Chapter 18

Book 3: Eat the Pretties

Thursday morning brought Nick a surprise he wasn’t sure how to deal with. He looked over the resume the young woman sitting across from him had brought in. She’d worked her entire career at Stryker-Stone Concierge Services, most recently in Boston, before that in London, and before that in Bangalore. The name at the top of the resume was Eleanor Agnihotri and when she shook his hand and said, “It’s nice to finally meet you in person,” she had the same faint upper-class English lilt to her voice as the woman he’d talked to on the phone. But, she was clearly Indian.

Nick decided not to address his surprise at all. Maybe she really was named Eleanor and he was just being incredibly racist. He said, “Welcome to New York. Have you been before?”

“I came here as part of my factotum training three years ago,” she said. “When I left the program, I was transferred to our call center in Boston to be a team lead for client acquisition. I spent four months living on the Upper West Side.”

“You have factotum training?” Nick asked.

“I was in the program for twenty-two months. Most of our best administrative staff have some factotum training, but failed to complete the program. Even for those of us who don’t complete the training, we come out as very capable administrative assistants.” said Eleanor.

Nick leafed through the resume again. Apparently, SSCS had never heard that such a document should be no more than two pages. Eleanor’s had to be at least ten. He said, “I have no idea what I should be asking you and I’ve already seen your work over the phone. If you want the role, it’s yours.”

She smiled radiantly. “Thank you. But, you should ask your questions first.”

“I’m sorry?” Nick shook his head.

“You had a question when I walked in the door, I think,” said Elaine. “I suspect I know what it was, but I don’t want to presume.”

Nick smirked. “Is this like ‘Ask Me One More?’”

“I see the similarity.” said Eleanor. “But, in this case, I want you to feel comfortable talking to me about anything. I’ve worked for SSCS since I was sixteen both on-site and in the call centers. The variety of requests we get can still surprise me, but it hasn’t shocked me in a long time. If I’m going to be an effective assistant, you should be comfortable talking to me. So, please. Ask your question.”

Nick winced. He didn’t really have a way of backing off now. “I was just wondering if your name is really Eleanor.”

“It’s not the name I was born with, but it is the name I use most commonly. I took it because many of our clients perceive an Indian name and accent to be indicative of lower quality service. SSCS found that Indian call takers were routinely rated lower by first-time clients than those with English and American midwestern accents even when the service levels were the same,” said Eleanor. “My accent is the result of locution training, but I hardly remember what I used to sound like now.”

“It’s very convincing,” said Nick.

Eleanor inclined her head. “Thank you. If it makes the question less awkward, SSCS provides locution training for most of our agents, not just the ones from India. Many clients find some of the native Boston accents off-putting as well.”

“It does, actually,” said Nick. “If you prefer Eleanor, that’s fine.”

“I’m amenable to client preference,” said Eleanor. “I see practical advantages to going back to using Tanvi, though.”

“Practical advantages?” Nick asked.

Tanvi nodded. “I’ve been in the Boston call center for over a year and been very popular with some clients and potential clients. I declined a number of offers to become full-time administrative staff for other clients. If they realized I was the woman they talked to on the phone, it might cause resentment.”

“You turned down other clients, but accepted me? Why?” asked Nick.

“In order to protect confidentiality, I can’t discuss my reasons for turning down other clients,” said Tanvi. “I can say that you were a more desirable choice.”

Nick wanted to ask her to call him desirable again. It sounded so good in her accent. But, he was afraid she would. He needed to be more careful with people who worked for him. His Monday night meeting with Ainsley had taken a lot out of him and was probably just the tip of that particularly twisted iceberg.

“Can you tell me anything about factotum training?” he asked instead. “The whole program seems a bit mysterious.”

“I don’t think there’s anything mysterious about the training. It’s sixteen months of intense training in use of SSCS’s systems and network, six months of practical field training, and then two months of specialized training once you’re paired with a client so that you go in the first day knowing the basics of his or her domains of influence.” Tanvi said easily.

“So, you have all the systems and networks training Penny has?” Nick asked.

“I actually trained with Penny. I’m looking forward to seeing her again,” said Tanvi.

“Great,” said Nick. “When can you start?”

“I’ve already started,” said Tanvi. “Unless you need me to start later.”

