The International Businessman

by Daniel Lawlis

  Chapter 12

  Over the next few days, Tats spent a lot of time in a large library inside Becca’s home. He felt a strange sense of power having such knowledge within the reach of his fingertips, and he devoured large portions of many books, as he knew his stay would be too short to permit him to read many books in full.

  Becca showed him all around the city so that he would be better acquainted with it for future visits. There were lavish dinners every evening, along with hired musicians and plenty of dancing. Tats awed at the power of his sister. She was driven around in a fine coach, had great wealth, and was treated with considerable respect by everyone, above all her large number of employees, which seemed to be divided perfectly in half between work of a security and a domestic nature.

  Tats went and visited Rose every day at the bordello, and she seemed pleased by his company, but Tats decided not to mention the topic of marriage again. He had felt somewhat foolish at the time he had done so, and significantly more so once he had the benefit of reflection, but every time he felt the power of her dark brown eyes, gazed on the dazzling beauty of her dark black hair, and experienced the passion of her body he never failed to remember why he had been so swept off his feet as to propose to her on their first encounter. He knew he was going to miss her when he left Sodorf City.

  On the fourth night of Tats’ stay at Becca’s mansion, she approached him with a visage that foretold some urgent news or request. “Brother, how quickly can you acquire more?”

  “I think Mr. Brass is ready to consider you his priority client immediately, why?”

  “It’s provoked far more interest than I ever could have imagined. I started out just giving away some free samples to some of my high-end clients, the word spread, and I made $30,000 velurs. It’s not that that is such a large amount of money to me. It’s the potential I’m interested in. I already have people practically demanding more.”

  “That’s great, although I must say I’m intrigued as to why the demand is so high. Is this substance difficult to acquire in Sodorf City?”

  “To acquire no. But to acquire at this quality, yes! Many clients have told me this is at least several times more potent than the Smokeless Green they’re used to. It’s practically a different product. I’ve heard a few call it Fiery Green, although we’ll see if that name sticks. All I know, brother, is that I need some of this fast, or I’m gonna have some unhappy clients.”

  Tats wasn’t sure how well Mr. Brass would like the sudden change in plans. He knew Mr. Brass was eager to get this exportation started but was also having some temporary supply difficulties. He didn’t want to commit Mr. Brass to an appointment earlier than the October 17 date he had requested without first running it by him, but he also knew that it wasn’t exactly going to be practical to be going back and forth to negotiate meeting times.

  Brass had sent him down here to get a job done, and that made Tats his agent. Brass was going to have to give him some leeway to adjust based upon changed circumstances. Nonetheless, he felt he should at least try for the October 17 deadline.

  “Sis, would October 17 be possible to swing? Mr. Brass wants to get this relationship started as soon as possible, but he’s having some supply issues, which he assures me are temporary.”

  Tats watched his sister’s face sour, and so he then added, “It could be that a small delay might serve to further stimulate your clients’ appetites. Mr. Brass is a man of his word, and I know he wouldn’t have sent me all the way down here and arranged a commission basis for all future transactions if he didn’t think this was really important. If he says October 17, it’s because he will be ready no later than that date. You could go ahead and let the word spread and tell your customers you will be able to provide steadily after that date.”

  Becca’s face softened some, but he realized for the first time what it was that caused so many people to tremble in her presence. He perceived that at this moment he was dealing with Ms. Rucifus, the businesswoman, not Becca, his sister. Her fearsome countenance chilled the back of his neck.

  “October 12, no later.”

  Tats’ gut told him she had seen the logic in his statement about building up consumer interest by a brief delay in supplying this higher-quality product and that her impatient response had little to do with sheer business necessity and everything to do with making sure Mr. Brass knew from the get-go she was a woman who dickered hard, even with equals, and that she didn’t take marching orders from anybody. .

  “I’ll do what I can.”

  “It’s a one-time, take-it-or-leave-it offer. October 12. 8 p.m. My house.”

  Tats paused for a moment before speaking. He noticed Becca’s face had a combination of aggression and ostensible apathy towards how Mr. Brass would receive the ultimatum, suggesting she was willing to walk away from the whole thing for good if he objected to an iota of her counteroffer. Her stubbornness vexed him.

  “I’ll tell him, Rebecca,” he said coldly. “I’ll leave early first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “Goood, brother,” she said, smiling. Becca was back.

  “Oh, there’s one more thing,” Tats said, and then he told her about Brass’s attire for that day and his insistence regarding the use of memorized scripts so that they would both know they were dealing with the right person.

  “That, I can manage,” Becca said. “I’ll send Sarah up to give you a massage to relax you and make sure you sleep like the dead tonight. Should I have a servant wake you up at any particular time tomorrow?”

  “Yes, 6 a.m.” Tats responded, a bit coldly, but the prospect of a massage thawed some of the ice in his spirits.

  “Don’t be bitter, brother,” Becca said, having obviously sensed Tats’ displeasure. “You’re still a boy. I’m going to teach you how to negotiate in the business world.” Condescension of the statement notwithstanding, Becca delivered it with a maternal sweetness that made it sound positive.

  Tats wasn’t sure what cue had been given to summon the masseuse, but when he saw her his naïve infatuation with Rose slipped away from his mind. At least temporarily.

  Tats did sleep like the dead that night, and at 6 a.m. sharp he was able to respond vigorously to his wake-up call. He was fortified with a breakfast of toast, eggs, and sausage, and supplied with a generous amount of fruit and jerky.

  Valiant had been well cared for during Tats’ stay and was full of energy when the two of them set off briskly towards Sivingdel at 7 a.m. on October 8.

  He knew this would be cutting it close. He had discovered from his trip down here that it took a little over thirty hours of riding time. He didn’t plan on using any Smokeless Green on the way back, so he figured he would aim for about fourteen hours of riding time per day.

  That meant he would probably get to Sivingdel late morning or early afternoon on October 10, and since he didn’t know how to find Mr. Brass other than waiting for their daily 9 p.m. meeting, Mr. Brass would probably have less than forty-eight hours to comply with Becca’s meeting.

  But while Tats didn’t know the full details of the what and how, he knew Mr. Brass had access to some form of aerial transportation, as that was clearly the only feasible explanation for how he had extricated himself from the alleyway the night the two of them were nearly killed after having been set up by Stitches.

  Thus, he didn’t feel Mr. Brass was going to have any trouble making that deadline if he was inclined to do so.