Uninterested?

Prolouge

The sound of frantic mumbling echoed around a dimly lit living room, fast clicks of heels paced from one side of the room to the other, The sound was beginning to become monotonous to his ears. Mr. Fontaine glanced over his phone, his hands trembling ever so slightly as he tried  to contain his worsening anxiety which grew with each Ding from the mobile device. He watched as thousands by the thousands of dollars left their business bank account threatening to start taking from their savings and Childs college funds.

The number wasn't going to stop dropping
anytime soon, Mr.Fontaine stood up pinching  the bridge of his beak as his eyebrows furrowed frustratingly. He slowly turned his head to look at his wife whose fluffed up cheeks were still stained with tears from a total breakdown earlier that evening. An accident had happened at one of their planned events, the building that they had rented for the client ended up catching fire that night. And despite it all it all fell into their hands. "I just don't know how or w-why? We checked every area of that place and it all came back in the reports as a safe environment for everyone!" Mr. Fontaine watched his wife battle with herself and  reason, but like the now long gone servants and maids, he knew he wouldn't be any better.

Instead of staying in the room he left to explore the now quiet halls, he looked up at the varying paintings and photos that adorned it before stopping at the door to his office. He opened the door making a soft click before opening up to scattered bills, news articles and various other papers that laid on nearly every corner of the room. He shifted some of the mess off his lowered leather desk chair before sitting down in it not caring that his desk was now up to his beak. An old piece of pink construction paper caught his eye and he sat up just a bit to grasp the craft paper.

A drawing adorned it, it showed him and a little bird with the sentence  'Happy Father's Day from your little bit!' Written in a pristine hand contrasting that shaky kid like drawing on its surface. Mr.Fontaine smiled solemnly at the paper reminiscing when his little bit truly was little, but his smile slowly changed as he began to ponder over all his options.

He set the paper in his lap in front of him as he twiddled with the phone in his hand, he began to have an internal clash over what he was about to do but as always with sides one is victorious. He sighed and dialed a number, his shoulders tense and haunched as he stared down at the floor, the ringing echoing through his ears.
A familiar 'hello?' Finally broke the monotonous noise, he picked his head up slightly and huffed out a sigh before speaking. "Hey it's me, I'm willing to accept your offer." Silence stirred through the air as a solemn voice hit his ears that still had a twinge of excitement. "Yeah we can meet next month, see you then." He set the phone down next to the drawing on his desk not even daring to look it's way, ashamed at what he just did. Instead he picked up the drawing, delicately folded it and stuffed it in his pocket for safekeeping before shutting off his office lights and heading to bed with a heavy heart and a heavy sigh.