Rooms - James L. Rubart [38]
His thoughts turned to Archie’s letter.
Guarding his heart? What did that mean? Against what? Ninety-nine percent of the world wanted the fame and fortune he had, so he must already be guarding his heart on a Secret Service level.
“The pathway to the heart is always by the Spirit, and the pathway to the Spirit is by the heart.” Archie’s line sounded like something Rick would say.
Micah rolled his eyes, pushed a button on his steering wheel, and let the sounds of classic rock drown out the questions that played big-time wrestling in his mind.
“God? I’m open to learning what I’m supposed to learn here. Wouldn’t want to give me some answers, would You?”
A thought lit up his mind like a flash of lightning.
Get ready.
CHAPTER 15
Well, well, well, Mr. Taylor, welcome to RimSoft,” Shannon said to Micah as he walked past her antique Georgian walnut desk on Friday morning. ��So nice to have you come visit our little company during the month of June.”
“Hah.” Micah stopped and sat in the burgundy leather chair next to Shannon’s desk and fumbled for the right words. If God had really talked to him and made the “Get ready” comment, it had to be about RimSoft. And if anyone knew about strange events inside the company, it would be Shannon.
“Anything unusual been going on around here? Rumors I should know about?”
“No, why?”
Micah shrugged. “No reason.”
Shannon turned back to her computer and squinted at the screen. But her right ear slowly rose a quarter inch, telling Micah she wasn’t seeing anything.
“You want to know the reason.”
“Only if you want to tell me, boss.”
“This place down in Cannon Beach is making changes in me. Maybe good ones.” Micah shifted in his seat and smoothed out his pants. “But I can’t lose any control of my world up here. And, uh, I think . . . I mean I had a feeling there might be some different things going on. Just need to make sure we’re smooth up here. Understand?”
Shannon tapped the watch on Micah’s wrist. “A Corum doesn’t run any smoother.”
“Thanks.” Micah stood and winked at her before heading into his office.
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At noon Micah’s laptop chimed twice. Time to check and see if RimSoft was playing nice with all the other kids on the NASDAQ. He pushed the Federal Trade Commission papers needing his signature to the side. Get big and a company gets targeted whether anything illegal was done or not. Maybe RimSoft had skirted the edge of ethical but not so badly they deserved this current hassle.
Micah checked RimSoft’s stock price three times a day—at eight in the morning, noon, and at the market close. He told himself it was just a game, that it didn’t matter if he was up or down, and at first it had been true.
When RimSoft first went public, he checked twice a week—once on Tuesdays and at the close on Friday. But after the stock streaked heavenward faster than a bottle rocket—and his net worth went along for the ride—he started checking daily.
It became an obsession.
Micah punched up the stock on his computer. What?
He felt the blood drain from his face. He shook his head, as if he’d just woken from a dream. Or a nightmare. He slammed a button on his phone.
“Yes?”
“What is going on with the stock, Roger!”
“Hi, Micah. I heard you’re back for a few—”
“What in the name of all that is holy is going on with my stock!” Micah stood and paced behind his desk but didn’t take his eyes off the speakerphone.
“I’m not sure what you mean. We’re up a full point over last week and the volume’s been good. And long-term options on the stock indicate a—”
“Up a point from where? Thursday afternoon we closed at 83¼ and this morning we’re at 62¾? Did someone not tell me about a three-for-one split?”
Roger sighed on the other end of the line.
“Do I get an answer?”
“I don’t know what you’re after here, but—”
“What am I after?” Micah snatched the phone out of its cradle and growled into