Croissants and Second Chances

The 52nd floor of Amotken Tower had been abandoned. In a building bursting with so many people and businesses that particular floor with it’s cubicles had emptied, save for security guards, and four men occupying the sleek soundproofed office.

Zaron stared out the full wall of windows streaked by rain, his gaze lost in the view of the nearby Space Needle’s crown drifting in and out like a specter in the fog, and wondered briefly if such a view was some deities’ version of punishment. The man stood at unwavering attention behind Evero’s leather settee. There were few things he hated more than these surprise meetings — not that he found himself ‘liking’ much of anything. But the pointy-eared dandelion eater sitting opposite of them certainly made the top of the list.

“– though it might be something to gather more information on. Don’t you agree, Zaron?”

His eyes shifted focus to his brother’s esteemed guest, and he reminded himself to keep the tingling creeping of anxiety in check. “Forgive me, sir. Agree to what?”

Evero shifted in his seat, taking a moment to sip from the lukewarm cappuccino he dared not complain about.

If Evero commanded fear and obedience from his subordinates, the Koshari ambassador matched that energy and then some. He picked up one of the still-warm croissants from a heated platter and slowly ripped the delicate pastry in half as he smiled with unnerving calm.

“That further investigation should be done into the recent break-ins.”

Zaron’s cool demeanor never once faltered under the elf’s gaze. “As has been explained, the investigation has been on-going.”

“The differences between Seattle and home. In my Circle I would either already have answers, or I would be hiring a new Decker.”

He could feel Evero bristle. “But we are not in your Circle. Sir,” Zaron added as a deliberate afterthought. “Our Decker is one of the best, and an asset you would sorely regret misplacing. Every analysis has come up a wash. The most we can figure is it’s something originating from old world tech. Something that’s unknown to any database, underworld or otherwise.”

The ambassador hummed, considering Zaron as he chewed a bite of the soft bread. The cyberwear in his body triggered an unseen alert as their guest scanned his vitals, then chuckled. “I see you’ve put your second chance to good use. Evero, you shouldn’t keep your brother in the shadows.”

Zaron met their guest’s gaze. “I have no ambitions for moving up. I work best where I am now.”

Nodding, the elf waved him off, undeterred by the refusal, but uninterested with further attempts for a reaction. One half of the pastry was consumed while the other was discarded on a napkin.

“Nevertheless, I expect the matter to be handled by my next visit.”

“Naturally,” Evero responded with ease as he rose to his feet along with their guest. “You are always welcome any time.”

“I know I am.”

The two bosses traded dashing plastic smiles over a warm handshake while the bodyguards exchanged curt acknowledging nods. Parting ways at the frosted glass doors, the ambassador was escorted away by the attractive dryad secretary, and the two men maintained casual silhouettes till the unwanted company disappeared into the polished brass elevator.

A collective sigh deflated both men’s chests.

Tugging his tie loose, Evero found his way to his office bar cart. “Tell Lil to toss the bread and get me a hot coffee.”

Zaron nodded and waited by the door. “Then I’ll check in with Charge.”

Evero hummed in approval. He paused, then filled two glasses with whiskey. He walked over to hand the cut glass to Zaron. “You can start work on the invisible interloper tomorrow. Take the rest of the day off. Nothing good happens when it rains.”