by L. J. Hawke
Sanur sipped his drink. He had no idea why a blend of artificial substances could taste so good after a day finding artists and their wares. “They do? Very well. The trail has gone cold?”
“I will find them.” Supayalat narrowed her eyes. “And they will regret it very much when I do. I hope they circle back. I would like to catch them in Thailand.”
Sanur nodded. “I can see why.” The prisons there were no joke. The food arrived, and they spoke of long flights and street fairs.
Then Supayalat said something that made Sanur believe he had been drinking ogogoro without his knowledge. “You are fascinated by this woman, this Tania.” Supayalat rolled the unfamiliar vowels around in her mouth.
“I...respect her. She acquires knowledge at an ever-increasing pace. She runs the business in my absences, which are too frequent as of late. She has my trust.” He narrowed his eyes, frustrated that his vassal had caused him to speak of business during dinner. He became very still. He had danced with Tania, and had been entranced and seduced, in the style of his people. He had fallen into a deep well and was disturbed that he did not want to set himself free.
“Do you wish to bed her?” Supayalat ordered more Cokes.
Sanur nearly sprayed his vassal with his Coke. He swallowed, choked, swallowed again. “Tania...she is worth more than that. In her world, such a response would be a criminal act. I am her employer. In her world, this is not done unless between those of different departments in a large company or between equals.”
Supayalat took the new Cokes from the server and nodded. The young man withdrew. “Then make her your equal.” Sanur sat back and ate the rest of the meal in silence, mind whirring. As always, Supayalat served him in the best ways. She made him think.
A man with a narrow body and eyes that swept everywhere sat at Sanur’s table without permission. Supayalat had a knife against his leg under the table before he could say a word. “Be careful, hyena,” she hissed.
The man held up his wide hands. “You are the ones in our territory without permission.”
Sanur snorted. “Do you know who I am?” The man shook his head. “My name is Sanur. My family has been in existence for a thousand years more than your lines. I am not here to poach in your territory. Do not cross me, ever. We...squeeze our opponents dry. Do you understand?”
The man shook his head then laughed, a high-pitched, crazy sound. “We have numbers.”
“And we, guile.” Sanur narrowed his eyes to slits, let the vertical pupils come up from his false human eyelids. “Fool. I come to help the poorest among you have a better life. Now, go, if you and your kind wish to live.”
Supayalat did something with her other hand, and the man fell off his chair onto the ground. “Go.” She let her eyes change, just for a second. The man rose, brushed himself off, and melted into the crowd. Supayalat sighed. “We must go after dinner. They will be back, in numbers.”
“Pity. I hoped to help more artists here.” Their food came. They ate quickly and melted into the night.
Sanur shouldn't have been surprised about the meeting place. It was an elegant room overlooking the square. There were expensive couches, small golden tables for those who wished to stand, a low table in front of the couch, and a wet bar. Lights glowed in the darkness outside the windows. They could see half the city from where they were. King Karatu was wearing black pants, thousand-dollar shoes, and a golden shirt open at the neck to display a ruby necklace. He wore ruby rings on his fingers. He looked cool, composed, elegant. His mane of black hair streaked with gold moved as he surveyed the room and when he spoke.
A young woman dressed all in black, braids clacking, was there with drinks, a small smile on her face. The young woman smiled and inclined her head when Supayalat, leaning on the wall just inside the door, refused a drink.
Supayalat kept one eye on Sanur, the other one on Queen Khaledi. The queen leaned against the back of the couch, arms crossed. She wore gold and black, just like her husband. Golden bracelets ran up and down both arms, and her earrings were like small chandeliers.
Queen Kinva was shorter than both her husband and Khaledi, smaller, with a longer neck. All her jewelry was silver. She had a face even more elegant and refined than the king’s first wife. Queen Kinva leaned against a bar stool, those fierce whiskey eyes missing nothing.
Sanur wasn't stupid enough to eye the young server. If King Karatu had caught him staring at what was obviously one of his daughters, Sanur may end up losing body parts. The king’s other daughters were impressive. Two of them were in medical school, and the third was a famous chef. This one must be Lhia, the youngest. Lhia smiled, then went behind the bar in a sweep of hair and hips.
Like her husband, Queen Khaledi’s hair was ebony with gold tips, braided like her daughter’s on one side. Like Sanur, the color of her hair didn’t come from a bottle. Queen Khaledi raised a golden fingernail. “Let me check my understanding, Mr. Kaung. Or shall I say Your Highness?”
Sanur waved away the title with the pinkie finger of his right hand. Lhia came back to him, and he received the lime Coke in a rocks glass with grace. The glass was heavy, obviously crystal. He inclined his head and waited until Lhia finished doling out drinks and left with another swish of her hips. Sanur prudently kept his eyes on his glass.
Queen Khaledi inclined her head slightly, making her hair on the right sway as if in a nonexistent breeze. “You want these motorcycle roads of yours built through our territory.”
Sanur inclined his head. “The roads benefit everyone. Motorcycles and electric bicycles go through the middle, and people can walk on the sides. They will be built in the Roman way, with the best drainage.”
Khaledi raised her eyebrows. “That will be expensive.”
