Topic: The Bait

Morana

Date: 2009-04-03 01:23 EST
"...The copper kettles are pretty old, and it set me back a lot at the time to find and refurbish the make I wanted -- but this place is what I'd dreamed of building for years, and it deserves all the attention it gets." Alain DeMuer walked backwards the last several steps past the brew kettles in the back of the Silver Mark Pub & Brewery. He and Morana were alone here; the bartender was in the main room along with only a handful of patrons, as it was still pretty early in the day. The House leader was dressed in a relaxed but professional manner, doing a good job exuding the energy and innovation expected of a business and political leader his age, in spite of what had been a very stressful week.

Sharp heels click-clacked on the flooring as Morana walked a few steps closer to one of the kettles. A faint smile curved up her lips; she flipped sable hair back over her shoulder and looked up at the top of the kettle. ?You do seem to attract quite a bit of attention,? she paused a heartbeat, two, ?here. Enough to keep a new pub and brewery above the water when most ventures of this type here collapse within a month.? Amber eyes slanted sideways to DeMuer; she tapped her pen lightly against her lower lip.

He smiled, hand settled into his pants pockets as he leaned on the edge of the counter. "I've been saving money ever since I started into private investigation, so I had plenty of start-up capital, and poured it into a fixer-upper. We went with three varieties of lager, pale, amber and black, so we could keep sales up through all seasons; we've also pursued deals with local bars and taverns to maintain strong sales right out the gate."

?Mmmm.? Absolutely non-committal, that sound. Pen made quick and cryptic notes before she turned to Alain and smiled, brilliantly. ?You have some quite competent executives working for you, Baron DeMuer. Mr. Aurene was both professional and thorough. Do you delegate the management of this project as well? And how much leeway do you give your managers?? Flipping through mental files and angles, potential articles.

"Thank you," he said to the executives, but to the follow-up question, he shook his head. "No, I'm afraid I couldn't -- when I opened this place, I only had S.P.I. and the Division bringing in most of the income, and Kaldi -- co-owned with the former governor, Kitty Helston -- didn't have any big returns, so I had to devote a lot of time I didn't really have to getting it off the ground. But I've had the help of one of the Red Dragon Inn's own bartenders, Atalanta, in tending the bar and all kinds of responsibilities around the brewpub. Without her, really, I don't think this place would be possible.?

"Whenever I can, I like to give my managers as much leeway as humanly possible. I pick the most capable and innovative minds I can find, and I don't think they could do their job as brilliantly as they have without lots of room to maneuver. If I can't trust their instincts, why would I put them in charge?" he added with an easy, charming smile.

Sparkle of amber eyes lit her expression. Click-clack through the room brought her to the counter. She didn?t lean against it; her posture was too good to slump so. Her rich voice was practically a purr. ?That is a good question. So you trust your managers?? Delicate lift of one sable brow while she stood with pen poised over pad to capture his exact reply.

"Of course," he said plainly. There was a playful smile in his eyes -- he knew and she knew this wasn't the kind of answer a journalist could take advantage of. Sometimes he gave her a lot, other times, nothing.

It all depended on what you were looking for. Her brilliant smile reappeared, and she appeared fully satisfied as she made note of that answer. Another long string of notes ? illegible to anyone unfamiliar with her particular short-handed code ? followed the two word answer. ?And what?s your course ahead, Alain? You have a barony to protect as well as your many investments here in the city. How much political power do you plan to leverage??

Morana

Date: 2009-04-03 01:23 EST
"I believe we are already in a good position to protect what is ours, both in RhyDin and in the Barony," Alain said to her with a smile. "We opened a cross-realms gate in Noirmont recently to expand trade, and if we see good returns at the end of the quarter, we'll investigate other avenues to expand in that direction. As far as aspirations towards more businesses or political power, we have none, but we intend to expand our shipping by seeking out new trading partners and opening up new lanes in the future."

Again, a delicate lift of one sable brow. ?You have no aspirations towards more political power?? Tap of pen against her lower lip, thoughtfully. ?Does the D.E. Political Action Group ring a bell, Alain? Or is that an action of one of your managers?? Despite the (surely-deliberate) bait of the Noirmont gate opening, Morana continued with her previous line of questioning.

He chuckled softly, not even breaking a sweat at the sudden change of gears. "If you wanted to talk about Mr. Aurene's hobbies, you should've asked him when you had a chance... As I said, I give those I delegate responsibility to considerable leeway, and if Jaster and his colleagues in DeMuer Exports want to dabble in politics... then all I can do is admire their interest. I have my own private political opinions, and those in the House and my other holdings are distinct from my own. Why, last year," he said, opening a hand in a simple gesture, "I had a Division employee who ran for political office, and while I didn't stop him, I publically supported another candidate."

This time both brows lifted, and she made another series of notes in her book. ?You don?t feel responsible for the direction of political support and funding which is directly connected to your House? And which candidate are you supporting this year, Alain?? Her voice was positively sweet. She looked at him with amber eyes gleaming through lowered lashes.

"I don't feel responsible for the direction of political support from individual members, or even what groups those members may choose to form..." Alain smiled easily. "I think it would send the wrong message if I micromanaged the people in my employ for voting blocs. As far as the candidate I will vote for, should I decide to vote... that is a private matter, but I'm happy to see the election running smoothly, and I'm glad the community's maintained a healthy interest."

?Mmmm.? It was another of those noncommittal sounds. Pen scratched across paper, then halted. She shook the pen, then frowned at it and tried making a mark at the edge of her notebook. Another frown, transmuted to a winsome smile. ?I seem to have run out of ink. Could you be a darling and fetch me more ink or a working pen?? Full lips smiled prettily as Morana held out her pen in demonstration of its failure.

"Of course," Alain said with a smile, and he pushed from his lean and ducked out.

As soon as the door swung shut behind Alain, Morana flowed behind the counter. Heels that had click-clacked all day were silent. Shell-pink enameled nails flipped through a stack of papers ? bills ? and then paused. Sorting backwards, a paper with a crumpled edge was eased into full view. Code. Full lips curved in a smile; pen lifted and flipped. A twist of the cap sounded with a faint but distinct *click*. Just as fast to put things back in place and return to her former position. Not a hair out of place, no sign that anything had been touched or disturbed.

Alain offered her a DeMuer Exports pen upon his return, apparently none the wiser to her little theft. "Hope this'll do?"

?Marvelously.? She tucked her drained pen into its habitual place, hooked on the collar of her v-neck blouse. New pen was opened, tested. Another scribble of notes filled two lines of her notebook. When Morana looked up, it was with a throaty laugh. ?Now when are you going to offer me one of those Silver Mark lagers to finish out the tour, Alain?? Amber eyes sparkled merrily.

"Right this way, please," he said with delighted laughter and the subtly guarded eyes he's had throughout the tour, holding open the door to the main room for her.

Click-clack of sharp heels as she breezed through the door ahead of him, with another rich laugh of delight as the door swung closed behind them.