by L. J. Hawke
“We're not even eighteen yet, and you're willing to let us have some percentage of this company?” asked Kannika.
Tania waggled her hand. “Well, you'll have to take percentages of the gross until then. So I suggest you start saving your money from your percentages and your pay increases. You also need to be absolutely certain that this is what you want to do. I'm very sorry to ask this of you, because this means you're making a life decision very early.”
Tania leveled a stare at each of them in turn. “Also, you may wish to go to college. Owning part of the company means you get that percentage of the profits, which may actually pay for your university education. But you may also determine after getting your education, whether by university or certificates or whatever it is you choose to do, that you want to get out of this business. In which case, you would have to sell back your percentage of the business.” Everyone nodded. “We aren't going to be selling common stock. That means that you can't be some person walking down the street and be a part of this company. This is a family. In case you haven't figured it out, family isn't always blood. It's the people that you trust and love. We are a family; we will continue as a family.”
Tania took a breath, kept talking around the lump in her throat. “Sanur will be working on other projects that are just as valuable and important as what we do. One of his businesses is housing people in the worst slums in the world. I think that's important, don't you?”
Aat laughed out loud. “So, you’re our mother, Sanur is our father, you two are getting a bit of a divorce, and he's moving around the corner, and Lupe is Auntie?”
Tania threw up her hands. “Why the hell not?” she said, making everyone laugh again. “Actually, I've been looking into it. The thing is, all of you have had to act like adults and make your own decisions here. You've had to grow up far faster than most people do.” She got choked up, stared off to the side.
Sanur smiled as those who had figured out what she was talking about stared at her in shock. He'd only been able to take her out on two dates, because he was setting up shipping on multiple continents, looking in on his various projects. Dinner had included talking shop against his own rules and dancing. And kisses. Ones that Tania said “curled her toes.” He'd started a new project in Cambodia, and that one needed very careful watching. But he was willing to be distracted by the woman he took out to dinner, the woman who went dancing, her hips swaying to his, those intoxicating kisses that tasted like Coke and dark berries. Tania entranced him with her body, her whirling mind, and her willingness to look after her people. Our people, he thought. It was good to have people again, not just employees.
Sanur nodded. “Please be patient, because this will take quite a bit of time. Also, it must not influence your decision to stay here, to go to college, or to decide this is not what you want to do. This is very hard work. It takes an exceptional eye. Customer service becomes very complex because art is in the eye of the beholder. We have clients all over the world. You may end up scattered to the winds if you decide to open offices in other parts of the world.”
Aat, moving like a graceful cat, walked up to Sanur and bowed his head. “Por,” he said, the Thai word for father. Sanur clasped his hands, and Aat bowed over them. Aat then went to Tania, and said, “Mee,” the Thai word for mother. Tania held out her hands, and he clasped them and bowed over them. Aat then did the same thing with Lupe, and called her “Aa,” thereby naming Lupe Tania's younger sister, and therefore, his aunt.
Tania let the tears run down her face as each of the orphans called her this. She hugged all of them, wiped the tears away, and said, “This calls for a very short celebration. Let's have our mangoes and juice, and then those calls are going to start coming in. I'm not usually up this early, so I'm probably going to mess something up.” She laughed through her tears, and they surrounded her, gave her a group hug.
“What just happened?” asked Lupe in a hushed voice.
“We just did something verbally we haven't yet done legally,” Sanur whispered into her ear. “I am going to adopt these children legally.” He sighed. “That means we're going to have to work extra hard, because I insist on my children attending at least some university courses. If they're going to take over this business, or any of my other ones, they have to be fully educated.”
Lupe stared at him, wide-eyed. “And what did they call me? I know some Thai, but I think they called me a word for ‘aunt’.”
“Actually, it's a little more complicated than that. You are now officially Tania's younger sister, and an aunt to these young people. Just so you know, this is going to take a while. It will be much easier if...things go as I hope.”