Sanur nodded. “Of course. But these roads have to last through heat and torrential rains. The villagers will be better able to move themselves around and bring their products to market.”
Khaledi nodded again. “You'll be cutting through clans and tribes that don't trust one another. You will have workers that don’t speak each other’s languages.”
Sanur raised one shoulder. “I hire intermediaries. Speakers. Surely you have those.”
“We do.” Queen Khaledi looked thoughtful.
Queen Kinva nodded once. “And the medical clinics? The schools?”
Sanur inclined his head. “Every fifty kilometers.” Sanur sipped from his drink as he enjoyed the shock on the younger queen’s face.
Queen Khaledi regally shook her head. “Twenty-five.”
“Schools or clinics?” asked Queen Kinva, the silver, black, and red beads in her waist-length braided hair clacking.
Sanur looked at Supayalat out of the corner of his eyes. She texted and flashed a five and a zero with her fingers. Sanur was stunned and delighted. One of his family’s ancient palaces had been carefully and lovingly brought back to its former glory and would be used as a retreat and training center. The yoga and martial arts masters had ensured that the property would be filled year-round with acolytes and practitioners and carefully maintained. He had been negotiating for a twenty-five year lease but was stunned at the offer of fifty years.
Sanur waved the tips of his fingers. Supayalat’s fingers flew, then she gave a tiny nod. “Both, alternating every twenty-five kilometers to start.” Sanur gave a small smile and sipped his cola. The queens were sipping chai tea, the king Red Bull. Sanur would have preferred the tea, but he needed the sugar and caffeine because he was about to fly out that evening.
“Then twenty-five later?” asked Queen Kinva.
Supayalat flashed the ancient symbol for “d” with her fingers. Sanur realized she was talking about the apartment building in Da Nang. He flicked a fingernail back at her and angled his chin slightly. His vassal lowered her eyes to her screen again, thumbs flying across the keys.
The king began to pace, growling under his breath. “How are we going to staff all of this?”
Queen Khaledi nodded. “We will hav
e to inform the villages that they must send their children out to be doctors and teachers.” She took off one of her bracelets and handed it to her husband. “Use this for the first scholarship.”
The king took the bauble from his wife's hand. “You humble me with your generosity.”
Supayalat flashed an “a” with her fingers at Sanur. Sanur was delighted. In Da Nang, an Argentinian chef with a nearby restaurant and his front of house manager Vietnamese wife literally had more money coming in that they knew what to do with. They had been negotiating the last items in the sale. The apartment house would be filled with people who worked in the surrounding restaurants. It was a fantastic investment. “If we use buildings that are built off-site and moved, put together like jigsaw puzzles, we can have both. My people can teach your construction workers how to assemble them.”
The king nodded. “If they will withstand the rains, then yes. This is a good idea.” He waved his hand, literally pushing that problem aside. “Security is the real problem, building sites and all along the roads.”
Sanur nodded. “Use the hyenas.”
The king guffawed. “I thought you had a problem with them. Your retainer was quite insistent about them not putting their noses into your business.”
Sanur shrugged. “If they can keep the warlords out and prevent children working when they should be in school, then why not use them?”
The king threw back his head and laughed, a rich, throaty sound that came from the belly. “I understand. Just know that the hyenas don't respect anyone.”
Sanur inclined his head. “I understand they will not work for free. Security is built into the budget of every road.” Supayalat flashed her fingers. The apartment building had been sold, so funding was no longer an issue.
Queen Khaledi hissed. “There will be no child labor. We have worked night and day to stamp out this scourge. I will personally see to it that the children are in school and not working on the road.”
Queen Kinva nodded. “I will be where you are not.”
Queen Khaledi touched Queen Kinva’s hand. “I will use you as you have offered. This project will take many years.”
Sanur shrugged. “Nothing worthwhile is fast or easy. Or inexpensive.”
The king roared with laughter. “I like you, snake. I did not believe that would be true. Come, let us work out a contract with what we have decided here.” Sanur inclined his head, and Supayalat sent the queens and king the contract.
When Sanur got back, he took Tania out to lunch. Sanur ordered pad thai, then complained. “I have had to pay for a fleet of motorcycle messengers driven by locals. They can carry the smaller materials and finished products in less time over bumpy roads than trucks.”
“Aaliyah was very happy to meet you! She sent me an email. You put in a huge order! Aat and Chai got busy taking even more pictures.” She grinned. The boys were getting very good at photography, and so were the girls.
“I met forty-two artist collectives. Each collective now has bicycles and motorcycles. I own a company that gets materials and hires local people to build wind, water, and solar systems to where people in rural areas need power to make their products. The collectives all have power now.”
“Impressive,” Tania said, a bit stunned. She knew Sanur had other businesses but hadn’t attempted to find out what they were.
“The collectives help all of them to afford to send their children to school and for new supplies for more products.” Sanur grinned. He looked deeply tanned, happy, and very satisfied, but extremely exhausted.
“We really are keeping people alive, aren’t we?”
Sanur grinned. “Now you see why this company exists.”
“I do,” said Tania. She felt the tears pricking her eyelids.
