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I spend the rest of the day cleaning and unpacking. By the time I eventually crawl into bed, I’m so bone tired I fall into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter 6

Jordan

“Any other business?” I ask, itching to end the meeting.

The bi-monthly senior executive meeting which I’m chairing today, has gone on longer than the usual ninety minutes. The other managing partners Ethan Hawthorne and Mike Waldrow, the company secretary Jane Smith, the head of administration Frank Bo, and Sajid, our lead tech guy are seated around the large, circular table in the Acercraft conference room.

I roll my neck trying to relieve the tension that seems to re-settle there every few hours no matter what I do. And I know exactly why it's there.Fuck. I need to work out. Again.

“Oh yes. The artwork was a great idea, with generally positive feedback from staff,” Frank says, “and we’ve been getting a lot of compliments from clients as well.”

“Yes, they’re absolutely stunning Jordan, great eye.” Jane agrees.

I incline my head to them in a silent ‘thanks’.

“It’s not a completely shit idea, I suppose,” Mike admits grudgingly, peering at the large, photographic piece taking up a sizeable chunk of the east wall, which is enhanced with backlighting. “I thought you were talking gibberish when you suggested adding an element of art to the workspace, but I tell you, it does have a subtle impact on the psyche.”

The photo in question which Grant calls ‘Enthusiasm’, is an underwater shot of a massive, rolling ocean current, evoking a mix of clarity in the clear depths and excitement in its effervescent bubbles.

“You were just slow to catch the vision, Mike,” I reply. “You should have known better when Ethan backed the idea a hundred percent. Kid brother or not, you know Ethan would never approve of spending an extra cent on anything frivolous.” Ethan’s specialty is keeping efficiency high and costs low.

"That's true, the fucker keeps our purses tighter than a nun's snatch," Mike says, ignoring Jane's deep scowl.

We had agreed to clean up our language around the office after the workshop Jane forced us all to attend because apparently, we were turning the boardroom into some sweaty, boys’ locker room.

“Hey I’m right here jackasses—guys,” Ethan complains.

“No, I see your point now, it does affect the morale” Mike continues as if Ethan hasn't spoken. “I for one, certainly felt the adrenaline surge while we were negotiating that deal with Vitali & Co. today. I dare say those boys were properly put in their place.”

“Now, now Mike. Don’t go blaming your bulldog tendencies on the artwork,” I gently chide, also catching how Ethan’s lips twitch with suppressed laughter.

Mike can be borderline aggressive in the boardroom, although he manages to negotiate insane deals. Without him, we’d probably have double our overhead costs no matter how much Ethan huffed or puffed. That doesn’t mean we don’t give him shit for it.

“Bulldog?” Ethan takes off his spectacles and calmly wipes them with a small, white microfibre cloth. “Nah Jordan. I’d reckon he was more like a foaming, distempered rottweiler."

"With rabies," I agree.

Ethan and I burst into rowdy laughter.

“Fuck off assholes,” Mike growls.

Jane clears her throat. Which only makes us laugh harder until Mike could no longer resist joining in. No one else dared to trigger the wrath of Mike Waldrow or Jane for that matter, so everyone else in the room try to keep their faces straight.

Eventually, we contain our mirth. “Right, if there’s no other business, I’m sure we’d all like to get back to work.”

Class dismissed, we each head out. I notice Ethan hot on my tail, rather than going the opposite way to his office, but I don't break my stride.

“Jordan are you alright?” he asks when he catches up to me. I don't respond but only nod to my secretary as we cross the private reception area into my main office. “Hold my calls as usual will you Danny?”

“Sure thing Mr. Farrington.” He replies.

As soon as I get into my office, I shrug off my jacket and attack my tie.

Then I start to unbutton my shirt.

“Whoa.” Ethan holds out his hand. “What the fuck bro?”

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