Free Night Monsters by Lee Allen Howard Page A

day. New business with a guy named Levesque from some company with an acronym he couldn’t interpret.
    He started a fresh pot of coffee and carried his presentation materials to the front conference room. David the receptionist was shrugging on his coat.
    “Wyatt, I’m gone for the day. I set the phones on night-ring. I know you’ve got a late appointment, so listen for the door.”
    “All right, good night.”
    David pushed through the front doors and disappeared into the parking lot.
    Wyatt prepared the laptop for the multimedia demo. He retrieved the coffee and two clean Symplex mugs. He was arranging the tray on the conference table when someone knocked on the reception desk. Wyatt straightened his tie before entering the foyer.
    A slender man over six feet with short, dark hair and finely sculpted features stood holding his overcoat.
    “Mr. Levesque? Wyatt Bell. Welcome to Symplex Systems.”
    Levesque shook firmly with a large, strong hand.
    “Let me take your coat.” Wyatt hung the heavy wool wrap in the hall closet.
    “Won’t you step into the conference room? I’ve got everything set up.” Wyatt preceded Levesque into the room.
    “Coffee?” Wyatt asked.
    “No thank you, but you go ahead.” Levesque’s voice was deep and soft with a vague European accent, and when he smiled, his dark eyes sparkled.
    Wyatt poured coffee in his mug and stationed himself beside the laptop.
    Levesque described the current operations of Ex Libris Corporation, a large book chain, and explained why their Data Services Division was interested in a Symplex solution. Wyatt listened attentively, commenting and asking for clarification when necessary.
    He dimmed the overhead lights and started the recorded presentation. As the familiar sounds and images about scalable servers played on the slim screen, Wyatt daydreamed about Natalie, how her hair cascaded across the pillows, the way she bit her lower lip, the long, sharp nails she dug into his back. . . .
    “I can see you’re preoccupied,” Levesque said.
    Wyatt snapped to attention. The presentation had ended and he hadn’t noticed.
    “I’m sorry, Mr. Levesque. It’s been a long day.”
    “Then you’ve had no dinner.” Nothing in Levesque’s tone or expression betrayed annoyance. “Tell you what. I need this information by tomorrow, but why don’t you relax for a while, have something to eat—I’ve already eaten—and then meet me for a drink, say, around eight.”
    Wyatt was grateful for Levesque’s understanding. He found himself saying, “That sounds like a great idea. You know Brochere’s?”
    “Fine place. I’ll see you there.”
    Wyatt stood with Levesque, helped him with his coat, and watched him disappear into the darkness outside.
    What a nice guy , he thought, gathering his materials for their evening meeting. He would try harder to win his business.
    After shutting down the laptop and flicking off the lights, Wyatt locked the front doors and headed for his car.
    •     •     •
    At his apartment, Wyatt pressed the message button on his answering machine. Something sultry from Natalie. Then her voice turned businesslike, and she apologized that she couldn’t come over that evening.
    “You’ll just have to save up double for next time,” she whispered. “I’ll be waiting. . . .”
    He wanted to call her back and leave her a dirty message, but he didn’t dare. He called only her cell phone, when she was at work.
    Wyatt showered and ate leftover Chinese food. Then he left for Brochere’s.
    The lights were dim inside the lounge, where a few stragglers remained from happy hour. Wyatt was glad he wouldn’t have to shout to make himself heard. He found a secluded table big enough to spread some literature.
    A minute later, Levesque strode past the bar, heading toward the table. He smiled warmly, and Wyatt stood to greet him.
    “Feeling refreshed?” Levesque shed his overcoat. He was still wearing the same fine wool suit, but had