Beyond the Distance

Chapter 4

Scott leaned back in his office chair and stared at the ceiling tiles as he stretched. The clock above his desk ticked away the seconds of 3:58 as he listened to his coworkers in the neighboring offices putting on their jackets and closing everything up for the night. A couple pairs of feet passed his office with cases in hand and a murmur toward his doorway, "Have a nice evening." His neck was craned against the back support of the chair, and his long, dark hair hung over the support as he continued to stare up at the ceiling. He didn't speak to them, but he lifted his arm to wave—not that they cared about either response. They were long past his office door. He kicked his feet up onto his desk when the clock changed to 4:00 and pursed his lips as he waited for the other workers to lock their offices up and leave through the front door. Only when the building was silent, aside from a single set of enthusiastic fingers tapping a keyboard in the office behind him, did he put on his own jacket, fastening every button up to his neck and rearranging his lavender scarf so that his neck was unexposed to the public on his way home. He hated the crowds and their awkward movements, their bodies colliding unintentionally with his own. He avoided such unpleasantness as much as possible, going to great lengths to ensure that he left late enough to miss the rush of workers who just finished their workday and still early enough to blend into the transport station to take him home... although he didn't need to worry much about that...

He looked out the window of his office at the passersby rolling together like rushing water, and he waited, tugging at the cuffs of his jacket, playing with the objects in his pockets. He paced the office idly, listening to the flurry of tapping in the next office. Grosvenor Cheney. He shot a dark glare in the direction of the tapping. He must be up to something. As dedicated as he is, it's unlike him to stay after hours and even more unlike him to type so animatedly. Grosvenor was Scott's manager, hired by his father roughly ten years earlier to manage the South-Eastern Binnestan branch, where all incoming transactions were systematically processed, organized, and filed away. He reported the branch's performance monthly to Allan and his financial associates, and he did his job with ebullience and gusto that always rubbed Scott the wrong way, but he did his job well, and he did his job efficiently, and that was all that mattered to his father. Oftentimes, he would sneak out of the office early after taking care of his responsibilities for the day, and this was why his typing hands concerned Scott. He was a passionate man, but he wasn't that passionate.

The hallway lights were already dimmed for the night, but they hissed above Scott as he passed, and this sound combined with his footsteps against the tiles and the typing in the room he approached made him almost as uncomfortable as walking through the crowded city streets. His boots tapped against the tiled floor loud enough to compete with the typing, but the sound pursued him. He was growing increasingly impatient with Cheney's after-work business. His curiosity got the better of him, and he stopped in his manager's doorway, trying to look as casual and unsuspecting as possible.

Cheney paused when he heard Scott's footsteps cease in the doorway, and with his reading glasses on his nose, he glanced up from his work. "Scott, my good man, what can I do for you? I thought everyone had gone home since the day has ended. Surely, there is a reason you haven't gone home yet. By the looks of it, it seems you have missed your transport time to District 27."

"I'm not worried about it. There's another station across town leaving in half an hour."

"That may be, but you'd have to really get going if you want to make that time."

"That may be," Scott echoed, "but what about you? It's unlike you to linger with the rats that come out after hours."

"Oh, I've had work to catch up on, and I'm meeting this evening for dinner with business associates in District 24." He flashed a charming smile. "The nearest station is departing for that location at five thirty, so I'm staying here to wrap up the final details. I'm not meeting with the clients tonight, but I'm sharing this work with your father and a few others for approval and any further insights."