Chapter Twelve
Ishmael
Ishmael took careful note of the way his pet watched the door, sizing up the distance and obstacles between himself and the open door.
Good. His fear of me has not gotten in the way of his sense of self-preservation. For now, that means looking for a way to escape my clutches, but in future, it will serve him in good stead.
Escape from Ishmael was impossible, of course. No one got away unless he wanted them to.
“The kitchen sent up a meal honouring your beloved’s roots,” Ollie said, pushing in a food service cart. “Pork adobo, lumpia, rice, and coconut pudding.”
“Maja blanca,” Kris breathed as the contents of the cart were arranged on the desk.
Ishmael looked down into his face. “You like it?”
Kris nodded, the glint of tears making his eyes shine. “My mom…” he choked out.
Ishmael picked up a fork. “Well, let’s see if my chef’s is as good as your mother’s.” He offered a forkful of adobo to Kris. Kris hesitated for only a split second before closing his mouth carefully around the proffered food, taking his time to chew it thoughtfully. He nodded.
“It’s pretty close,” he said.
Ollie smiled. “I’ll let them know,” he said, turning on his heel to leave.
Ishmael took a bite. As the flavours burst over his tongue, he decided that it was, indeed, delicious. He tasted the lumpia next.
Yes, they can add these to our lunch menu’s specials of the day rotation.
He continued eating, only pausing between his own bites to feed Kris. It was soon gone. Ishmael buzzed for the empty dishes to be carried away. Ollie placed them on the cart and wheeled it back out after Ishmael relayed his decision about the offerings.
“I’ll let them know right away,” Ollie promised.
Ishmael was pleased. The trio would do well as a set meal. As the door closed, Ishmael returned his attention to the stacks of paper Kris had made. He reached out a hand. “The applications you feel have merit for management consideration,” he said. Kris handed him the short stack of three. He placed them in his outbox after clipping them together with a sticky note affixed to the topmost one. Ollie would pass them onto Jamal, who would do a thorough background check. “And for wait staff?” He was pleased to see this was a more significant number. He clipped those together as well and placed another sticky on the topmost application, denoting what this set was for. This sheaf also went into his outbox. “Place the others in the circular file,” he said, dismissively.
Kris gaped at him. “Both sets?”
“Yes.”
“But why have me-”
“Do not question me,” Ishmael told him sharply. Kris’ mouth snapped shut, the protest dying on his lips before he could finish it. The boy did not need to know he had been given a distraction to prevent him from listening too deeply to the calls Ishmael had made.
Ishmael stood. Kris could use more rest. His lack of sleep and the morning’s turmoil had placed shadows under his eyes and more than once he’d noticed Kris suppressing a yawn and jerking himself into wakefulness as he fought off the call of sleep. That wouldn’t do. Ishmael stood and walked to the small fridge at the end of his drinks cabinet. He pulled out a can of Sprite and popped the tab, deftly dropping the pill he’d placed in his pocket earlier. His instincts had been right, he was going to need Kris to take it before he’d succumb to sleep. He sat the open soda on the top of his drinks cabinet and took out a glass for himself, which he filled with cucumber infused water from the fridge. After putting a bamboo straw in, he passed the opened soda to Kris.
Kris accepted it, looking surprised at his act of kindness. “Thank you,” he said softly, taking a long sip.
Ishmael smiled at him. “You’re welcome,” he said.A few more sips like that and he’ll be out like a light.“I have more paperwork to attend to. Would you like a book to read?”
Kris looked surprised at his question. “Don’t I need to sign some stuff?”
“Tomorrow, when we meet with my barrister.”
“Oh.” Kris took another long slurp through the straw. “I had a book I was reading on my phone, on the plane,” he said, “though I guess me having my phone is out of the question.”
It was, but it wasn’t an insurmountable task to get Kris a copy he could read. He pressed the intercom button and asked Ollie to obtain a copy.
“It was an indie title,” Kris said. “Ebook only. I was reading it as part of my KU subscription.”
Ishmael didn’t respond. Kris would find out momentarily just how proficient his staff was at obtaining whatever he asked of them, in very little time. He retook his seat at the desk and began working through the paperwork in his inbox. One item, in particular, held his interest especially.
