Chương 57: Chapter 52: An Invitation in Spades

Jack waited at the tea house alone, two days after his meeting with his new partners. The deal had been necessary, but it still bothered him. Working with Saint was one thing. In the end, he had shown his true colors. He had even protected him. But this felt like a film he could not quite scrub clean. He was alone because the team had decided it was the better choice, not because he had. He had learned his lesson about keeping his friends in the dark for their own safety. Seraphine had driven the decision.

The others argued that safety in numbers mattered, that together they were stronger, but she disagreed and eventually won them over.

"He could have made your relationship known," she said.

"He didn't. He could have reached out after. He didn't do that either. He was prepared with the note. He wants something. More accurately, he wants you to do something."

"How can you be sure he isn't walking Jack into a knife, Sera?" Aldric warned.

"He gave Jack time to prepare, to speak with us. If he wanted Jack hurt, he could have arranged it before the warehouse meeting." Jack agreed, but Kael pushed back.

"What if he didn't have time?"

"People like the cabal Jack met with don't rush," Seraphine said.

"They don't move without precautions. He knew this was coming and had time to prepare. And he did. It wasn't with a knife. It was with the note."

"She's right," Jack said, finally interjecting. He had been ready for either outcome until now.

"Sera's been playing this kind of cat-and-mouse game longer than any of us. It's time to trust her." So he sat alone. Harris arrived without ceremony. He acknowledged Jack with a nod and took his seat.

"Thank you for meeting with me, Lord Breakwater."

"Jack is fine," Jack said, and, as he thought about it, added, "Breakwater works too." Harris nodded again and waited in silence as tea was served. While they waited, Jack watched him closely. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. He had met three distinct versions of Harris since their first encounter. The mousy accountant, anxious and deferential. The guild fixer, dangerous, exacting, controlled.

And finally, the puppet master, cold and calculating, pulling the strings of an entire organized cabal with multiple leaders, each with their own unique agenda. Jack was curious which one would appear tonight. After thanking the waitress and taking his first sip, Harris relaxed. His shoulders eased. His face softened. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. With the exhale of a man long accustomed to pressure, he spoke.

"I am not used to being able to let my guard down," he said.

"For that, I want to thank you." Jack nodded, unsure where this was heading.

"I imagine you have a great many questions," Harris continued.

"I can promise you two things. First, by the end of tonight, you will have more. Second, I will answer all of them as honestly as I am able." Of all the ways Harris could have begun, Jack had not expected this.

"Which do you want to start with?" Harris asked. Jack answered without hesitation.

"Who are you?"

"I hoped you would start there," Harris said.

"If you are as quick and observant as I believe, it will answer many other questions." He took another sip of tea before continuing. When he spoke again, it was with the weight of someone who had held too many secrets for too long, with no one to share them with. Jack had felt similar until a few months ago.

"To the public, I am Harris Wexler, a fixer for the Draymoore family. The name changes, but the role does not. To the underworld, I am Harris Norton, the man who can fix anything." He paused.

"The truth is, my full name is Harrison Daniel Draymoore the Third." The implications landed like a stone. It was not a double life. It was a triple.

"Outside the upper echelons of my family," Harris said, "you are the only outsider who knows my true face." Jack heard the danger in that statement immediately.

"Why me?"

"Do you remember what I told you when we concluded our first exchange?" Jack felt the weight of the moment as he answered.

"There would be more work," Jack said.

"Work where hesitation gets people killed."

"I also told you that you were a friend of House Draymoore," Harris said.

"Neither of those statements has changed."

"Acquaintance," Jack said.

"You said acquaintance." Harris smiled and nodded.

"I did. After tonight, I hope we can say friend." As the conversation progressed, the tension bled out of Harris. He grew more comfortable, more present. Whether this was his true self or another mask, Jack could not yet tell. He pressed him, hoping to find a flaw in his armor or a chink in his logic, but he couldn't. As far as he could tell, all the details being shared, both his goals and his ambitions, were airtight.

Either this was the most compelling lie he had ever heard, or this man had bared himself for the first time. He even shared with Jack the pain and tribulations that came with his complex life, which prompted his next question.

"Why the three personas?" Jack asked.

"Necessity," Harris replied.

"Certain doors would never open if people knew how tightly I am bound to my family."

"And why does House Draymoore need a shadow arm?" Jack asked.

"What is their goal?"

"Ultimately, stability," Harris said.

"For the city and for future generations. Beyond that, I cannot say."

"Why not?" Jack pressed.

"Why reveal this much and still stop short?"

"Because it is not my place." Harris set his cup down.

"Which brings me to why I asked you here. First, to establish trust in the only way that allows us to move forward." Jack inclined his head in agreement.

"And the other?"

"An invitation," Harris said.

"To House Draymoore."