“Yeah, whatever,” Melissa said, waving a dismissive hand at me. “I guess you can figure out peanut butter and jelly without much trouble.”“You know, as far as I’m concerned, you can trot your ass to McDonald’s,” I replied. “You’re a guest so why don’t you start acting like one?”Melissa stared at me for a moment. My comment had been meant in two ways. First was her behavior at Liz’s home. The second was about the bitching and moaning she had been doing about her role in Liz’s concert.She glared at me again but I was used to the look so I stood impassively and matched her. She broke eye contact and headed outside – followed immediately by her cowed personal assistant (who had spoken exactly five words in my presence all day).“It needed to be said,” I told Liz, going on the offensive before she could give me a ration of shit.“I know,” Liz agreed. “She’s going through some stuff.”“We’re all going through some ‘stuff’,” I countered. “You, me, the rest of the world. It doesn’t give us. You'll meet my brother, and we may both get what we want."The tall captain looked at his brothers, and they nodded. Then he looked at the older sister."Let's talk about it," she said.To Arnulf's surprise, it was the tall woman, Katherine, who did most of the haggling and who found weak spots in the contract, time after time. Arnulf quickly came to respect her; she was smarter than most men he had ever met.Only when Arnulf saw the names on the parchment of the contract, did he make the connection."Joerg Isebrand? The Joerg Isebrand, son of Wulf? They gave you a nasty byname in Warnesund, didn't they?"Briefly, Arnulf saw annoyance flit over the tall man's face, but then he shrugged."It's how I deal with neidings," he said.Arnulf chuckled."Oh, I didn't mean to judge you. I heard the story from several people, among them the old Count of Schwerin. Have you ever met him?" No, I thought it wiser to stay away from the North," Isebrand answered with equanimity. "Enough of past things. When.
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