Sanur smiled at her. “Do not cry. Beautiful women should not have tears, except for joy.”
Tania blushed and grinned. “This is definitely joy.” She stared at him as the words sunk in. “Wait. You think I am beautiful?”
Sanur smiled gently. “If you do not, then you are a fool. And, you have proven to me many times that you are not a fool.”
Wait, my super-rich globetrotting boss thinks I’m beautiful! Tania squeed inside but tried to imitate Sanur’s regal nature. “Thank you.” She smiled at him over the rim of her glass.
Sanur’s heart stuttered in his chest. He decided to be sure she always saw herself as beautiful. He had no idea how to accomplish that, but he decided to try.
Sanur thought of himself as a solitary man, equally comfortable on planes and on the ground, in one country or another. He didn't stay in five-star hotels, because why spend money there that could be better spent on his artists and orphans? He had a cell phone, so he could do business anywhere.
That's why his businesses prospered where others failed. Others wanted to spend money on fancy cars, private planes, expensive hotels, bespoke suits, and thousand-dollar haircuts. His money stayed in the bank where it grew, giving him the ability to expand, and to create multiple businesses that ran at the same time. Sanur wasn't pushing towards billionaire status, but with the family money, the trust and properties, he was actually pretty close.
He loved open-air markets and street foods, souks with heady spices, alleys where he found unexpected treasures. Those people got his money, not yacht makers and jewelers. The family had its own jewels, ancient and priceless. They had artworks from the dawn of time. What more baubles did he need?
Besides, this woman was more beautiful than them all. Now, if she would only believe the same about herself!
Takeover
They signed the handoff paperwork the next week. Tania now owned fifty-one percent of the company. Sanur had her sit at his desk, and she stared at the pen she used to sign the contract for what seemed like hours before putting it away in the desk.
Sanur had already packed his things, and they had an early-morning conference with the initial employees, the orphans and Lupe, before school and work began. Sanur explained that he had sold fifty-one percent of the company to Tania, and that she would be running the company from now on. He would still be making the buying runs, sometimes with Lupe, sometimes with Tania.
Tania had the original staff come in early and explained that it was becoming increasingly hard with the sheer busyness of the office for Sanur to run his other businesses. Tania told them about the office around the corner, and that everything was going to continue exactly the way that it had been. She confessed that she was worried about growing too fast and leaving customers behind.
Lupe stared at both of them, her mouth hanging open. “How the hell did she come up with the money?”
Sanur leaned back against a desk. “Important question, and none of your business, but if you must know, I've sold her over half my shares because I simply do not have the time to devote to this company. I started it because I cared about the artists, their families, the entire communities that get better one person at a time. We're not miracle workers who can cure all of the sick people or make all of the people without legs walk again. But, if people go to bed with full bellies, a roof over their heads, have access to medical care, and are able to send their kids to school, this sickening cycle of poverty doesn't entrap people like quicksand.”
“It is impossible that she had the money!” Lupe spat.
Sanur kept his voice calm. “Tania could have purchased the business a month ago. The paperwork was ready. But she owed money and she made sure the entire amount was paid off. And, she has been doing approximately eight jobs around here since I hired her, and being paid for one. We tried paying by the job, but since she was doing them on a daily basis, she still wasn't being compensated correctly. Tania doesn't have the time to do all those jobs anymore, and those of you that want one of her jobs, and the salary she was making for one, can do so.”
“In other words, Sanur owed me money.” Tania grinned, determined not to get angry with Lupe’s tone. “Lupe, you will get a bonus of three thousand euros immediately fo
r working at least two jobs. My suggestion is that you and I work with our young friends here, give them increases in pay in exchange for what they do, or for what we want them to do. Absolutely no one here is just a receptionist, photographer, stager, or customer service representative. You all do multiple jobs. And now Sanur won't be doing jobs around here, and we don't have to pay him.”
Tania waited while everyone laughed. “We can use that money to figure out what jobs to pay for and how we want to do that. Do you want to be paid by line item? I was, but it was nowhere close to the actual work I was doing. So, I'm thinking it's a bit more fair to be paid more of a salary, not having to keep track of how many of this or that you do and what rate of pay it is for each one. But, that's up to you if you want to do that much work.”
Everyone groaned at doing more work. “Or, you can be paid in percentages of the gross, which may end up being more money. Just understand we're going to have good months and bad months. The bad month thing hasn't happened yet, but it will. Our trajectory has been ever upward. But there is going to be a correction. This can't last forever.”
“What about ownership of the business?” asked Lupe.
Sanur shook his head. “You must be out of debt to buy your half, Lupe. Tania has set a good precedence. The rest of you can obtain percentages of the company from these two, if you really feel this is something you want to do. You're young, and you may want to make changes in your lives later on. If you leave, you must sell back your ownership percentages. I won't have people who aren't here on a daily basis making decisions about the company, and neither will Tania. It's too easy to get far away and distracted and not pay attention to what's going on. That's what has been happening to me. I believe in all of you, and in what you can do. This is why I must step aside. But, never worry. I'll be very close by, literally around the corner, because I don't believe in abandoning what I've started.”