Nick laughed. “Now is just fine. Do you know how to use the Stone family registry?”

“I know the public part of it very well,” said Tanvi. “I’d need your login if you want me to get anything from the private side.”

“I don’t think I have a login,” said Nick.

“As a registered member of the Stone family, you’re entitled to one,” said Tanvi. “I can arrange to have one issued.”

“Please do,” said Nick. “Then, if you can find Emily, she wanted to look something up on the family registry.”

“If her query includes sensitive information, should I run it past you before I share it with her?” Tanvi asked.

Nick almost said no. He didn’t care who knew Stone family secrets. But with Jazz and Pilar large in his thoughts, he realized he was engaging with the family whether he’d planned to or not. Instead, he said, “Only if it’s about someone other than Clive Something-Stone. She’s welcome to know whatever she can find out about him. In fact, if she is looking up Clive and doesn’t find what she’s looking for, tell her I’ll ask my cousin Inez to talk her ear off about him.”

Tanvi rose from her chair. “I’ll just get set up in my office and take care of that then. I’m right next door. Yes?”

Nick walked her to the door and showed her that she was, indeed, right next door. “Max is on your other side. He’s our entire IT department right now. The process for getting logged into the network isn’t well documented yet, so he’s the man to go to.”

As Tanvi stepped into her office, Hall Dunford came around the corner. Nick waved to him and welcomed the Englishman into his own office.

“New employee?” Hall asked.

“Contractor, actually,” said Nick. He’d had the difference explained to him earlier in the week. “My new personal assistant, Tanvi Agnihotri. What can I do for you, Hall?”

“I have two requests - or a request and a pitch, really. Really, it’s two requests - one for a pitch and the other...” Hall trailed off. “Sorry, I’m still terrible at asking for things.”

Nick laughed. “And I’m terrible at offering them. This could be a long, awkward conversation if we think about it that way. Maybe we should just talk.”

“Marvelously American idea,” said Hall. He looked around and gestured to the shelf full of uniform blue binders. “Are these the famous Nick Coyle campaign notes?”

“They are,” said Nick. “The office looked so empty when I first saw it and they were like the only office supplies I owned. I should probably move them up to my apartment before I accidentally hand the head of UN water relief a complete history of Pangaria.”

Hall was up out of his chair, looking at the shelf. He gestured towards the binders. “May I?”

“Take the one furthest to your right. They’re in chronological order and the ones on the left are from like fourth grade. I can’t even read my own handwriting from then half the time.” said Nick. In spite of himself, he was a bit excited and nervous. He mostly thought of Hall as his friend and DM these days, but this was still Hall Dunston, who’d made a second career out of dungeon mastering on the Internet considering his own somewhat haphazard work.

Hall took the binder down and opened to a random spot. His eyes scanned the page. “The Dwarves of the Upper Reaches are an odd lot. Driven from the Deep Under by crippling claustrophobia, they cling to the cliff faces like so many mountain goats, living in small family groups...”

Nick laughed. “Max is still playing a DOTUR. He wanted to play a Dwarven cleric who hated being underground and we came up with that as his origin story.”

Hall came back to his chair, still holding the binder open. “Your friends talk about your campaign a lot. It’s like their shared mythology.”

“We’ve been playing together since Simon broke his ankle on like the last day of fourth grade,” said Nick. “Or we were anyway. I don’t know when I’m going to get to DM again.”

Hall laid the binder on Nick’s desk. “Did you ever think about publishing Thieves and Orphans as a module? It sounded pretty epic.”

Nick chuckled. “I’m pretty sure it gets better every time they talk about it. I was in the sixth grade when I ran that. It was kid stuff ... although it was the birthplace of M. P. D. G. Wan - Arwen’s giant pixie with broken wings.”

Hall looked thoughtful. “Do you guys call her Wan sometimes? I thought it was ‘Wen’ with a Yank accent like the end of her name.”

“No, it’s Wan,” said Nick. “In Thieves and Orphans, the guys all played the thieves and she played one of the orphans. I forget what the character was called. It’s probably in one of the older binders, but she rebooted the character as an adult last year and her alias was M. P. D. G. Wan. The character wouldn’t admit the initials stood for anything, but the whole name out of character was ‘Magic Pixie Dream Girl With A Knife.’ Now we call Arwen ‘Wan’ when she’s being a little psycho.”

