CHAPTER 03 / HIGH COAST OCEAN 01
The next morning began later than Hykarl had planned, which made it the first successful decision of the trip.
Tanya had found a little coastal guesthouse. It was called High Coast. There was a bakery downstairs, a small pool in the courtyard and a reading room that opened toward the sea.
We need a company structure.
We need to ask whether the room is available.
Structure first.
Fine. You ask. She answers. Strong structure.
He stood at the table with the confidence of a man who had recently located socks.
DCB Productions is the building name. Akal Jentera is the house. Synthetic Lab is the engine—
You promised a weekend without the engine room.
Right. People. Tea. Sea.
That company I would join.
And Sexy Sherlock.
Which is?
Me.
Your name is Hykarl Sufardi.
Also me.
Fake Sherlock is the method. Sexy Sherlock is the joke.
The joke is doing very well visually.
The joke is wearing two different socks.
He looked down. One sock was navy. The other was black. In the dim room, it had been a reasonable delegation to optimism.
Contrast.
Come here.
She turned his collar down. His entire management philosophy left his face for half a second.
There. Now you can mislead people in daylight.
Can we define what we're doing before you flirt with the organizational chart?
A reading. A little exhibition. The cards. A book. Something people can touch.
Good. That's an actual answer.
Who's doing what?
I'll read the notices and keep the guest information clear.
Money. Transport. Preventing him from buying a second sea.
Hosting. Flowers. Looking excellent during other people's preventable problems.
Editing. Also saying no where a sentence has tried to become a cathedral.
Venue and practical arrangements.
Book assembly.
I'll be the conductor.
No baton.
Why?
We have to fit in the car.
Miss Q arrived with a violet bag and a pair of shoes held by their straps.
Am I late?
He's only on the first company.
Lovely. I'll make tea.
She went straight into the kitchen. Alfred looked at the spare chair, then at his list.
Have we confirmed you're joining us?
From the kitchen came the sound of a cup being placed on the counter.
I'm here.
Yes, but formally—
Alfie.
Right. Chair occupied. Understood.
Sometimes the woman is stronger evidence than the seating plan.
Hykarl studied the group. For a moment, he saw a proper office: capable people, clear desks, a large serious man in a serious suit telling other people what to do.
Then V stole a biscuit and Zara stole his cap, and the office became useful again.
I watched The Office last night.
We can tell. You've asked three people to look at the camera. There isn't one.
Charles has discipline.
So does a fridge. Nobody wants to report to it.
Michael has people.
Then let people do things.
He didn't manufacture paper.
You don't need to manufacture paper to publish a book.
You do need to read the book.
And occasionally stop telling the paper how lucky it is.
Hykarl sat down.
All right. What do you need from me?
There was a small silence. It wasn't an awkward silence. It was the nice sort that arrives when someone finally opens the correct door.
Call the guesthouse.
Give me a spending limit.
Pick the story you actually want to tell.
Find matching socks.
Keep the collar like that.
Miss Q returned with tea.
And drink this while it still knows it's tea.
He took the cup.
I like this office.
You work here now. Try not to spoil it.