"Beater," Michael replied. "Yeah, little idjit stole a shrinking potion for the potions professor's stores and drank it. "Seems the headmaster knew exactly where Sam was and what he did, so he and Robert put their heads together, and now Sam is probably about 6 inches tall and sitting in Khaat's dollhouse. So, Robert's solution was simple. He's leaving him that way for awhile. Put him in the dollhouse and gave Sam time to think about his boneheaded plan. If I know Robert, he was very deliberate about not raising his voice so that Sam couldn't deflect responsibility on anyone else but himself, said very little, and basically just provided for him and walked off for awhile."
Kate finished cutting the aromatics as Michael finished trimming and dicing the lamb.
"If you start the sautee, I'll get the potatoes," Michael told her. She got out the skillet and started to sautee the aromatics and the lamb for the hotpot, while Michael started scrubbing and peeling potatoes. "Rowan, if you want to help, start cleaning and shredding brussels, please," Michael told him. "They're in the walk in," he pointed to the fridge. "There are knives on the wall," he pointed to the magnetic knife strip, "or in the knife block, or there's a mandolin on the eye level shelf in the pantry."
Andrew parked Angus's chair on the bank of the pond, and he settled himself on the ground a short distance from Angus. Angus chose a bobber, a sinker, a lure and a hook and put them on his line while Andrew did the same. It didn't take them much time at all, and before long, they had cast out their lines, reeled the line back a little, let go of she spin release to lock the line in place and then settled back, breathed a bit of relief, and listened to the silence around them.
"God, I'm going to miss this place," Andrew sighed. "There isn't one thing here that I don't absolutely love."
"If you ever want to change employers, you could talk to Robert or Brian," Angus said. "We need competent people, you know. Robert would be glad to get rid of an idjit for someone that's competent."
"You don't need a permanent rehab man, though," Andrew sighed.
"You're underestimating your worth. You're a jack of all trades--like me. You could do a hundred different jobs. Robert puts a high value on people with multiple talents. I can promise you that you'd earn more."
"You don't know how much I make."
"Yeah, but I know how much Robert pays," Angus replied. "I write the checks. You could have a log cabin of your own here, travel the world for free and get paid for it. Work at St. Mungos part time if you want, ski for free in Colorado in the winter, have lunch or supper on the Champs Elysees any time you like..."
"Shut up," Andrew scowled at him. "You're tempting the shit out of me."
"I'm just sayin'," Angus said. "And Robert would probably loan you out to Nigel if there was a special rehab need..."
"Stop it," Andrew said laughing.
"Gourmet food, first rate medical care, unlimited adventure..."
"You're a pain in the butt," Andrew laughed. "Alright. You are making a strong argument." Angus got a scratch paid and the stub of a pencil out of the tacklebox and wrote down a money figure and handed it to him.
"I have some power to hire and fire. That's what I could offer you, today, on the spot, without having to ask Robert." Andrew took the paper, looked at it, and he stared back at Angus, stunned.
"You're out of your mind," Andrew said. "Nobody pays that much just for somebody like me."
"With Robert, that's a medium range starting salary. He'd very likely offer you more to start."
"Dear God," Andrew said. He looked at Angus. "You're serious, aren't you?"
"100%," Angus said. He saw Jack outside, but Jack was far enough away that the only way to get Jack's attention was to whistle. He hated to do it, but he really couldn't yell that loud to carry that far. He whistled, hoping Jack would hear and come over.