“We should team her up with Corva,” said Hall. “Casey’s starting to have fun with the whole Dark Knight style approach to playing her.”

“How are things with Casey?” Nick asked. “I haven’t seen her since the Fourth.”

“Things are going ... well,” said Hall cautiously. “Have I ever discussed my relationship with Casey with you?”

Nick frowned, suddenly worried about how he’d offended Hall. “No. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Oh, Heavens. No.” said Hall. “I just meant to ask if you knew about me, Cat, and Casey. I didn’t want to start talking as if you knew and then ... Anyway, you know Cat and I are in a relationship with her?”

“The last time I saw her, she was making out with your wife on my roof,” said Nick. “I’m pretty sure everyone who was at the party knows about them at least.”

Hall gave a good-natured laugh. “I’m still getting used to it being such an open secret. When Casey told us she didn’t want her family to know about our relationship, we expected things to be a little more discreet. Sometimes, we think she’s trying to get in the tabloids.”

“She might be. Maybe that’s the easiest way of telling her family,” said Nick. “Are you worried about your reputation?”

“I was at first, but Cat pointed out that ‘World’s Luckiest Nerd, Living Every Man’s Fantasy’ would hardly be a bad reputation. I owned ‘Second-Rate English Wil Wheaton.’ I can own this.” Hall smiled.

“I’ve heard you call yourself that,” said Nick. “Where does it come from?”

“I used to let Internet comments get under my skin,” said Hall. “That one in particular really bothered me because I was pretty sure it was posted by one of the voices in my own head. Owning it helped me grow a thicker skin. I’m not going to let the idea of a few hundred more trolls calling me ‘cuck’ get in the way of my happiness.”

“Hate that word.” Nick glanced at the clock on his PC. “I hate to do this, but we should probably get to the point of this meeting. I’m supposed to be in the conference room in forty-five minutes and I’d still like to pack for Montana before lunch so I can spend the rest of the day playing games in good conscience.”

Hall nodded. “Your friends have been kicking around ideas for your next project all week, but they seem rather amorphous still. I’d like to pitch something to them.”

Nick nodded. “Sure. Absolutely. Can I get a sneak preview or should I wait for the big reveal with everybody else?”

Hall leaned in. “I want to burn down Pangaria.”

Nick’s eyes narrowed. “Where I come from, them’s fightin’ words.”

Hall smiled. “Hear me out. You want to do a project that can do some good and not hurt people if it fails, no? That sounds like education. Whatever project you’re doing, it’s going to be in parallel with a lot of research about real-world problems. Why not leverage that research into the warm-up project - create a world in chaos and include material about real world issues projected into a fantasy setting. You remember the burning of Laketown. Right? Tolkien spends the first half of the book building up Thorin and his quest and making him the hero, then does a sharp right turn and makes him the villain because he doesn’t want to share with the refugees from Laketown. That’s good drama.” Nick noticed that, when Hall got engaged in a subject, his awkwardness faded to the point of invisibility. He spoke emphatically and gesticulated to add emphasis. “In bad fantasy, the problems are all one-dimensional and solvable by brave adventurers, but Pangaria is already deep. Dennis told me you’ve made him cry more than once.”

“I bet he didn’t tell you first.” Nick was trying hard not to get caught up in Hall’s enthusiasm. “We’ve been known to tease him about being a sensitive soul.”

“Actually, he did. We were talking and smoking up on the roof,” said Hall.

Nick gave Hall a serious look. “You know, I can accept the whole ‘threesome with your wife and a cosplay model’ thing, but I’m not sure I’m ready to imagine Hall Dunford smoking pot.”

Hall shrugged. “Only Dennis was smoking. I’ve tried it, but didn’t particularly enjoy how it made me feel. I was able to relax more than usual, but it turns out I’d rather be uptight than paranoid. You?”

“Never tried it,” said Nick. “I may someday, but I have to be super careful. It turns out both of my biological parents died because they imbibed more drugs than they could handle and still exercise good judgment. And as you can see by my two thousand pages of campaign notes, I have their proclivity for going way too deep down my own special rabbit holes. It’s not hard for me to imagine wrapping myself around a tree or ploughing into a pier with a boat full of people.”

