I hold Erik’s glass and slap at his hand as he tries to take it again. Though we managed to score two rooms, we haven’t managed to shake Erik for dinner, and if a higher power exists, I pray with every fiber in my body that we’ll be able to eighty-six him at the end of the meal.
I order a black coffee for Erik and work on his scotch.
“Here’s a fine offer, Brinn. If you’re willing, I’d like to put you on retainer,” Erik says, his words starting to run together.
“Retainer?” Brinn takes the scotch from me and swallows a large gulp. “Why would I want that?”
Erik laughs and I now know why it makes Brinn crazy. The poor guy’s laugh is one of those monosyllabic sounds that’s high pitched and repeats, much like a braying jackass.
“You and I are alike. For guys like us it’s about making money. You want that as much as I do. I can tell. I’m intuitive like that.” Slapping Brinn on the back, he says, “If I buy a plane you can be my on-call pilot.” Erik sits back and glares at the coffee.
“That’s a huge expense.” Brinn holds up his hand as Erik begins to bluster. “I’m not saying you can’t afford it, but the administration commitment is as big as the financial one.”
“Just where does your money come from?” I ask.
“Real estate mostly.” He gestures to himself and inadvertently pokes his own eye. “I’ve a good eye for land.”
“Just not what to use it for,” I say and Brinn chuckles.
“Tell the truth, you inherited some of it, right?” Brinn asks.
Erik shakes his head and reaches out, pulling his coffee toward him. He leans forward to meet this cup, lips pursed, head bobbing every so often. After an audible slurp he says, “Nah, my mom passed when I was in college. Left me a tiny life insurance policy.” He holds his thumb and fingers up to show us what his version of tiny looks like. “I bought and renovated my first apartment building and built it from there. About my offer. Interested in working for me? Being my on-call pilot?” he asks with the one eye closed.
“I have a pretty tight schedule with the school and teaching, so it’s unlikely that arrangement would work. And the chances of me purposefully nose-diving out of the sky to put us both out of our misery is pretty high.”
“Well, there is that.” I laugh.
“I’m not miserable,” Erik counters and slurps his coffee.
Brinn and I catch each other’s eyes and laugh again. Poor suck.
Erik leans over his coffee, tucking his head in the palms of his hands, and sighs heavily. “There’s got to be a better way to fly. A different option. Not all charters work within my time constraints and there’s nothing out there that fills the void.”
For a drunken guy, he’s pretty coherent even if he is slurring. Makes me wonder how he spent his college days, probably at one of those fraternities that spent more time with bongs, hazing, and tossing back shots during beer pong competitions than on academics.
“You need a company similar to charters but with a fleet large enough that it supports last-minute flights. Like fractional ownership, there are several companies that offer it.” Brinn pushes away his plate.
“Yeah but I’ve looked into them, for me that’s not smart money. The taxes alone turn me off. I’ve figured it out.” He taps his head. “You’re smart, start up something that does what I need and I’m in. I’d invest in that like this.” He tries to snap but his fingers slide more than they collide. Erik’s chin drops onto his chest, and he looks moments from checking out.
“I imagine you want something more along the lines of a turbo prop or business jet, not a single engine, with the expediency of online scheduling and flexibility.”
Erik points a weaving hand toward Brinn. “Precisely,” he says following it up with a hiccup.
“Can’t have it. There’ll always be a compromise. You need to decide which you want more, the convenience of short notification scheduling or a luxurious plane. You can’t have both all the time.”
Erik nods, presumably digesting the information. “I think I’d give up the type of ’craft. As long as it’s relatively comfortable.” He slides toward me and I push him back upright.
“To tell you the truth, I like the idea of a hybrid like that. But man are they risky. Sure, it sounds good on paper, but it’s impossible to get good estimates on profit because the market is unknown,” Brinn says mostly to himself.
Typical Brinn. He prefers low risk or none at all. What will it take to free him from the unyielding belief that Mark’s business is the end all? Other companies call for him constantly, the University wants him on staff, and Erik is all but offering Brinn his wallet.
“I can name ten guys willing to take that risk and invest,” Erik says with fluttery eyes. “I had a college roomie that’s a math genius and I can get him to run the numbers. His ability for predict—” Erik’s head slumps forward and jerks back up, and he sways in his seat. “—shon, predishing is bar none.”
“Prediction,” I say.
“Yes, that.” He stares down the length of the single finger he’s pointing at me. “Predishing.”
“Come on, big guy. Time to go home.” Brinn hands me the business credit card. “Pay the check and meet me in the lobby, please.” He pulls Erik up under his arms and steadies him on his feet.
“What are you gonna do with him?”
“He lives in town and he has a driver with a car waiting outside. I’m gonna toss him in it and slam the door.”
“Good luck with that,” I say and flag down our waitress.
“These shoes hurt my feet,” I hear Erik say as Brinn nearly carries him out of the restaurant.
“You should try them with socks,” Brinn says and I laugh out loud.
I pay the check and wander into the lobby. It’s overrun with people in various degrees of martial arts uniforms and it makes me think of my short time in Dallas. Which, funny enough, seems like a lifetime ago even though it was only two years. The person I was when I arrived there, scared yet excited to reinvent myself, has morphed into what I hope is a more steady, balanced person who’s trying to grab life by the balls.
If I think about where I am with Will, I’ll cry.
I search the lobby for Brinn and catch his eye as he walks toward me. He winks and his smile opens up, pulling me toward him.
“How’d it go?” I ask, stepping into his space.
“He kept offering me a job. Raising the wage every few minutes. As if it were that easy or I’d work for him.” He rubs a hand down my arm and slides it around my waist.
“He’s certainly annoying but he’s okay. There are worse guys to invest with. Erik is still trying to figure out who he is. I should let Jayne get her hands on him; she’d burn his clothes and love every minute of it. In fact, I’ll do that. Are we seeing him again tomorrow?”
“Unfortunately. You’d do business with him?” He pulls me closer and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Yeah, you wouldn’t? He’s proven he’s skilled with making money. That thing you said about the online scheduling sounds amazing. It’s not like things with Mark are going anywhere.” I remember the days my father would storm around grousing about the ineptness of charters. Enough so that he eventually bought a company jet. Erik’s frustrations are not isolated to him.