Never Deal with Dragons (11 page)

He walked to the shelves and ran a finger along the spines. “Here. Hian-puo’s biography. Lord Relobu managed to get him to speak to me for
On the History of Dragons
, but I put this biography together several years later, and Hian-puo had already lost his taste for cooperation. As I was the writer, and human, he refused to participate, but I managed to gather quite a bit of information from other sources. Perhaps it will help you decide how to proceed during the negotiations.”

“This is great. Thanks, Richard.”

The smile he gave me transformed his face from dull business to boyishly charming, and I suddenly remembered my promise to Carol. “What are you doing this weekend?”

“Nothing, just catching up on some reading I need to do for some of Relobu’s contracts.”

“Great. That leaves you plenty of time for a card game or two at my apartment this Saturday.” I grinned. “I need to brush up on my arbitration skills before the first conference. Poker is one of the best ways to practice negotiation.” I winked. “And I have a roommate who’s dying to meet you. A very pretty female roommate.”

Richard blushed and I laughed. Carol was going to love this guy.

“You are the cutest thing. Any chance you have buddies who’d want to tag along? We’ll need at least four if we want to play anything that requires a partner.”

“Well, I can’t think of any off the top of my—”

“I’ll be there.”

Richard and I both turned to find Trian standing in the doorway, shooting me a death glare.

I shot him a look right back. “I don’t remember inviting you. In fact, I remember saying something along the lines of ‘if you ever set foot inside my home again I’ll stab you through the heart.’”

Trian ignored me completely and aimed that insistent gaze in Richard’s direction. “What time?”

Richard coughed once, uncomfortably. “Seven works for me.”

Trian nodded. “Seven it is.” He glanced back to me, his eyes sparking with temper. “See you then.” He closed the library door behind him as he left.

“I wondered. I mean, it’s none of my business, of course, but—”

I could practically feel Richard twitching nervously beside me, so I rescued him from his misery.

“Trian and I used to date.”

“Oh. Oh!”

Richard’s tone—a mix of shock and no small bit of horror—grated on my already irritated nerves.

“Look. I can promise you that whatever we had, it is long over. It won’t affect how I do my job.”

“Of course not. I was merely...surprised. That’s all.”

“Yes, well. I was stupid, and I got over it. End of story.” Ready to change the conversation to anything other than my massively failed love life, I slipped a business card from my pocket and scribbled the address to my apartment on the back. “Seven o’clock?”

Richard took the card somewhat absently. “Yes. Of course. I’ll be there.”

Chapter Seven

By the time seven rolled around, I was already riding a pretty good buzz from the three beers I’d downed in an hour’s time. I’d called everybody I knew, and no one was free for a night of poker. Resigned to the fact that I was stuck on what amounted to a double date with Carol, Richard, and Trian, I felt fully justified in medicating my frustration.

Because of my dad, I had a four-beer limit. This was going to be a long night.

The bell rang at exactly seven, and as Carol was still primping in her bedroom, I opened the front door. Richard stood in the frame, looking slightly stiff in a pair of pressed slacks and long-sleeved sweater. I fought the urge to smirk despite my foul mood. Richard was one of those men who worked so much they felt naked without a full three-piece suit between them and the world. I couldn’t resist teasing him just a bit.

“Well, helloo there stranger,” I said, drawing out my vowels as I let my eyes run from the tips of his shiny shoes to his chest. Unlike Carol, I’d refused to dress up for the party, but my feminine pride prickled at the thought of looking like a bum in front of an ex-boyfriend, no matter how vile, so I’d spent extra time on my makeup and hair. I leaned against the door frame, deliberately giving Richard the full view of my snug jeans and cleavage-displaying shirt. I smiled and fluttered my eyelashes in his direction. “You look like you could use a good time.”

“As a matter of fact, I can.” Trian shouldered his way in front of Richard, leaned down, and gave me a smacking kiss on the lips. Before I had a chance to react, he shoved a frosty six-pack in my hands and stepped past me into the living room.

“Creep,” I muttered as I tried not to notice how nice he looked in a frayed black T-shirt and equally worn jeans. Like he’d done a million times before, Trian headed for the kitchen. I trailed him, with the intention of reminding him he no longer held “get what you want when you want it” privileges in this apartment. I walked in as he started pulling out glasses from the upper cabinet and scowled at his back as he unerringly snatched a bag of pretzels and candy corn from my hidden stash.

From behind me, Richard cleared his throat. “I, um, brought some wine.”

Oops. I’d left him standing at the door, and he’d wandered back for some company. I opened my mouth to apologize for my rudeness, but Carol saved me from a reply by breezing into the room, a giddy smile stretching across her face when she spotted Richard.

I was obviously the only one dreading the evening.

“That is just so sweet of you. Thank you so much for coming. I’m Carol.” She took the bottle of wine with one hand and stretched the other out in greeting, giggling when Richard lifted it to his mouth for a light kiss.