Hall lowered his head. “Sorry.”

Nick shook his own head. “No. I’m sorry. That got dark fast - another proclivity of mine and one I hear Englishmen live in mortal fear of - ask about the wife, hear she died horribly. Let’s talk about your idea for the project.”

“Well, that was it really,” said Hall. “What do you think?”

Nick considered his answer carefully. He wanted to do exactly what Hall suggested. He’d toyed with the idea of creating a coherent guide to Pangaria and publishing it electronically, but like so many half-formed and even fully-formed plans, he’d put it aside when he found out about the trust. But he’d just spoken about his proclivity for getting too far up his own asshole on things even if he’d used less colorful language. It was a habit that could have far-reaching repercussions now that he’d been handed the keys to a giant vault full of cash. He said, “It sounds like a giant vanity project that I want to pretend I’m not vain enough to seriously consider.”

“My experience in Hollywood is that all projects, at some level, are vanity projects,” said Hall.

Nick considered that. What was the “first project” if not a vanity project anyway? It wasn’t supposed to make money. Nick could never make money by his own efforts as fast as it piled up in that Scrooge McDuck vault he liked to imagine the trust was held in. He decided to take one more stab at false modesty. “Could we do it with Shar?”

“My campaign world from the DM Power Hour?” Hall shook his head. “Shar is an excellent example of bad fantasy. I created it to fit the format - one hour sessions with five players don’t leave a lot of room for subtle backstories.”

“Really? I thought you liked it enough to be working on a screenplay?” Nick pointed out.

“I haven’t touched the screenplay in months. Every time I work on it, I get farther and farther from the gameplay that inspired it,” said Hall. “I might eventually be able to hammer it into something that I can pitch, but I’d rather work on Pangaria.”

“What would you want to do on the project?” Nick asked. “I’ve been trying to find a way we could work with you on whatever we decided to do. This might be the first thing that’s really obviously on your Venn diagram.”

“I’m thinking I could help with promoting it - maybe something like the Power Hour, but set on Pangaria,” said Hall. “I could bring back a couple of people from the old group, maybe if we had a budget bring in some genre celebrities to play, fly you or one of the models out every so often for continuity with our other work together.”

“It sounds like you’re thinking about doing this in LA?” Nick asked.

Hall nodded. “I do live there. New York is wonderful, but I’ll have to go home eventually.”

Nick was tempted to try to collect Hall and Cat as he seemed to be collecting lingerie models. He wanted all his friends to come live with him - or at least near him as he only had nine apartments to share. But, he only nodded. “Of course.”

“You could come to LA once in a while, you know,” Hall said. “You probably own a plane or two somewhere.”

“Some kind of a timeshare in an executive jet service actually,” said Nick. “I don’t understand how it works, but apparently I can get a plane when I need one.”

“See? You could be totally bicoastal,” said Hall. “Maybe stay in New York in the summer and build your winter palace in LA.”

Nick hadn’t really thought about owning more than one home. It had been in a broad category he thought of as “silly things people with too much money do.” As it turned out, he actually owned about twenty residences around the country, but nineteen of them were leased out and had other people living in them. The trust had been invested in an absurd variety of real estate on his eventual behalf. “I’ll admit. I’m bicoastal curious. Let’s see if I like LA first, though.”

“Fair enough,” said Hall. “It sounds like you’re on-board with the Pangaria project, though.”

“Let me remain skeptical a little while longer. It’s going to be hard enough to get through your pitch singing the praises of my work to my friends without me sitting behind you saying, ‘Hall’s right. I’m the next fucking Tolkien.’” Nick laughed. “You said you had two things to ask. What was the other thing?”

“Ah, yes. As you know, I’m flying back to LA tomorrow morning, but Cat’s got another two weeks or so to work on Arwen’s portrait.” Hall took a deep breath. “Is there any chance she can stay here while she finishes up?”

Nick mentally counted apartments. He and his friends were taking up six even if Lev hardly ever saw his. Emily had a one-year lease on one and he’d given Shelby a key to one for Alexis. That still left one. “Sure. But, if she’d rather go to a different hotel, I can do that too.”