Lupe’s face grew stony. “I knew you were dating her, but marriage? Does she know that you want to marry her? I also get why you would want to leave the company if you're dating someone who used to be your employee. I didn't think you were one of those nasty men who would treat a woman with such disrespect.”
They both accepted plates of mango and orange juice spiked with fizzy water, a poor person's mimosa. “I will never disrespect her. And do you really think she would allow such behavior? To put it bluntly, she would remove my balls if I ever hurt her.” Lupe laughed, and like a rubber band snapping back in place, their world returned to normal.
Well, almost normal. Those that had school in the morning took a quick detour to see Sanur’s new office. It had the same courtyard with the same pond with nearly identical koi swimming in the pond, a matching bridge over the water, and a cloned reception desk. Inside, there were two separate offices, and only two desks downstairs. There was a small cafe on the bottom right, a convenience store to the left, a dry cleaners in the back left corner, a small Thai kickboxing gym in the back right corner. The only thing missing was a restaurant, and there were five of them surrounding the building, and enough street food to feed everyone three times over.
Everyone took turns seeing the office, helping Sanur move, and then Lawan, an orphan and intern with wide eyes, graceful movements, and a gentle smile, took over as Sanur’s receptionist. Sanur already had scripts ready to go and began training her immediately.
Tania entered Sanur’s office, a smile on her face. “Hi.”
“Hello.” Sanur smiled a slow smile, as he shut his laptop and locked it away. “Lawan has already forwarded the phones. There is a cart we haven’t tried.”
Tania laughed. “Really? I thought we got them all!”
“Other direction. Her pad thai is incredible.”
“Then, let’s go.” They walked, arm in arm. Tania could smell the lime and peanuts from down the street. “This is heavenly.”
Sanur laughed. “You haven’t tasted anything yet!”
Tania smiled. “I will, trust me.”
While they ate, for once Tania followed Sanur’s no-work rule. They talked about nothing—last night’s rain, a new band that opened for Tania’s band, a new outfit Tania bought to strut in onstage. “I’d like to see you in it.” He kissed her fingers.
“Tomorrow night,” she promised. “Want to see a movie?”
“That would be...excellent.” Her movie choices perplexed Sanur. Pretty in Pink would follow Avengers, then Four Weddings and a Funeral, then Terminator or Avatar. He never complained; he had a beautiful woman in his arms. She would explain the unexplainable to him, he would fail to understand all the nuances, and she would eat popcorn and drink colas and yell at the screen. He found it all...entrancing. Strange, but entrancing.
Tania smiled at him, and his heart stopped when a delivery driver nearly struck her. He had her up and off her chair, protected her with his body. Tania leaned into Sanur, flipped the driver off, said a few choice words. Then, she sat as if she were a queen and ate the rest of her pad thai, wielding chopsticks as if she’d grown up using them.
They stood and paid. She kissed him on the cheek—he still hated public displays of affection during work hours. “Gotta run, new girl to train. See you after work.” Sanur knew she was
checking out his ass when he left her. It made him feel things he hadn’t thought he could feel again. It was exhilarating.
They all met up for lunch. Over a pad thai and various soups, Sanur said to Lawan, “Coordination of the buildings is done onsite with the building manager, and they hire subcontractors. There's also a fixer onsite. It's a fixer’s job to prevent corruption. People come around demanding bribes, protection payments, all sorts of things, and if not paid, it will cause trouble and even damage at the site, maybe even block what we are trying to do.”
“That’s horrific,” said Lupe.
Sanur nodded. “I travel so much partly because I must check in with the fixers, make sure everything is going according to plan.”
Tania nodded. “Sanur told me about this. Sometimes they want bribes, sometimes they want a room in the new place. Every room for a corrupt official or gang member means one less room for the poor people who actually need it.”
