The man — Bates — looks Ed up and down but doesn't take his hand. "You're John White?"
"I am."
"Huh. I didn't expect a black guy."
Ed's face hardens a fraction and he drops his hand back to his side. "What'd you expect?"
"Not a black guy. But, hey, it's cool. What do you want?"
"We were hoping to get some information," Ed says. "Unless this is a bad time?"
He snorts. "What time isn't? Come in. You got a job you're working on? Need help? I can totally help."
He steps aside.
Ed walks in. You follow.
Next
The garage has been refitted into a crowded flat complete with a small kitchenette in the corner and a toilet walled off by a shower curtain. Sitting against the far wall is a custom made desktop computer with four screens and a whole rack of servers bolted to the wall behind it.
"This is... your office?" Ed asks.
"Nah. I never see clients here. This is just a temporary stop while business is... you know... what it is. I'm going to move into a better place soon."
"Where?"
He sniffs. "Haven't decided yet. Have to wait while my idiot mum figures out how to sell a house. Then we'll see what we can do with the money. Sit down, will you? Your standing is freaking me out."
The only seat in the room is the office chair by the desk which Bates is already settling down into.
You and Ed sit awkwardly on the edge of an unmade bed.
Next