"What unique talents?" I asked, frustrated. While Jordan's papers may have fooled a customs official in Paris, they obviously were not as foolproof as I thought. Or else this man, Al, had connections with some of the very same people that I worked with. Either way, it pissed me off. “I’m just a Romani vineyard owner."
"You’re the son of Guillaume Hardy, the Mist," the man replied, using my father's nickname. "You and your brother are also following in his footsteps. Although that job in Los Angeles didn’t go as smoothly as expected, did it?"
"What do you want?" Francois spat. “Just get to it already.“
The man nodded, relaxed and as cool as a cucumber. He reached inside the long coat he was wearing and pulled out a disc.
"Technical specifications and data on your target, as well as what we know of the security involved. You have one week to decide, Mr. Hardy. If you agree to our terms, there’s an encrypted e-mail that you may contact. Good day, Mr. Hardy."
The man and his bodyguard left, their car raising dust in the yard. I looked at the data disc in my hand, then at Francois and the three women. "Let's go inside," I said, the pain in my ankle returning. "It seems we have some research to look over, as well as songs to plan out."
"Songs? What do you mean songs?" Jordan asked. "You seriously expect me to want to play guitar after that?”
I smiled and kissed her on the temple. "It is times like this, Jordan, that music and celebration are more important than ever. Why do you think the Romani are such a musical people? We've been handling things like this for thousands of years. We play music when we’re happy, when we’re sad, and when we’re angry. The time to worry is when the music stops."
Chapter 20
Jordan
Despite Francois's teasing, Felix was a decent violin player, and I enjoyed the evening even with my worries. Felix was right, losing myself in the music was exactly what I needed, and it allowed me to, at least for the evening, set it all aside. Combined with the wonderful cooking, it was a good evening.
The next day, Francois and Felix shut themselves off in the barn, taking Felix's computer with them. “We need to talk for a bit," Francois told me gently. “We’ll be out for lunch.”
Unfortunately, that left me with a lot of time on my hands, and not much to do. Fortunately though, Charani agreed to show me around. She grabbed gloves and pruning shears for us. "Let me show you the vineyard."
We walked along between the rows, Charani occasionally snipping at a late weed or a branch that was astray. I tried to keep up, but the fact was, I knew nothing about grape vines, and I didn't know if what I was looking at was part of the vine or a weed or what. "You enjoy it here?"
"I do. There’s much still to learn, but I’m trying," I said. "It’s worrisome, knowing what Felix and Francois are planning."
“Isn’t that the truth. They’re good at what they do, but I still worry. They are always in conflict whenever they plan. I was hoping that they wouldn’t have to do this for a long time. Enough time that your influence would bring peace between them.”
"Why are they in conflict?" I asked. "I've noticed sometimes that Francois likes to needle Felix."
“He doesn’t like being reminded that he’s the lesser, twice removed," Charani said, pain evident in her voice. "For a long time, I was the same way."
“What do you mean lesser,” I asked.
She snipped away another twig of grapevine and sighed. "Do you know what my birthday is?"
"No, I’m sorry.” I became very quiet, feeling deep in my gut that whatever Charani was about to tell me, it was of vital importance to my understanding the situation I was now in.
She pointed at a spot on the grape vine, and I pulled out a weed while she continued. "My birthday is January first. I was born at twelve twenty-seven in the morning. Syeira, on the other hand, her birthday is December thirty-first. She was born at eleven fifty-three at night."
"Just like Francois and Felix," I remarked. "But, how does that make them fight?"
Charani chuckled. "You see, by our tribe's law, I was second to my sister. Even in our names. Hers means 'Princess,' mine means 'Phoenix,' as in rising from the ashes of defeat, as if the order of our birth was somehow a fight that she won. Growing up, our father was much more loving and permissive to her than I. Syeira, for her part, didn’t lord it over me, but still I grew up with a certain amount of resentment of my sister. It was Guillaume's love that healed that wound in my heart."
"And you think that Francois feels the same way toward Felix?"
Charani nodded. "My father, he continued his treatment when our sons were born. Francois was not only the second born in his generation, but the child of a second born. To Guillaume's credit, he never treated Francois inferior."
“Now that you say it, I don’t know if they see it that way. From what they told me, their father held Felix to a higher standard,” I said.
Charani thought, then nodded. "Perhaps you’re right."
I thought about it. “They do seem to work well together, though."
She shrugged. "They compliment each other, that’s for sure. Tell me, do you have a problem with what they do?”