Sanur took a sip of mint tea then continued. “There are also constant scammers with substandard building materials, everything from concrete to lumber. They tell themselves false things, such as, ‘Why should I spend good money on good products, for people who were just going to tag the walls and live in filth?’ They don't care that this building could kill children if it collapses,” Sanur said, his voice cold.
Tania’s face grew grim. “I happen to know contractors back home from working summers on job sites for money. In the winter, they don't have a hell of a lot to do. I told some of them about what was happening and said that they can make good money overseeing the sites. Some of them are ex-military and work rebuilding houses after hurricanes and tornadoes and that sort of thing.”
“So that's why I will talk to someone named Billie Jo today,” said Lawan. “She asked to speak to me since I work for Sanur.”
“That reminds me,” said Sanur. “Billie Jo said to tell you, Tania, that everything was on time and under budget in Indonesia.”
“That would be Frank and Bobby,” said Tania. “Those boys grew up together, and they doubled in size somewhere between middle and high school. Met them when I volunteered with Habitat for Humanity. They work construction but in the winter they couldn't pay the bills. They tried working on cars, shoveling snow, but that just doesn't fill up the belly, and their momma got sick. They joined the military right after high school and learned construction from the Army.”
“They are excellent workers,” said Sanur.
“They got all sorts of guys working for them, in the same can’t-find-a-job boat come winter. They can go to places like Florida, Phoenix, Las Vegas, someplace hot in the winter, or at least not bitterly cold. Sometimes they find work, sometimes they don’t. So they were eager to work for Sanur.”
Sanur grinned. “Bobby sent me an e-mail, says he's got little boys and girls onsite from the slums. He uses Foundation money to send the kids to school.”
“What foundation?” asked Lupe.
“That's another one of my projects,” said Sanur. “I have to displace people to build onsite, unless it's an already crumbled building. Those people get other places to live that are temporary who don't have anyone else to move in with. Their kids go to school, and the able-bodied adults work onsite if they don't already have jobs.”
“That’s amazing,” said Lupe.
“The local schools get scholarships to send every child in an area that wants to go to school. They have to hire local kids to walk the little ones to school or buy vans or buses to pick them up. The kids get free uniforms and backpacks full of school supplies. The parents that don't have jobs work onsite, or as the van and bus drivers, or walk the kids to school, become crossing guards at major streets. Many of these places don't have crossing guards, have never heard of them. People are really proud to get that job, to be protecting children every day. The locals seem to like it too, despite having to stop for the signs.”
“You never stop thinking of ways to help people who need it,” said Lupe.
Tania narrowed her eyes at him. “You have a medical foundation too, don't you?”
Sanur nodded. “The problem is a sheer lack of doctors and nurses in many areas. In some places, there's only one doctor or nurse for thousands, even hundreds of thousands of people. You can't just send anyone in the world to medical school, either. The person has to be able to handle blood, guts, and pain, and I have to use my funds or to find scholarship money to send local people to medical school.”
“Just send an email to Frank, Bobby, and Billie Jo,” said Tania. “There have got to be ex-military people who would love to help with recruiting for stuff like that. There has to be some way of sorting through, finding people who want to do this. And I'll make you a bet, it's going to be the women. Provide scholarships and I guarantee they'll be lining up. They may have even had some schooling, they just need to finish.”
“I love your mind,” said Sanur, placing his palms on both sides of her head and smiling at her. “So quick, always ready for new ideas.” He let her go, squeezed her fingers, then kissed the tips.
“Father and Mother love each other,” said Aat in Thai. Everyone laughed, then the students went off to school, and everyone else went back to their offices. Tania didn’t see Lupe’s face, the flash of venom. Sanur did.
Revelation
The beat was in their blood, on their skin. Tania moved under his hands, hips swaying. Sanur had enough. He had a woman, and he needed to see all of her, not glimpses. Sweat on their bodies from dancing in another way. He put his hand on the back of her neck, kissed her deeply. She groaned, grabbed his hand, and pulled him out into the night. They went back to her place on his bike. Feeling the vibration between his legs made him insane. He needed, wanted, desired so much more.
