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“I just thought that you and the gentleman might be doing some business and I didn’t want to get in the way.”
“Yes, you did,” says Samael. “That’s exactly what you wanted. To stop a business deal.”
“I see. Because he’s in a suit and I’m not, we can’t just be a couple of friends eating donuts,” I say.
Samael looks at me.
“Are we friends, Jimmy?”
“Pipe down, Hugo Boss.”
I look back at Declan.
“You just hurt my feelings.”
“He’s very sensitive,” says Candy. “He might cry.”
“I might cry.”
Declan steps closer to the table. A salesman trying to establish intimacy with the mark.
“Would a million dollars soothe your wounded soul?”
Samael tsks.
“Do you really think a man like this can be bought with money?”
“Hell,” I say. “For a million dollars you can call me Suzy Quatro.”
“You’re breaking my heart, Jimmy.”
“Eat a jelly roll.” Then to Declan, “So what do I have to do for all the tea in China?”
He opens his hands like a preacher invoking the Holy Spirit or asking for a handout.
“Give me something more precious than gold—”
“I think he means me,” says Candy.
“—but that you have no use for.”
Candy does a mock frown.
“Now he’s hurt my feelings.”
“Does this thing have a name?” I ask.
Declan speaks quietly. Suddenly serious.
“Come now, Mr. Stark. We both know what I’m talking about.”
“No. We don’t.”
Samael sighs.
“He means the Qomrama Om Ya.”
“Is that right?”
