He wasn't sure which thing to address first. It struck him that Lasha was probably trying to throw him off balance, in the way that Lasha did.
He lowered his gaze to take a sip of cognac.
"Don't want to get married," he said, finally. It was the thing he felt most definitively about. "Women are too much trouble. It's bad enough I have sisters."
His lip twisted.
Taras knew he would have said the same thing six months ago, and he would say it six months from now. He thought that some things had changed for him, but that, he knew, would not.
As far as Taras was concerned, it was more manly not to be married.
"And Anya...no. I don't want her. She disrespected you, Lasha. I can't act like that's okei with me. I'm on your side, not hers. And anyway, if I keep her, it sends the wrong message."
He shrugged dismissively, then resolved not to think of it anymore. It was what it was.
"If a man had hit you, I would have broken his fucking face," he added. "So she's lucky to get off with only being fired. Or if you want to keep her around because you think she knows too much, there's probably something else she can do. Maybe organize files in the basement."
He grabbed the cognac bottle and poured them both another hit. They were starting to make a good dent in it.
Taras fell silent for a while, considering the last. He could feel Lasha's gaze on him.
Ilarion was watching him with coolly appraising eyes, waiting for his response.
"We should have a good secretary," he said, slowly. "A polite one. Not one that's old or something. One that knows his place. And not some arrogant prick who thinks he's better than shit."
It would be something like having a bitch, he decided.
At least, borrowing a comrade's.
At first he had thought of Barshai that way, since Lasha obviously did. But Barshai had surprised Taras with the things he said, and now he was more like a friend.
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Date: 2009-08-12 06:14 pm (UTC)He wasn't sure which thing to address first. It struck him that Lasha was probably trying to throw him off balance, in the way that Lasha did.
He lowered his gaze to take a sip of cognac.
"Don't want to get married," he said, finally. It was the thing he felt most definitively about. "Women are too much trouble. It's bad enough I have sisters."
His lip twisted.
Taras knew he would have said the same thing six months ago, and he would say it six months from now. He thought that some things had changed for him, but that, he knew, would not.
As far as Taras was concerned, it was more manly not to be married.
"And Anya...no. I don't want her. She disrespected you, Lasha. I can't act like that's okei with me. I'm on your side, not hers. And anyway, if I keep her, it sends the wrong message."
He shrugged dismissively, then resolved not to think of it anymore. It was what it was.
"If a man had hit you, I would have broken his fucking face," he added. "So she's lucky to get off with only being fired. Or if you want to keep her around because you think she knows too much, there's probably something else she can do. Maybe organize files in the basement."
He grabbed the cognac bottle and poured them both another hit. They were starting to make a good dent in it.
Taras fell silent for a while, considering the last. He could feel Lasha's gaze on him.
Ilarion was watching him with coolly appraising eyes, waiting for his response.
"We should have a good secretary," he said, slowly. "A polite one. Not one that's old or something. One that knows his place. And not some arrogant prick who thinks he's better than shit."
It would be something like having a bitch, he decided.
At least, borrowing a comrade's.
At first he had thought of Barshai that way, since Lasha obviously did. But Barshai had surprised Taras with the things he said, and now he was more like a friend.
He paused.
"One that doesn't complain," he added.