“I would never even have thought of that,” I admitted. “Damn, Lee! You really are a genius.”

“Yeah, I know.” He smiled, getting up from his chair. “Go ahead, log in to the admin panel and take it for a test-drive.”

I spent half an hour playing with the database. It felt more like ten minutes. It was just so easy—easy to navigate, easy to enter data, easy to search. And frankly, the graphic element made it fun.

“You’ve got it, Daisy,” Lee said, returning from his kitchen to peer over my shoulder. “I did my best to make it idiot-proof.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No offense.” He proffered a bottle of what looked like iced tea, keeping another for himself. “Kombucha?”

“Sure.” I accepted it, twisted off the cap, and took a sip. I wasn’t about to tell him I had no idea what kombucha was. It must have been something else Lee got into in Seattle, since it hadn’t made inroads into southwestern Michigan yet. In case you’re wondering, it’s basically tea, only it’s fermented with a mass of yeast and bacteria. I looked it up later. For the record, it tastes like a lot like iced tea, only sort of fizzy and tart, and I’m glad I didn’t know more at the time. “So, hey! How come other developers don’t make software that looks this cool?”

Lee shrugged. “It’s not cost-effective in terms of R and D, not to mention the amount of memory and bandwidth it takes to run. But since that wasn’t really an issue, I approached this like I was designing a game. Database programmers usually don’t think like artists or storytellers. That’s the beauty of video games. They combine the best of all those elements.”

“Did you design the graphics yourself?” I asked him.

“No.” He took a swig of kombucha. “I used an illustrator I’ve worked with before. I didn’t tell him anything about the project,” he added. “I just sent him the specs. But if you need additional graphics, just let me know.”

“I will.” It occurred to me that between the designing and the outsourcing and the hosting, Lee really had invested a lot in this project. “You really went above and beyond, Lee. I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, well, I promised,” he said. “And you delivered.”

“Just don’t ask again,” I said. “That’s not a favor I can grant twice. Hel’s tolerance only goes so far.”

Lee nodded. “Oh, believe me, I won’t. But . . .” Looking down, he fiddled with his bottle of kombucha. “There might be other ways I could help you, Daisy.”

“Oh, yeah?” I was skeptical but curious. “Like what? No offense.”

Lifting his head, he gave me a wry smile. “Fair enough. Can I show you something?”

“Sure.”