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Eventually he grunts and turns away, his body moving to the car rather than keep looking any longer. A breath leaves me the moment he does, my shoulders finally relaxing as I see him slide into the car without another look back. It pulls away within seconds, smoothly gliding out into traffic and away from me.
Another breath falls out of me as it goes, my arms losing their clutched grip, and I watch the car weave traffic into the distance. Strange. I shiver, still not sure what colour those eyes were or what the hell he was suggesting about me being here.
“Mrs Tanner?”
I look sideways at Barney, suddenly noticing the cab waiting for me that’s arrived out of nowhere. “Thank you, Barney,” I murmur, as he opens the door.
Home.
Chapter 6
Gray
Board meetings. They’re not something I’m vaguely absorbed in, but today I need to be here. I gaze at the greyed out, glass walls around me, swivelling back and forth in my chair while I wait and calm myself. I’m anxious, uncomfortable with being here. It’s away from my normal existence, and the others will be here soon, their voices making me listen to other opinions and thoughts.
“Gray?” I level my stare at Harrison, waiting for whatever he’s got to say. “You could just sign the papers and leave. We don’t need you here.”
“You don’t? I thought it was my company.”
“I didn’t mean that. I was simply suggesting that if you would rather be elsewhere then …”
“Shut up, Harrison.”
He looks down at the table, and then eventually gets up and walks to the view rather than acknowledge me other than that. I’m not surprised. I’ve become hard for him to deal with over the years. We were friends once. Golf at the weekends. Business trips. Evenings out at casinos, both of us enjoying the merits of my success. That’s done now. No friends. No existence other than the world I create for myself.
I watch his back, taking in the lines of his wrinkled features in profile. He’s turned into an old man over time. Not quite the hustler he used to be. It’s probably because of the work he does to compensate for me not being out here to do it. I turn my gaze away to look at the glass instead of him. He gets paid well enough for it. Thrives healthily under that fortune I’ve made for him. My concerns don’t lie with any thought he might have of me. They lie with research at home and profit in these walls around me now. That’s it. No kindred spirits any longer. No clinking glasses as the next big deal rolls in.
A bustle of noise begins in the rooms outside, the door handle quickly clicking open soon after. I watch each one walk in, a sea of grey and blue suits taking their places at the table. Harrison is quick to start the meeting, leaving me out of any conversation unless absolutely necessary. I use the time to analyse my team, looking them over to check for anything that seems off. Nothing does. They’re as good at doing what they do as they always are. Jovial even. I suppose they should be. They’re all wealthy. We’re doing well, as always, and they’re all doing their jobs in the manner that’s expected of them. However, because of a dead head of finance this meeting is one member short. I look at the empty chair in the room, wondering why the thought of Richard Tanner entering my head means his wife should join my thoughts.
I scowl and cross to the window, trying to push her aside. Everything hushes down the moment I move, all of them waiting for me to interject or offer some insight I haven’t shared with them yet. I don’t. I’m lost in reddened eyes again, perhaps trying to assimilate why they were of interest to me. Silver dress was nice. Tight. Sculptured. Not black, though. It wasn’t until the flash of silver in the box moved that I realised I’d been staring at her box for most of the first half of the performance. I stood with her, more engrossed in the dark recess she was in than the show on stage, and watched as she left. Why I followed, though, I don’t know.
“Gray?” Harrison says.
“What?”
“Did you have something to add?”
“No. Carry on.”
The drone begins again immediately, all of them with slightly less joviality about them now. Good. They’re not here to enjoy themselves. They’re here to make me money so that I can keep existing how I choose to. Although, we do need a new head of finance.
“Who do we have to replace Richard Tanner?” I ask, across the noise.
Milton Butler answers. “Deborah Collier could do it,” he says. “If we’re desperate.”
“We brought in Richard because Deborah wasn’t capable. Who else are you looking at?”
“We have three on file from when we hired Richard. I’m already looking at it,” Harrison says.
I nod and think back on the other candidates, reaching for a glass of water. Only one was close to his standard. “Offer it to Tom Henchforth. He was a close second. We’ll buy him out from Triscal. Call Paul tonight and offer him terms. We need someone in by next week.”
“Alright,” Harrison says.
It’s quiet for a moment or two, alleviating the strain on my sense of charisma. I pull in a long breath and listen to the nothingness for as long as it lasts, wishing I wasn’t here, and then tense again as the noise begins to build again. Laptop keys rattling. The buzz of the lights. People talking and mulling over new strategy. My fingers squeeze the glass in my hands, the grip shaking around the delicate object. I’m done with here for today, forever maybe. I know myself well enough, and this, today, is too much for my own anxiety to deal with.
The glass gets put down and I make my way across the room for the door, no glance at the team. Home. Silence and space. Harrison is at my back before I’ve made it across the small lobby outside the meeting room, his hands holding a bunch of papers. “Gray. I need you to sign these first.”
I nod and take them from his hand, making my way over to the reception desk. The woman there moves her stack of folders so I can begin signing documents I read a week ago. They’re not of interest, other than the fact that I’ll be making more money because of them. My signature scrawls repeatedly, fingers flicking through the sheaths one by one. He was right earlier, regardless of my attitude with him. I don’t need to be here for this. Don’t want to be either. I’m best out of this life these days. I’ll go home. Where I can continue searching for answers. Other than that, I’m done.