Sanur put the helmets away, and Tania led him, keycard by keycard, into her apartment. He shut the door with his foot, then found himself up against it. He felt those small hands slide over his skin. He carefully slid off his shirt, rolled it up, and threw it on her kitchen chair. She did the same with her own spaghetti-strap golden top. He slid his fingers over her breasts, kissed her throat, nibbled her ear sharply. She moaned, slid her hands ever downward.
He gasped as she reached into his slacks, undid them. He kicked off his shoes, stepped out of the slacks. It was not in his nature to kick them aside, so he just left them there, stepped to the right. She lifted one foot, then another. Her sandals went flying, then her golden lace camisole bra. Her breasts were swollen, tight.
Sanur knelt, licked with gentle flicks, sucked. Prayed to his goddess. Tania gasped, moaned, ran her fingers through his hair. She stepped out of her crimson skirt, threw it on the same chair where his shirt lay in a crumpled ball. He slid his fingers downward, ever downward. Tania gasped, hitched her breath, moaned, and then threw her head back. Her whole body clenched, released.
Sanur rejoiced. He had found the right way to please her. He stepped back to another chair, brought her with him, hands on her hips. He slid off her bikini underwear, left his own boxers on. It was time for him to worship her. He slid his fingers down, slid his fingers into her honey. She sat, legs suddenly boneless.
He knelt, kissed her, slid down her neck, kissed those perfect breasts again with flicks of his tongue. She hissed, arched her back again, and gasped. He kissed lower and lower, and she clawed his hair, stroked his cheek, slid her hands down his arms.
He opened her legs wide, kissed the inside of each thigh. He used the tip of his long tongue to make her gasp again and again. She mewled, gasped harder and harder, and mewled again, arched her back, and groaned. Finally, limp in his arms, she said, “Bed.” He stood, picked her up, and carried her to bed. Staggered, righted himself. He felt her lay her head on his chest. “Rani. My queen.” She felt so strong under his hands. He stood her up, pulled back the sheets, slid her into them. He knelt, helped her relax on the pillow.
And then, his phone went off. He seriously considered throwing it out the window. He answered it. A terrified
man began speaking in the Old Language about lions. It was one of Supayalat’s people, sent to set up motorcycle pathways to get the goods to market. Security was missing and part of the road was damaged. Someone had called the police. He sighed, and said, “I wish to speak to the lion.”
He mouthed, I must go. Tania waved a hand. Her hair was spread out against the pillow. He longed to make her comfortable. He went into the bathroom, put warm water on a washcloth for her.
A growly voice came on the line. “We know the situation. Who called the police?”
“I do not know. We will pay the hyenas, but we want safety for our road and our people. They carry the products of the people in your area. If they prosper, so you do as well.” He crossed back to the bedroom, pulled back the sheet, cleaned his love’s trembling body, and pulled the covers back over her. Sanur sighed as the lion roared. He would have to go to Zimbabwe to solve the problem. He put the cloth away in the hamper, kissed her lips. She sighed, rolled over, already sliding into sleep.
Sanur dressed while he soothed and cajoled using some very ancient protocols and agreements, and then was out the door. Lawan would find him a flight, get him to where he could solve the problem. He winced, wondered when he would have time with his woman again.
Supayalat met him at the airport. “It is resolved?”
Sanur hissed. “Yes. I had to hire more pride people to supervise the hyenas.” He turned slitted eyes towards her. “I need for you to deal with this. I need time with my woman.”
“How is Htay?”
“She is well. Her doctor says things are well.”
“You must tell your woman all things.”
Sanur hissed out a sigh. “You are correct.”
Supayalat relaxed. She had not expected the capitulation. “She will be shocked. Surprised. She may not react the way you expect.”