Silence is Golden

02. Nice Surprise

'You're late, Mr Linton!'

The warm greeting of my dear employer immediately made me feel at home. His cold glare, and the arctic waves of disapproval radiating off of him completed the congenial working atmosphere.

'Yes,' I cheerfully agreed, dropped my briefcase on the desk and flopped into my chair. 'One hour, fifteen minutes and....' Quickly, I slipped my hand into my pocket and pulled out my very own watch that I had purchased from my first pay cheque, '...thirty-two seconds.'

Letting the watch snap shut again, I stowed it away.

'Admirable, how exactly you keep an eye on the time of day, Mr Linton.'

'Thank you, Sir.'

'It would be even more admirable, however,' he added with a glare, stepping from the shadowy doorway of his office, where he had been standing, fully into mine, 'if you would devote the same amount of attention to the time of day when you are supposed to appear for work. Punctually!'

I fought to ignore the shiver that went down my back as our eyes met. Mr Rikkard Ambrose was an overpowering personality under any circumstances, but if you had experienced those eyes of his looking into yours from only a few inches away, if you had felt those long, elegant fingers capturing your face while his lips captured other parts of you...

Let me put it this way: it gave a whole new meaning to the word 'powerful'.

'Indeed it would, Sir.'

'Why exactly are you late Mr Linton?'

'I got arrested.'

He stood there for a moment, his arms folded, his posture stiff as a stone statue. His eyes narrowed infinitesimally, but other than that, he showed not the slightest sign of any emotion whatsoever. The temperature in the room dropped thirty degrees.

'Ordinarily, this would surprise me, Mr Linton. But, coming from you, it does not. Why do you think that is?'

'Because you know I'm a little demon from hell?' I suggested, cheerfully, and pulled open a desk drawer. As expected, I found the correspondence of the day there, which Mr Stone from the lobby had left for me. Pulling it out, I started busily sorting through the envelopes.

'A pertinent point, Mr Linton.'

'Thank you, Sir.'

'The time lost will be deducted from your wages.'

'Of course it will, Sir.'

There was a pause. No, not a pause. A silence. A negative opposite of noise that seemed to stretch, tickle my ears and send a cold shiver through me. Nobody could say nothing like Mr Ambrose. There was a question in that silence. A question he wanted me to answer without having to actually waste his words on asking it.

Ha! Fat chance.

Opening one of the envelopes, I grinned, hiding my face behind the letter. Not a word crossed my lips.

Silence.

More silence.

And a pinch more silence, with a bit of reticence and stillness thrown in.

Finally, he forced himself to say: 'So...'

'Yes, Sir?'

'Why, Mr Linton?'

My grin widened, and I held the letter closer to my face, just in case the grin was so broad it peeked out at either end. 'Why what, Sir?'

'Don't play dumb with me! Why were you arrested?'