I took the bottle from her before she managed to drop it. With a scowl toward the ex-boyfriend who felt way too comfortable in my kitchen, I helped Trian gather the glasses while Carol led Richard into the living room where we’d set up the card table.

Richard looked dumbstruck by the casual way Carol managed to trail her fingers along his arm as she spoke. With her almost hip-length curly red hair and pixie-like features, Carol got that reaction from the majority of the male population, and Richard was no exception.

Trian grinned when he caught me rolling my eyes, and before my slightly intoxicated brain could stop me, I stuck out my tongue in his direction. The action only made him laugh, and I stomped toward the living room. He followed me, his arms loaded with glassware and candy.

“Was that an invitation?” His mouth was right beside my ear, and I fought not to shiver.

I stopped just outside the room. “What is your problem? You know I didn’t invite you here.”

Trian leaned back against the counter, the casual movement causing his tattoo to peep from beneath his sleeve. The artwork was the word “two” in dragonscript, and the one on his arm was an exact miniature of the larger version across his stomach. I couldn’t help but glance at the expanse of material across his abs, remembering how the thick dark ink had trembled as I’d run my fingers across it in bed.

I glanced up to catch Trian staring at me with an unreadable expression. He looked confused. And hurt.

“I’m drunk.” For some reason I felt the need to clarify that fact. I licked my lips and watched as a spark of gold flashed in Trian’s eyes. His pupils contracted slightly, oddly, and I gasped.

He blinked and dumped his packages into my hands before turning toward the freezer. Silently, he pulled out my ice trays and broke the cubes into a large bowl. He kept his back to me when he spoke.

“Wanna help me get this stuff to the table?”

I dropped the six-pack and candy onto the counter with a thud. My brain had recovered from its flustered state, and I remembered why I was angry. “Help you? I’m not that drunk. You seem to know exactly where everything is.”

He shot me a smile over his shoulder. I smiled back, and—knowing he hated the action—I patted him on the rear. Leaning in until this time it was my mouth by his ear, I whispered, “Trian? Don’t ever try and kiss me again, because martial arts instructor or not, I’ll make sure you’ll regret it.”

Richard and Carol had long since left the kitchen, so I joined them at the card table, making sure to add a little swing to my walk. I felt Trian’s eyes on me until I stepped out of sight.

I’d planned to quiz Richard and Trian about the best approaches to negotiation techniques for Rime, Hian-puo’s designated emissary for the arbitration session, but based on Richard’s smiles and Carol’s near-constant giggling, my roommate and my temporary boss were really hitting it off. I hated to ruin the mood by talking shop.

I was nervous about the negotiations. My fear was stupid—I’d been the main arbiter on plenty of cases due to Emory’s penchant for tardiness—but this would be the first I’d handled in a year having my name directly attached. By the end of the evening, my buzz had long since worn off and my anxiety levels were rising.

I called it anxiety, but I had to admit a lot of my unease stemmed from the fact that Trian spent the rest of the evening just watching me. Oh, he’d answer a question if Carol or Richard sent one in his direction, but for the most part he remained a silent observer.

And he’d still managed to charm my best friend. I tried not to be disgusted with Carol, who’d spent the night flirting shamelessly with both men, but I made a mental note to remind her that Trian was the same “nice guy” who almost got me fired.

For my own peace of mind, I had to assume her easygoing attitude was less because of her approval of Trian and more because she was totally delighted with Richard. Right now, she was busy whispering something in Richard’s ear, and judging by the flush that climbed past his collarbone, it wasn’t appropriate for mixed company.

And it was official. I couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m going to get some fresh air,” Carol didn’t even look up; she was too busy listening to Richard explain the origins of verb conjugation in dragonspeak. Complete nerds. Both of them. They were perfect for each other, and it was making me ill. I snagged the half-empty chip bowl on my way to the door. My life was just depressing.

I’d barely reached the iron rail of my patio when I heard the door slide open and then close behind me. Trian stood just outside, his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans. I exhaled with a white puff; the October nights were quickly changing from cool to cold.

“They seem to have hit it off.” Trian leaned his forearms against the rail, his long-fingered hands clasped loosely together.

I sighed. I shouldn’t be talking to him; I knew better than to trust myself in the same room. Without even trying, he managed to grab my attention as if an invisible wire ran between us, yanking my emotions up and down at will. The puppet and her puppet master.

“Yeah. I thought they would. That’s why I invited him.”

“I wish I’d known that.” Trian was silent, his gaze roaming across the darkened landscape below. And then, “I thought you were interested in him.”

Surprised, I turned my head fully to look at him. “Me?” I choked back a laugh as I tried to imagine listening in awe to the history of dragonscript without my eyes crossing. “No, Carol can have him. They’re cute together. Besides, the last thing I need right now is a relationship. I don’t need the stress. If I screw up at this negotiation...” I let my words trail off, unwilling to contemplate the results of my failure.

