Holding a saucer in his left hand he sipped from the tea cup in his right. Enjoying the rain and the quite it seemed to bring he appreciated the dulling of everything around it. He stood in his private office surrounded by endless displays of antiques from a hundred different cultures and what seemed to be a hundred different centuries. Statues stood proudly among pottery that shared space with ancient weaponry both of the small and delicate flavors mixed in with the large and barbaric.
Racing to every corner of the room was walls of books that had within it rows and rows. Most of them filled with age-old copies of original press, but some were even handwritten in languages not spoken in centuries. A large round table sat in the middle of the room made of oak that some would estimate was fashioned from the very first tools invented for such a Master Piece. Marcus always felt a sense of smug nobility knowing most historians would not even be able to conclude the authenticity of most of the relics he had in this room. They would offer their most educated word to describe it; antediluvian, and thinking most would have to look that up.
Drinking his tea always took him to his little out of place window he had put in just for this purpose. Not even all the wonder and history surrounding him could compete with the simplicity of a window with a view. He would drink his tea at this little window every day unless called to other matters away from his estate. His flavor of tea was always different since he enjoyed most of them, but always tea and always at his little misplaced view.
Hearing the echoes of high heels on marble approaching at a determined pace, he knew his little oasis was about to be interrupted. He decided to absorb every last second.
Walking into the imposing office in a tight white business shirt and grey skirt, Carmon suddenly stopped. Looking like she should be wearing glasses she carried a folder under her arm and a phone at her ear. She quietly listened to the other end of the conversation while gently checking her hair that was pulled back into a bun. Finally, she ended the call. “That was Merrick,” she said slipping the phone into her pocket.
Marcus kept looking out the window and enjoying the rain watering the green rolling hills. Taking another sip and placing the cup on the saucer he sighed not caring for the interruption, but knowing business was at hand. Walking in front of a giant world map covering the entire northern wall he let the quiet rainy day move on outside and begun to concentrate. “And?” he asked plainly.
Placing the folder on the large conference table she felt a little hesitant about continuing. Turning to her while taking another sip of his tea Marcus raised his eyebrows insisting the story continued. Taking a deep breath she relayed Merricks findings. “He is getting nowhere, like you predicted.”
Staring at her he began to make her confidence waver ever so slightly since there was much more to disclose. Knowing...