Dealing with Bankers

[Jay Carpenter]

Andreu Kojima

"Of course my oaths would be better," he spoke matter-of-factly, with that charming sort of confidence, leaning back comfortably and twining fingers together in his lap.  Open-expectation persisted, hovering on Andreu's expression while the gears turned in Nythadri's pretty little mind.  Not that Andreu was the kind of man to notice things like that.  Nythadri was far too young, and there was that nagging little problem of being insanely in love with his wife.  Which made it really hard to hire that guy to follow her.  But someone had to make the tough calls.

He was having trouble reading her though.  Rather odd, that.  Then, almost on cue, his eyes fell to the ring on her hand, darted to her sleeve, and lashed the world apart.  The rejection wasn't so terrible a thing.  It certainly happened in this business, but nobody dismissed this amount of coin.  Nythadri was no normal client.  She was of the White Tower.  She was civilized, educated; a Lady.    

He took a breath and restrained from jumping from the chair.  This was a nice coat after all.  

Andreu flipped the cover on the ledger and shoved it aside, contemplating a hundred explanations regarding how to reel in this fish.  He asked for the transfer papers.  Though really they were irrelevant, other than to note the various signatures on the parchment.  The quality of the ink used.  The slant to the writing.  Glance for water marks or other scratches of authenticity.  

Andreu stared for some moments, then carelessly tossed the papers aside, face drawn in thought.  "What happened?"  He asked, the taste of betrayal on his tongue.  "Two weeks?"  He smirked. "I've had longer relationships with dog-walkers."  The smirk transformed into something baser.  "And I don't have dogs."