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What now? He staggered back to the cafe and dropped into the chair opposite India.Picking up his cup, he gulped tepid coffee. He'd never felt so desperate.“What do you want, India?”India finished her tea. She drew a circle in the sugar scattered on the table.“To stay?” Her eyes met his. “Fifty percent.”Simon blinked. He set his cup down unsteadily. A wave of cold coffee splashed out.“Of what? Profit?”Her laugh tinkled like wind chimes in a summer breeze.“With your margins? Fifty percent of revenue, Doctor.”Simon paled to a colour only seen on corpses.“Revenue?” The word came out as though he had two hands around his throat. “I can't.”India laughed again. “Please. I'm not asking for what you can't afford.”“I can't do it, India. Be reasonable.”“Be reasonable? From the man who told me to skip breakfast and lunch? The man who's made a million times what he's paid me from my fucking tits?” India caught her anger and carefully suppressed it like she was screwing shut a bottle of perfume.. ” Finally dressed, we stopped in the kitchen for a glass of water and went out to the shed. Conner and Lisa were wedged together in one of the larger chairs, rattling away on two keyboards looking at two screens and talking a mile a minute. Jill stood behind them, looking over their shoulders. Jennifer and I walked up softly to watch. Jill started as we stepped to either side of her. She looked at my face, then Jennifer's and broke into a big smile. She put an arm around each of us and hugged us as hard as she could. Conner and Lisa suddenly stopped typing and fell silent for a moment. “Is that it?” Asked Conner “I think so,” said Lisa, “and it seems to be stable.” They put the keyboards down and stretched their arms, then turned to each other and kissed while Conner groped Lisa's tits. He must have caught a glimpse of out of the corner of his eye. He kicked the chair around a hundred and eighty degrees with one foot. Hi Jill, James,” he said, “And this must be.
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