“The hotel we’ve been in has been fine as hotels go, definitely nicer than the ones we stay in at most cons,” said Hall. “But, Cat is a social animal. She likes to be around people. I have no doubt she’d had a whole new set of New York friends if I left her alone in a hotel for two weeks, but we both think she’d be better staying with people she already knows and likes.”

“Then by all means. I’ve got my crack security team downstairs managing room keys now. I couldn’t keep track of them. I’ll let them know to give you the last one,” said Nick. “Does that mean Casey will be staying with us as well?”

“I take it you don’t mind?” Hall asked.

“No, whatever the opposite of minding is, actually. I like Casey and it would be nice...” Nick shook his head. “It would be nice to see her more than once a week.”

“Nick, Casey’s her own person,” said Hall. “If you’re interested in her, don’t stop from getting to know her on our account.”

“Uh, I actually wasn’t going to say that. Casey’s gorgeous and I had a poster of her on the wall in my room that helped me get through high school, but my love life is complicated enough already.” Nick shook his head. “I was actually going to say that it would be nice to hear sex in the residential wing that didn’t involve one or more of my close friends for a change, but then I decided it was too wildly inappropriate even for me to say. If you ever find out you’re a billionaire and decide to move your friends into a fake college dorm, splurge on thicker than average walls.”

“I ... will keep that in mind.” Hall blushed deeply. “If you had a poster of Casey on your wall all through high school, it would have been from her cosplay days. May I ask which character she was portraying?”

Nick was sure his blush was as deep as Hall’s. “I ... suppose mutual assured embarrassment is a valid conversational tactic. She was Sylvanas Windrunner.”

“I’ve actually never seen that outfit,” said Hall. “The first time we met, she was a Mord Sith from Legend of the Seeker.”

“And you slept with her anyway? Brave man,” said Nick. He glanced at the clock. They still had about fifteen minutes before the meeting. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Death, sex, and personal questions. You do know the trifecta of an Englishman’s fears. Don’t you?” Hall smiled. “Ask your question.”

“Well, you’ve been outside of the whole ‘one man, one woman’ thing longer than I have and you’ve probably given questions like this some thought.” Nick took a deep breath, “Do you know what your limit is? Like - would you ever add a fourth person to your relationship and, if you did, would you consider a fifth? There must be a maximum. Right?”

“Believe it or not, I have never given that question any thought,” said Hall. “I’m certain I have a theoretical limit, but I doubt I’ll ever get close enough to it to have to find out what it is. My finding Cat and Casey was like lithium nucleosynthesis - incredibly rare.”

“You lost me,” said Nick.

Hall gestured. “In the first season of Starship: Gaia, they had an episode where the plot device involved the Gaia harvesting lithium from a star. It was basically just hand-waving to explain why we were putting the ship in danger. But, we got hammered on the Internet and we still get shit about it at cons. Lithium doesn’t form in stars. Nearly all of it formed during the Big Bang and even then it was extremely rare.”

Nick was clearly out-nerded here. He said, “So, your relationship is like lithium.”

“Right - for it to come together, a million things had to go right. One small thing out of place and it never would have happened,” said Hall. “Finding someone willing to join our mad experiment is even more wildly improbable. And each one after that is even less likely.”

“So, you’re saying that you’re content with two women.” Nick smirked. “That’s very restrained of you.”

“I never know who Cat will introduce me to next, but I’m not out looking for someone myself,” said Hall. “It takes a special kind of madness to win the lottery and spend all your winnings on more lottery tickets.”

“That makes sense.” Nick sighed. “I think I’ve got a few more lottery tickets than I know what to do with right now, though.”

Hall gave Nick a look he would have expected from one of his friends, but not from the nicest man in fandom. “Nick Coyle, even nanotechnology can not create a violin small enough to play for you right now.” He shook his head. “Honestly, if you want to discuss this, you should probably talk to Cat. As a married woman, she’s relatively settled down now, but she went to art school for four years and, when she turns on the charm, she could seduce a statue of Saint Cecilia herself and get her guardian angel to join in. Her surviving to meet me was one of the small miracles that led to my current situation. If anyone knows about testing their theoretical limits, it would be my wife.”

“Maybe I’ll do that,” said Nick. He wondered if any man had ever praised his wife’s promiscuity so fulsomely before. “We should get to the meeting.”

