Dragons Luck

Thirty-five

“How could you be so stupid?”

Flynn dug his fingers into his thigh, pain helping control his temper. It was that or crush the flimsy cell phone in his hand, and he didn’t have the time or energy to replace it. Years of practice meant he did not start to grow scales or claws or anything similar, yet the impulse was close.

“I’m sorry, sir,” a thin, contrite voice said on the other end.

“Do you have any idea what that will cost me in the long run? That no-talent hack could have been president one day! And you let him sign on with another firm,” Flynn said.

“But, sir, you said he wasn’t important. That your project there was far more valuable, and I should just handle it as best I could.”

“I had assumed your best wasn’t quite so inadequate. Why did I ever let your mother talk me into hiring you?” Flynn said.

“Because it was the only way you could get her to sign a nudity clause in her contract, sir, and you owed the studio head.”

“Yes, well, her career has been over for a year. So your career is over now. I’m calling security next to make sure you clean out your desk without any fuss.”

Flynn disconnected, cutting off any further protests from the lackey on the other end. If he admitted the truth to himself, he should never have let the kid handle such a job. He just hadn’t thought the actor in question bright enough to jump on his current absence. Still, he had to set an example. Besides, he was still disappointed over the low box-office returns off his mother.

“Hey, Flynn, mind if I join you?”

He looked up, surprised to see Griffen McCandles leaning over the railing that surrounded the tables at the Café Du Monde. He smiled, openly to Griffen, inwardly to himself. The folly back at the office aside, the deal he was working on certainly did have the potential to be great. More important, since Mai’s little encounter, it was proving to be more and more intriguing.

It was a good thing, to be able to enjoy one’s work.

“Sure, Griffen, come on over and order something. Excuse me, though, while I finish up a little business.”

Griffen nodded and moved around the railing and into the Cafe proper. Flynn dialed his office number, and the extension to on-site security. If the son was anything like his mother, he would throw a temper tantrum before leaving.

“This is Flynn,” he said, as the line was picked up. “I’ve fired Bradley… Yes, that’s the one. Let him make some fuss, draw some attention, then put him out on his ass… Yes, that’s right, he’s the example of the year… Good. I’ll call back for a report later.”

He hung up and noticed Griffen looking at him a little oddly. He didn’t think the young dragon could pick up on his tension, his anger over the whole issue. Minor though it was. After a few quick thoughts, he decided to probe the issue.

“Never fired anyone?” Flynn asked.

“Not directly, no; when I first got started, I set some policy. Made people make a choice, but there weren’t any big issues with the organization itself. Just some of those connected on the periphery,” Griffen said.

“Well, sometimes it’s necessary. Particularly if someone messes up badly.”

“What, no second chances?”

Flynn picked up his coffee and sipped, letting the bitterness roll over his tongue. He was more in the mood for that than the too-sweet beignets so popular here.

“Sometimes, depends on whether you judge a second chance will do any good. Sometimes you’ve got to know when to cut your losses. More important, you have to remember, as head of an organization, that punishing one person harshly helps keep many more from repeating their mistakes. Or committing worse ones.”

Griffen’s own drink and a plate of beignets came, and he reached for the confection first. Flynn watched him carefully as he bit into the corner, and a small cloud of powdered sugar rose. He seemed thoughtful, even moody. Or was Flynn projecting his own feelings on him?

“Tell me more about this policy you set and why you set it. Was it for your good or your people’s?” Flynn asked.

“I’d like to think both. I think you’ve heard something about the aftermath, but I decided my people either dealt drugs or worked for me. Not both. I didn’t want such a dangerous and messy business ruining the lives of those around me.”

“Sounds like a good decision though made more from a moral ground than thinking of the business itself.”

“Pretty much. Same reason I’m sorry to say I can’t take your advice on using the local druggies as security. It’s just too much like going back on my own word.”

Flynn nearly bit his tongue and had to keep from spitting out his coffee.

“What? After trying to help, you throw it back at me?”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that. It’s just—”

“It’s that bitch Mai, isn’t it?”

Flynn regretted the outburst as soon as he said it. Yes, he had been heavy-handed with some of his advice to Griffen, but never casually. This was the first move he had made that had not been at all premeditated. He saw Griffen lean back, his eyes narrowing.

“No… in fact Mai has never mentioned you at all. Where do you know her from?”

Of course, Mai wouldn’t mention him directly. She would use a cat’s-paw, if she were involved with this aspect of the game at all. Flynn cursed silently but didn’t let a moment’s hesitation show as he gave Griffen lies in the form of half-truths.

“I know her family, and her since she was little. She has never liked me, or liked my ways, I might say.”

“What ways would those be?”

“Mai has never been good at full honesty, at openness. Her nature is much more subtle.”

True, Flynn thought, every word of it. Not telling him anything, or even coming close to answering his question, but it should be enough.

“Well, I can’t debate that. I don’t really know how much she hides.”

“Well, if I may… just how old do you think she is?” Flynn said.

“Good point. I knew her in school, but that’s also where I met Jerome. And I know he is a lot older than he pretended.”

“Griffen, maybe I’m speaking out of turn, but it’s my feeling you should know what you can about your allies. As far as I know, Mai is older than Jerome.”

“Still, Flynn, I just don’t think dealing with the local gangs is the way to go. They just don’t seem prepared to do anything but shoot at people.”

Flynn shrugged and kept the relief off his face. Two steps back, one forward. He rolled with Griffen’s change of subject.

“What about my other idea, some form of tracking?”

“It sounds good… but how would I pull it off? Somehow I don’t think I can convince them to walk around with transmitters in their pockets.”

Flynn cocked his head and reached out. His fingers brushed a set of small black and red beads woven around Griffen’s neck.

“The person who made these should be able to make similar. For one good at such crafting, it should be child’s play.”

“Really?”

Griffen took the beads off and ran them through his fingers. Flynn nodded and kept his smile easy and warm.

“Look, Griffen, forgive me for snapping. Tough day at the office, even though I’m not there. Actually, I kind of miss being there.”

“I do appreciate the time and advice, Flynn, it’s just I have to follow my own gut, too.”

“Sure you do, that’s what makes you a dragon. No harm, no foul.”

Griffen nodded and put the necklace back on. He reached for his wallet, but Flynn waved him off. Soon he was watching the young man walk off across the square.

He picked up his cell phone. Still seething, and needing someone to vent his anger on.

“Security? Flynn. I’ve changed my mind. If he throws a tantrum, shoot him!”