Robert Asprin's Dragons Run by Jody Lynn Nye Page B

annoyed looks they shot her, expressions that vanished immediately when Henry frowned. Her, they feared. Him, they respected.
    “Everyone!” Henry snapped. “Please give Miss Valerie a quick progress report, then you can get back to work. Vilus, kitchens, please.”
    A tall, thin black man in chef’s whites with a gold kerchief tied around his neck cleared his throat.
    “Got some nice pompano in this morning. Had to compost about twenty pounds of potatoes because they were going green. That’s okay. I’ve got dehydrated potatoes in the pantry, and I gave Marcella the order for fresh spuds for Friday’s dinner party. The menu’s on a disk if you want to check it over.”
    What dinner party?
Val wondered, but Marcella, a sharp-eyed, round-faced woman in a tight suit-dress, took up the narrative without expanding on Vilus’s statement.
    “The two Spode plates are back from the china restorer, so the set’s complete again,” she said. “Nothing else to report.”
    “Good,” Val said, since that seemed to be what the staff was waiting for. One after another, they gave their brief statements in noncommittal voices, the import of which went right over her head. She smiled and nodded, trying to sound encouraging. As soon as the last person, a Hispanic-looking gardener named Juan Pablo, named off the tulips that were sending up shoots along the front drive, the crowd seemed to explode outward. Val didn’t have time to say “Thank you,” or “Dismissed,” before the room was empty. A vacuum cleaner started up in the hallway next door, and she heard distant clattering and the murmur of voices.
    Henry stepped up alongside her, touching a key on the small computer’s pad. “That went well,” he said. “You should have asked about Agnetta’s baby, but you can do that tomorrow.”
    “What about him?” Val asked, trying to remember who Agnetta was.
    “Her. Lolita Arcadia. Six pounds, four ounces. She was born Monday. Michael told you yesterday. Michael from Housekeeping?” Henry looked exasperated. “He’s subbing for Agnetta while she is on maternity leave. You still have to go to his office to sign the card for her.”
    “I don’t remember all that!”
    “After the briefing, you should have gone back to your room and written notes,” Henry said. “It would look better if you had those facts at your fingertips.”
    “Look, they all know that I’m faking it. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.”
    “You aren’t
faking it
; you’re learning,” Henry said, rolling his eyes. “And, yes, everyone knows you’re new. Now, come on. We have a lot to do today.”
    “What’s next? Posture lessons?”
    “Close,” Henry said, taking her arm again. “Fittings. What on Earth will you wear on Friday? You only have one dress. It’s gorgeous, but it’s just too much for this event. And you need to learn everyone’s name and details so you can make chitchat.”
    Val halted, jerking him back a pace. “Wait a minute. This dinner party? I’m supposed to attend?”
    “Good heavens, no!” Henry chuckled. Val heaved a sigh of relief. “You’re hosting it.”
    She gawked at him.
    “What? No!”
    Henry ignored her protests and towed her away.

Eight
    Even when he spoke to Malcolm, Duvallier kept his eyes fixed on Griffen. Griffen found his scrutiny nerve-wracking, something the old man surely knew. Malcolm was appalled.
    “Mr. Duvallier, you can’t be serious. Penny Dunbar is a bright new light on the political scene.”
    “Never met her,” Duvallier said. He gave an offhand wave. “Maybe never will. And call me Reginaud if you like. I’m gonna call you Malcolm, so let’s be friendly. You, too, Griffen.”
    Griffen shifted uneasily.
    “Uh, thanks.”
    Malcolm frowned. “This country needs leaders, Mr. Duvallier,” he said. “Leaders with a vision for the future.”
    “I know that!” Duvallier laughed. “This ain’t the first dance I been asked to, Malcolm. Just that I also know that if