Brian Thompson’s putter. Brian was the same height as Jason, six foot two, but a few years older. His wavy dark hair had streaks of grey in it and was thinning at the top. His tanned face and arms gave him a healthy look, as if he spent a lot of time outdoors, which he did on the golf course, when he wasn’t working. He was the type of person who could light up a room with his smile, but when he was serious, people listened.
    Brian was still leaning over the putter when the ball returned, and with an unlit cigar in his mouth, he gave a tug to his light grey slacks and struck the ball back toward the plastic device.
    Jason, sitting at an overstuffed chair in front of Brian’s desk, watched the ball roll straight into the plastic cup. “You should be on tour, Brian,” he teased. “Those are money putts.”
    Brian straightened up and rested the putter against the wall as the ball shot back. He sat down behind his expansive walnut desk. Hewinked at Jason and chomped down on his cigar. “In my dreams, I could be on tour. So, let’s see what you’ve brought me.”
    Scooting his chair up closer to the desk, Jason reached into the briefcase and pulled out a stack of bound documents. He handed one set to Brian and kept the other for himself. Leafing through it, he stopped and looked up. “If you go to page eight, Brian, that’s the amount of the bid. Behind that page are the corresponding documentation and back-up data to support the bid. If you look on page twenty-seven, I’ve done an analysis that shows you the price of the system and the corresponding tax credits you get from the federal government and the effective reduction in cost to the system.”
    He paused to let Brian catch up to where he was in the bid packet.
    Jason continued. “When all the tax breaks and credits are taken into consideration, the system will pay for itself in five point three years. Your internal rate of return is close to ten percent.”
    Brian studied the numbers, picked up a pencil, and wrote some notes on a legal pad. He reached out and started punching numbers on the calculator sitting on the desk. After about ten minutes, he looked up and smiled. “I’m impressed, Jason. I think your numbers are very accurate and competitive. I also like the way you’ve shown me how the project will pencil out for my investors. I’ll have to take your word that the internal rate of return is what you say it is, as this calculator doesn’t do that calculation, but I’m sure you’re close.”
    Jason smiled and closed the document. “Have you secured the lease from BLM for the land yet? I heard the Power Purchase Agreement was almost ready for a signature.”
    Leaning back in his chair, Brian nodded. “The lease was signed a few weeks ago. Dealing with the Department of the Interior is a pain in the ass. Even though we’ve got Congressman Waters pushing for us, it was like pulling teeth. I’ve warned Mei to make sure