The man crossed the spacious hall quickly, leather shoes tapping lightly on the black marble floor; he walked briskly, going as fast as he could without running. He stopped abruptly in front of a door, nervously rocking back and forth on his feet while trying to school his panicked expression in a professional mask of neutrality. He calmed his laboured breaths, skimming the documents he was holding, making sure that he had noted every relevant detail. His hand shook slightly when he gripped the handle and with one last deep breath, he entered calmly in the room, his composure completely different from before.Â
He scanned the office and found his target, the slim figure of a woman, her back turned towards the entrance, apparently too busy looking out of the big windows to acknowledge the man.
"Miss Reynolds," The man spoke up, internally congratulating himself for his cold, firm voice that hid perfectly his real feelings. "I was inspecting the daily transitions and⊠I noticed something that you might want to check." What he was doing could cost him his career; if he had made even one wrong calculation, if he had completely misinterpreted the situation, all of his hard-earned credibility would go down the drain and with that his chance at a comfortable life. The woman gave no sign of having heard him, not even turning around to face him, but after a beat, she extended an arm in his general direction. He reached towards her, thrusting the papers into her waiting hand.
The silence stretched out for several minutes, and with every second that passed the man's panic grew; he shouldn't have done that, he should have just kept quiet and waited for the situation to sort itself out. He began to mentally list all of the personal belongings on his desk, not wanting to leave anything behind when he would have been asked to clear it.
"Johnson, are those data implying what I think they are implying." Her voice was like the blade of a well-honed knife, clean and cutting, stopping the man's train of thought.
"Yes, Miss Reynolds, I think⊠they are. When I looked this morning I saw that the EtniGroup had purchased a sizeable amount of Mr. Glinder's actions and I knew it couldn't mean anything good. " The woman turned, her gaze cold and assessing, her lips pressed tight together. She made quite the terrifying picture, her harsh expression accentuated by the sharp lines of her bespoke jet-black suit, the stark contrast with her fair skin almost disquieting. It was a modern-day armour, designed to inspire fear and respect in whoever looked.Â
"Then I suppose we are expected for lunch, Mr. Johnson." Her bright green eyes sparkled, a light, the secretary knew, that promised something terrible was going to happen.
---
When Janice Reynolds crossed the entrance of the restaurant the first thing she heard was tasteful classic music, that contributed to the elegant ambience of the establishment. The host, a young man with a pleasant smile and deep maroon eyes, approached her but she spoke up before he could.
"The name is Reynolds. For three." After he quickly checked on the tablet he was holding, the host escorted her into one of the private rooms of the restaurant. She thanked him with a nod and then opened the door; there were three men seated at the table, readying themselves to taste the several delicacies in front of them. At the sound of the door opening they all turned around, wanting to see who was disturbing their lunch break. Janice forced herself not to roll her eyes at the expression on her brother's face; he looked at her like a deer might look at a car that was hurtling towards him, too terrified by looking at death's face to think of just removing himself from the road. Her brother has always been like that, a skittish herbivore who, for some reason had decided to act like a predator, only to try to run and hide when faced with the consequences of his actions. The other men, two irrelevant and nameless members of the council, whose only merit was having inherited enough stocks to sit at the board's meetings, lost their jovial expressions and immediately tried to make themselves smaller as if they could somehow disappear from the room. Luckily for them, the woman was merciful enough to dismiss them with a wave of her hand, saving both of them from a tremendously awkward conversation. Janice waited until the door closed to speak.
"Don't let me keep you from enjoying your lunch, dear brother. You have put a lot of effort into trying to convince those two to help you; I wouldn't want you to waste all of this." She watched his features, her same high cheekbones and thick eyelashes, tighten at her mocking tone. He raised his chin defiantly exactly like she would have done; it had always been strange, almost uncomfortable, to speak with her twin, to see her own green eyes look at her with so much disdain. The Reynolds twins resembled each other in looks and mannerisms almost eerily. If only they had been similar in temperament and composure too maybe she could have at least respected him.
"I will save you the humiliation of trying to find an excuse, and I'll skip to the part where I tell you why you won't dare to do something like that ever again." She slid on the table three photos and his whole face reddened, twisting in an expression of anger mixed with pure fear when he looked at them.
"How did you-" Janice didn't let him finish.
"It doesn't matter how. What matters is that you were stupid enough to let your wife insert a cheating clause in your prenup; if she got her hands on these her lawyer would tear you apart, and you'll be lucky if you got to keep your car. The next time you think about pulling something like what you just did, please remember that all the copies of these photos are in my safe." She smiled tightly at him and checked her watch, already tired of his childish antics.
Sebastian looked at her, his gaze full of contempt. "I had never thought you would stoop so low, sister. How can you blackmail the last living member of your family?"
"How can you conspire to sell our family company to our biggest competitor? Are you a child? Will you break this toy because you can't play with it?" She shot back, feeling a burst of anger at his words.
Her brother had never gotten over the fact that their father decided to give Janice the company, forcing him into an eternal second place, always in his twin sister's shadow, but every poor decision he took, made painfully clear that the Reynolds patriarch had been right in his choice.
Before he could say anything else she stood up, eager to leave him and that suffocating room behind her.
Janice approached her car, where her loyal secretary, Mr. Johnson was waiting for her. "Take a taxi and go home early, you deserve it. You can expect an early bonus for your efforts." The man profusely thanked her, before walking away and disappearing into the crowd, surely running home to tell his wife, a fierce woman Janice had met once the good news. She started the car, feeling the powerful engine rumble beneath her and soon she was speeding through the streets of her city, trying to relax and prepare for a boring afternoon of paperwork. The chime of her ringtone startled her but a smile immediately appeared on her face when she saw the caller ID.
"How is my favourite niece faring in Switzerland?" Haley was the only daughter of her brother, a bright teenage girl who had inherited all the fire of her mother, and luckily, only the looks of her father.Â
"Aunt Janice don't make fun of me! You know how much I hate this place!" Her smile grew upon hearing the pout in Haley's shrill voice. "I called you because I wanted to know what you thought of my new novel. Did you find any other plot holes?" Her niece had a great passion for writing, her head always buzzing with new ideas. Janice was lucky enough to be the one she turned to for advice, always asking her to meticulously revise every new chapter she wrote and explaining to her the new projects she wanted to try her hand at. Even though her job as a CEO was demanding, taking away most of her day, she always made sure to have some time to read every story Haley sent her, happy to be able to help her nurture this creative side of hers.
"I think it's pretty good; you are getting better at fleshing out characters. Keep going and I'm sure before you know it you will publish one of your novels."Â
"You are too nice to me!" Janice could hear the pleasure in her voice and she felt a rush of fondness warming her chest. "I wanted to talk to you about a new twist I wanted to add and..." Her niece's voice disappeared, covered by a loud buzzing sound and frowning the woman leaned toward the console of the car, trying to understand what was happening.
It was enough. Maybe, she thought much later, it had been karma for comparing her brother to a deer frozen in front of a car, maybe it had been a simple misfortune but that split second of distraction was enough. She didn't see the man fainting (later the police said it had been a heat stroke), and she didn't see the man's car barreling towards her. In fact, the last thing she saw was the unconscious face of a man and in the distance, a strange, unknown sparkle, but it was too late.Â
Janice Reynolds died at thirty-two years old. Her funeral was grandiose, the garlands expensive and her tomb grimly artful. But after the service finished, most of the guests reunited themselves in small groups, taking their chance to network with the many high-powered people present and only one person was crying. A young girl.
Not that it could have hurt her. She was dead after all.