Trian straightened and placed his hands on my shoulders. “Myrna, trust me, you will do fine. You have a natural talent for mediation. Your willingness to approach a problem from different angles is a skill, not a downfall. Trust your instincts. And don’t worry. If the negotiations don’t work out, we’ll find a way to get our team back.”

In typical Trian fashion, he’d unerringly zeroed in on the real reason for my restlessness and frustration. It wasn’t just my career on the line. While I enjoyed the evening playing cards and laughing with friends there was a group sitting in a prison cell somewhere in China, waiting for me to say the magic words to set them free.

“Trian. I could spend weeks in the library, pawing through musty textbooks, and I still wouldn’t be ready. The information is there—I just won’t have the time to find it. I’ve scanned all the English translations, and I’m only scratching the surface. My grasp of written dragonscript is hideous. It will take me months to absorb everything I need to know.”

“So? Find someone who can read dragonscript.”

“It’s not just the research. I need someone to help me write up a contract detailing the agreement between Richard and Hian-puo’s representative.”

“If Richard’s busy, have Carol help.”

I blinked. Why hadn’t I thought of that? Carol worked at a large marketing firm catering to the rebooted Hollywood crowd. Because dragons were by and large footing the bills for the movie industry—they liked their entertainment just as much as the human side—she worked with contracts in dragonscript all the time.

“Do you think Richard would go for it? I mean, Carol doesn’t have any experience with dragons, not really.”

“She can read dragonscript. That already puts her on the short list. There aren’t many people who’ve studied the language as extensively as Carol. And if all goes well, you’ll negotiate the release of our team, and we can move on to some trade agreements, which she does have experience with.”

I smiled. Although fashion was Carol’s interest at CreaTV, she was the company’s go-to gal when they had dragonspeak syndication agreements to decode. Even better, Carol would jump at the chance to spend time with Richard. And when I told her about Lord Relobu’s library, filled with books written in dragonspeak, she’d be over the moon.

I looked to Trian. Right now it didn’t matter that I didn’t trust him—I’d needed to hear exactly what he told me. With a couple of sentences he’d managed to lift the heavy weight of responsibility from my shoulders. I met his eyes with my own. “Thank you.”

He stuffed his hands back into the pockets of his jeans as if he were uncomfortable with the praise. “Bring Carol to our next training session. Not much I can do in a week, but I’d feel better if she was at least briefed on the basics.”

“Will do.” Blowing on my hands to keep them warm, I slipped past him to go inside. Against my better judgment, I stretched onto my toes and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Really. Thank you.”

He smiled slightly. “Any time.”

* * *

I sat at a DRACIM conference table in a ridiculously uncomfortable suit, and examined Hian-puo’s team. My heart sank. Four dragons, all armed to the teeth in leather and steel.

They certainly didn’t look prepared for negotiations. I had really hoped this session would move quickly, to bolster both my and Richard’s faith in my abilities. But that plan didn’t look too promising.

Ah well. I’d learned that sometimes it took a few rounds of casual conversation before the real problems could be addressed. I scribbled a note—
Have Sara order lunch
—and passed it down to Carol, who was nearest the door. This thing wasn’t wrapping up over breakfast, and nothing hurt negotiations worse than a pack of hungry dragons.

A large green dragon, who I assumed was Rime based on his size and air of command, scanned the table with a stone-face. The rest of his team stood silently at his side as he finished sizing us up. When the dragon’s eyes met mine, his red irises blazed with glee, and I felt Trian tense beside me. I put a steadying hand on his forearm. For me or him, I wasn’t sure.

One of the things I’d learned from Lord Relobu’s library was a dragon’s eye color varied based on genetics. I’d never seen anything other than the warm yellow carried by Lord Relobu’s descendants. Red was new. And scary.

From Carol, I heard a gasp when she got a look at the dragon, and wondered whether she was sorry about attending today’s meeting. I’d told her after her help in Relobu’s library last week that her presence wasn’t likely to be needed for the actual meeting, as most of the paperwork, if any, would be taken care of at a later date. But she’d slept over at Richard’s the night before, and had taken the day off for an after-negotiation lover’s lunch.

As he and his team made their way to the table—I’d picked the large conference room furnished with one taller than my head with enormous barstools equipped with ladders for the humans and ground-level perches for the dragons—I took the opportunity to study Rime’s colleagues.

They were all smaller than he, with long, sinuous bodies that seemed to crawl rather than walk to their perches. I fought a shudder. Snakes are not my favorite thing in the world, and these Chinese dragons held more than a vague resemblance. No wonder Trian had spent so much time on the venomous dragon varieties during training.

The dragons’ wings were also a surprise. They were large and obviously functional, considering they’d flown in from Beijing yesterday evening. In Lord Relobu’s family wings this size were fairly common, due to an inordinate amount of butterfly lizard DNA. But Hian-puo’s particular genetic strain leaned closer to the poisonous snake variety. And they usually sported smaller wings, if they had any at all.