Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 124077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
“Yes,” I’m aware of that.” He shifted from foot to foot, looking uncomfortable.
Terra frowned up at him.
“Where are your receivables?”
The big Monstrum looked confused.
“My what?”
“Accounts receivable,” Terra said patiently. “The money customers owe you.”
He lifted his hands, palm up.
“I have records in the system,” he offered.
Terra nodded.
“Good. Show me.”
Taurex moved to the expensive looking laptop in the corner and touched the screen. Several windows appeared.
Terra leaned closer. At least the software looked familiar enough. In fact, it seemed to be the same accounting software she’d been working with in her classes.
She began scrolling…then she stopped.
“Holy shit.”
Taurex looked concerned.
“What? What is it?”
Terra pointed at the screen.
“You have almost eighty-seven thousand dollars in outstanding invoices.”
He frowned.
“Is that unusual?”
“Yes!” Terra exclaimed. She stared at the screen, scrolling down and down. Some of the invoices were more than ninety days old.
“Why hasn't anyone paid these?” she demanded at last, pointing.
Taurex frowned.
“They have all agreed to pay.”
“I can see that,” Terra said.
He frowned.
“Then I do not understand the problem.”
Terra turned to look up at him.
“You never followed up.”
He shook his head, looking confused.
“Followed up?”
“Yes. You know–sent reminders.”
“Why would I remind them?” Taurex asked. “They know they owe me money.”
Terra stared at him for several seconds and Taurex stared back.
Then she started laughing–she couldn't help it. The expression on his face was so genuinely bewildered that the laughter simply came out.
Taurex's ears twitched.
“I fail to understand what is amusing.”
“I'm sorry.” Terra pressed a hand over her mouth. “No, I'm really sorry. It's just…”
She took a breath. “You've been doing business with humans for how long?”
“Three Earth years,” he said stiffly.
“And nobody has explained to you that human companies will sometimes wait as long as possible to pay an invoice unless you remind them?” Terra asked.
His golden eyes narrowed.
“They deliberately withhold money they owe?”
Terra nodded.
“Sometimes. If they think they can get away with it.”
His frown deepened.
“But that is dishonorable!”
Terra shrugged.
“Welcome to Earth.”
Taurex gave a disgusted snort that sounded distinctly bovine.
Terra smiled.
“Okay. First thing we're doing is creating an accounts receivable schedule. Thirty days, reminder. Forty-five days, second reminder. Sixty days, phone call.”
“What happens at ninety days?” Taurex wanted to know.
“At ninety days, we get mean,” Terra told him. She gave him an appraising look. “That shouldn’t be too hard for you. All you need to do is go to their office and look scary.”
Taurex's mouth twitched.
“I believe I can manage that. Humans do tend to find me intimidating for some reason.”
“Maybe because you’re eight feet tall and look like a Greek myth come to life,” Terra murmured.
“A what?” he asked, frowning.
“Never mind. Let’s just see what we can do…”
Terra turned back to the screen and started clicking through the accounts. Within twenty minutes she had found three more problems.
One customer had been charged twice for the same shipment. Another had paid an invoice, but the payment had never been properly credited. A third had received nearly twenty thousand dollars worth of off-world gemstones without a final invoice ever being generated.
Terra stared at the last entry.
“Taurex.”
“Yes?” he rumbled.
“You shipped these people nineteen thousand eight hundred dollars' worth of merchandise.”
“Yes?” he said again.
“Well, you never billed them,” Terra pointed out.
The big Monstrum frowned.
“They know what they owe.”
She slowly turned her head.
“We literally just had this conversation.”
“Yes, but this company has done business with me before,” he protested.
“And?” Terra asked.
“And they have always paid.”
“Because somebody billed them!” she exclaimed. “But this time you didn’t bill them!”
Taurex considered this.
“Oh. It must have slipped my mind,” he said at last.
Terra rubbed both hands over her face and looked back at the screen.
Dear God. He wasn't bad at business–not exactly–that was becoming increasingly clear.
He was actually very good at the parts of business he understood. Looking through the contracts and shipping records, Terra could see that Intergalactic Imports was bringing in enormous amounts of revenue. Taurex had trade relationships with suppliers on at least a dozen alien worlds and customers all across the United States and the rest of the Earth.
The goods themselves fascinated her as well as their descriptions. There were crates of deep blue spice from a planet called Vessara, used by expensive restaurants because apparently a pinch could change flavor depending on temperature. There were rolls of fabric imported from somewhere called Trellex which adjusted to the wearer's body heat. There were gemstones that glowed faintly in darkness, medicinal plant extracts, rare hardwoods and several kinds of food Terra had never heard of.
“What is this?” she asked, clicking on a product description.
Taurex came closer and looked over her shoulder.
“Velorian dreamfruit. What about it?”
“What does it do?” Terra asked.
He shrugged.
“It produces mild euphoria when eaten.”
Terra gave him a startled look.
“Wait–you're importing drugs?”
His eyes widened.
“No, of course not. It’s a fruit.”
“A fruit that gets you high?” Terra probed.
He shook his head.
“Only pleasantly relaxed.”
She frowned.
“That doesn’t sound very good.”
“It is legal.” Taurex sounded defensive.