The Darkness - Jason Pinter [49]
man and a chubby white guy with a red face and thick
shoulders who was fiddling with his cuff links. Morgan
walked over and sat down. The chairs were red leather,
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plush and comfortable. Morgan debated leaning back,
but noticed that all the other guys were sitting straight,
waiting for something, not wanting to be viewed as too
aloof. Morgan guessed that they were all there for the
same reason he was: money.
There was something oddly familiar about the grouping, and it didn't take Morgan long to realize what it was.
Everyone at the table, their clothes, their mannerisms,
their style and smell, all reminded him of men he used to
work with.
Morgan looked back at the doorway, wanted to see
Chester's reaction to all of this, but the blond man had
closed the door. Morgan noticed there was another small
keypad on this side of the door he'd entered from. The
LED light on it was red. They were all in here until
someone let them out.
There were few noises. Chubby played with his cuff
links. A black guy at the opposite end seemed to have the
sniffles. A young guy with red hair and a pocket square
was rubbing what looked like a razor burn on his neck.
And then the door at the other end of the conference
room opened. Every eye in the room turned to face it,
pupils wide, breath being held.
In strode a man who stood about five foot ten. Brown
hair, neatly trimmed and parted to the left. He wore a
suit that Morgan guessed to be Brooks Brothers, maybe
Vestimenta. There was a gold watch on his left wrist,
and a thick silver wedding band as well. He had wide
eyes, narrowed ever so slightly. He wore a pair of smart,
stylish glasses and gave off an air of both confidence
and wealth.
He stood at the doorway for a moment, his eyes traveling around the room, gazing over every single person seated.
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Jason Pinter
And then he walked over to the head of the table, put his
palms on the wood, hunched over and stared at them.
"I know why you're here," he said. "I know why you
all went to bed early last night, got up this morning, took
hot showers, broke out those shave brushes and dolled
yourself up like you were going to the fucking prom. I
know why you did that."
He looked at the chubby kid, fingers squeezing one
cuff link like a pig trying to get the hot dog out of the
blanket. "Son?" the man said.
"Sorry?" Chubby replied.
"Those things aren't going to fly away. You don't need
to keep touching them."
"Sorry," Chubby said. He stopped fidgeting, and
placed his hands on his lap.
"Anyway," the man continued, "my name is Leonard
Reeves. But you're not here to be my best buds, so let's
cut to the chase. Two years ago, I was making one point
two million. I had a sweet corner office at one of the most
prestigious firms on Wall Street. I had it all. When people
say they had it all, they're usually bullshitting you, but
man, I had it all. Beautiful wife who could've put those
Swedish bikini models to shame. A penthouse spread
overlooking Central Park with a terrace bigger than most
people's homes in the Hamptons, and a secretary that I
could tell wanted to blow me every time I stepped into
the office. Everyone in my life acted like I walked on
water, and that's how I felt as well."
Chubby smiled. He must have liked that mental image.
"But then, just like that, I lost it all. Every cent. My
company got bought by another, larger corporation. Overnight my millions in stock options were worth less than
the Pope's cock. I owed three million dollars on my
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mortgage. When I hadn't found a new job in a month, my
wife left me. For one of my best friends, who was lucky
enough to be working at the same company only in a sector that didn't overlap. She divorced me on the grounds
that I was emotionally distant, which, to be honest, I
probably was."
Morgan heard a few muted laughs, but they were respectful rather than dismissive. They'd all been there. Or
knew those who had.
"So I got thrown out of my apartment," Leonard said.
"My