Lamborghini | Tony Stark

FIVE - CARDBOARD BOXES

It was four-thirty in the afternoon on a grey Friday in New York City when Sasha's phone started vibrating on her desk, dragging her eyes away from the dim laptop screen in front of her for the first time in a handful of hours.

A cold cup of coffee was sat on a stained placemat and there was an empty plate that at around one o'clock that afternoon, had a microwaved meatball sub someone else in the office had brought for her on it.

The vase the flowers from Tony had been sat in was now empty little over two weeks later and a black reed diffuser claiming to smell like leather and sandalwood was in front of it, being the only form of decoration Sasha had in her office.

Swiping across the screen, Sasha cleared her throat and held the phone to her ear, continuing to read through a lengthy document on her laptop at the same time.

"Sasha Coulson."

"Did you even look at who was calling you?"

Sasha paused, letting out a breath as she leant back in her chair and took a break from working for a moment.

"No, I didn't. To what do I owe the pleasure, Tony?"

Tony chuckled quietly, "I found a box of stuff at the tower, belongs to Phil. I wondered if you wanted me to call by your place with it? Or I can just get rid of it, I don't know if you'll want half of this stuff. Totally your call."

Sasha pursed her lips, glancing out the window of her office and seeing the Stark Tower a few blocks away. The entire building was lit from top to bottom, undoubtedly being one of the more famous landmarks of the city.

"I can come by I'm done with work on my way home if that's good for you?"

"Sure, no problem. Give me a call when you're here and I'll make sure security don't have you thrown out."

Sasha rolled her eyes, "Thanks, Tony," she said, sarcasm laced into her words.

"Anytime. Catch you later."

By the time Sasha reached the point where she could finally close her laptop for the day without too much worry about her workload, the clock was showing seven forty-five in the evening.

It was still raining hard when she walked out of her office building and crossed the street, a black umbrella covered her from the elements as she walked the handful of blocks to the Stark Tower.

With an upcoming court case prying unforgivingly on her mind, Sasha was welcoming to something that would take her mind off work, even if it wasn't the happiest of tasks. It had taken her two months to sort out everything that was in Phil's apartment after he died, opting to give most of his belongings to charity but keeping some things for herself, a few of his shirts and Red Sox jerseys were hung up in her wardrobe, as well as his watch which was locked away in a jewellery box along with their parents' wedding rings.

She called Tony from the reception of his building, wiping the soles of her black Louboutin's on a carpet by the revolving door. He never answered and the call eventually went to voicemail at the same time one of the elevators dinged, Tony stepping out with a grin and the wave of an arm.

He was dressed in black track pants and a plain red t-shirt, oil staining his forearms and hands. They took the elevator together and Tony asked Sasha about work, making small talk until he led her down a corridor to a room with a sunken living space housing red leather couches and a fully stocked bar on the other side of the room, floor to ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan.

"Drink?" Tony asked, walking behind the bar and grabbing two short glasses while Sasha wandered over to the windows, placing a hand on the glass as she peered out.