The elevator again opened into the grand white gallery on the 66th floor.
"Ah . . .so good to see you again Mr. Foster. Homosoto-San is anxious to see you." A short Japanese manservant escorted Miles to the doors of Homosoto's office. The briefest of taps invited the bellow of "Hai!" from its inner sanctum.
Homosoto was quick to rise from his techo-throne and greeted
Miles as if they were long lost friends.
"Mr. Foster . . .it is so good to see you. I assume everything was satisfactory? You found the working conditions to your liking?" Homosoto awkwardly searched for the vain compliment. He pointed at the leather seating area in which they had first discussed their plans. They sat in the same chairs they had the last time they met.
Miles was taken aback by the warm reception, but since he was so important to Homosoto, it was only fitting to be treated with respect.
Miles returned the courtesy with the minimum required bow of the head. It was a profitable game worth playing. "Very much so, Mr. Homosoto. It was most relaxing . . .and I think you will be very pleased with the results." Miles smiled warmly, expecting to be heavily complimented on his promise. Instead, Homosoto ignored the business issue.
"I understand that Miss Marasee was most pleased . . .was she not?" The implication was clear. For the first time, Miles saw a glimmer of a dirty old man looking for the sordid details.
"I guess so. I was too busy working to pay attention." Miles tried to sluff off the comment.
"That is what she says. That you were too busy for her . . .or to say goodbye and thank her for her attentions. Not an auspi- cious beginning Mr. Foster." Miles caught the derision in Homo- soto's voice and didn't appreciate it one little bit.
"Listen. My affairs are my affairs. I am grateful for the services, but I do like to keep my personal life just that. Per- sonal." Miles was polite, but firm. Homosoto nodded in under- standing.