In the conference room, Nick introduced Tanvi and let her run the meeting from the agenda. It was much more orderly than Monday’s meeting. Just as Hall started explaining his idea for the first project, there was a knock on the conference room door. Nadia, who’d been working reception poked her head in. “Nick, I’m sorry to interrupt, but Threnody Ferrari-Stone’s factotum is on the phone asking for you.”

Nick was happy to escape having to listen to Hall and his oldest friends discussing whether his magnum opus ludum was worth sharing with the world. He wasn’t sure if it would be worse to hear them say it wasn’t or that it was.

He picked up the phone at the reception desk. “Nick Coyle.”

“Mr. Coyle, I am Gao Fenfang. I serve at the pleasure of your cousin Threnody Ferrari-Stone,” said a cultured, exotic woman’s voice.

‘What can I do for you, Ms. Fenfang?” Nick asked.

“I am just Fenfang or Miss Gao if you prefer,” the woman corrected him. “I wish to convey a request from my patron, Miss Ferrari-Stone.”

“What can I do for your patron, then?” Nick was amused by the oddly formal language and the curious, lilting accent. He thought Tanvi had just told him that SSCS trained all their people to sound the same.

“Miss Ferrari-Stone would consider it a personal favor if you would withdraw from your agreement to rent half of the Palazzo di Sette Sogni next month,” said Fenfang.

“Why?” Nick asked, puzzled.

“My patron has not asked me to convey her reasons to you,” said Fenfang. “Only to request that you do her this favor.”

Nick went from puzzled to annoyed. “I’ve already agreed to rent the palazzo. If there’s no reason, I’m not just going to back out.”

“You refuse my patron’s request?” There was no inflection in Fenfang’s voice.

“I do,” said Nick. “If my cousin wants me to back out, she can tell me her reasons and I’ll reconsider. I’m already renting it as a favor to one cousin. I’m not going to back out to please another one.”

“I will convey your refusal to my patron,” said Fenfang. “Please do not discuss this request with Miss Abdul-Stone.”

Now, Nick was really annoyed. “Again, no. If your patron is trying to mess with my friend, she should know about it.”

“My...”

Nick hung up the phone.

Nadia’s eyes, already wide, got wider. “Did you just hang up on Threnody Ferrari-Stone?”

“No. I hung up on Fenfang, her factotum,” said Nick. “Why?”

“You may want to discuss the possible ramifications with Tanvi,” said Nadia. “Threnody is a very rich and powerful woman.”

“I’m a very rich man,” Nick reminded her.

“She’s richer,” said Nadia.

“I’ll talk to Tanvi, but I’m not going to let the Stone family push me around just because some of them have more zeroes in their bank account than I do,” said Nick. “How are you settling in, Nadia?”

“It’s been very easy so far.” Nadia shifted gears on a dime, a broad smile replacing her worried and faintly incredulous look. “We don’t get very many visitors or calls.”

“Hopefully, that will change soon,” Nick glanced towards the conference room. “Have you worked with Tanvi before?”

“I haven’t, but I know her by reputation. Short of hiring a factotum, I don’t think you could find a better PA,” said Nadia. “Are you ... avoiding going back to your meeting?”

Nick laughed. “You caught me. They’re discussing something it would be better for everyone involved I not be in there for. I’m going to run across the street and grab myself a cup of coffee. Can I get you anything?”

“I could do that,” Nadia said.

“You could, but then I’d just obviously be standing out here avoiding going back in the meeting,” said Nick reasonably. “I’m killing time. Coffee?”

“Tea please, then,” Nadia gave Nick another broad smile. “One sugar.”

As he ran to the coffee cart, Nick mused on how attractive his new receptionist was - not that he planned on pursuing anything with her, but Nadia was the kind of woman he wouldn’t have dreamed of approaching before he found out he was a very rich man. She was a beautiful, young Russian woman with a generous mouth painted a sexy shade of red, slightly tousled tawny, blonde hair, and an air of wildness just below a thin layer of absolute professionalism. Everyone SSCS had sent him was beautiful - men and women both. Every member of the Stone family he’d met was either beautiful or at least unusually attractive. It might just be that Jazz knew the most attractive people, but it still seemed like he’d discovered an unusually deep seam of comeliness among the New York Stones and their retainers. Maybe he’d meet some plain-looking ones once he got to Montana.