The chattering of keystrokes reverberated between the maple-panelled walls and the marble-tiled floor multiplying exponentially throughout the grandiose lobby of the Mitchell-Thomas law firm. The only other sounds were the faint hint of Bach playing at a barely audible decibel through hidden speakers and the distant muffled ringing of office phones. The 9:17am sun was beaming crisply through the floor to ceiling windows bleaching the surgically sterile hall into a bizarrely exposed dream state.
Dante Walters, an tall dark haired man of thirty-one sat rigidly in an oversize black leather armchair. He sat blinking at a Wall Street Journal he held out at arms length over his knees, the skin of his face still tight from sleep. Clearing his throat he gave up on reading and tossed the paper onto the squat oak table beside his chair. Straitening himself in the chair, the stiff leather creaked beneath him as he stretched his neck to the ceiling adjusting the knot of his tie. He flattened the tongue with flat, slightly sweating palms upon the smooth, dark silk.
Dante tugged carefully on the cuffs of his crisply starched shirt exposing a half inch of white from inside the sleeves of his onyx suit. He glanced towards the receptionist's desk and observed Candice sitting unnaturally upright behind the huge, barren desk. Her face, void of expression was transfixed on the computer monitor as her fingers danced all over the keyboard. The short chord of a conference call from her phone pierced the near silence. She snatched the receiver without breaking eye contact with her screen.
"Yes?" Her high clear voice pinged like sonar. She stopped typing and scanned the room her eyes lingering on the lone man occupying the lobby. "Just your nine-thirty, sir," she returned her attention to the monitor, "I'll send him right in. Mm hm." Candice hung up noisily and swiveled in her chair, "Mr. Walters?"
"Yes?" He acts surprised.
"Mr. Thomas will see you now," she grasped the arms of her chair and rolled it back as she rose and walked to the door. Dante rocked forward grabbing his briefcase and strolled briskly across the gap. Every footstep slapping the marble like a snare. She opened the door and motioned to enter.
"Thank you," he said. Candice gave a bright smile and placed her palm on his back as she ushered him in.
"Good luck!"
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Hmmmmm I am not to sure i understand this. Maybe i am not supposed to, maybe a person with a certain way of thinking will understand it. I am curious of what happens in the office. Does the man shoot up the office? maybe it was a unemployed office and he did not qualify for a job and took it out on them? Or perhaps it was a drug meeting? Maybe they are old friends from childhood? Anyway will there be a part two to this short story? I can not go on not knowing what happens my imagination only strecthes so far!
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