Executive Desk

"Normally I would say it is a pleasure to see you Mr. Truce, however, it is not.  And as you may or may not be aware, I'm an extremely busy person with not much time to spare, meaning you have exactly 6 minutes before you're asked to leave this room."  Nadine Lee Fletcher glances at her watch as she sits well poised on top of an impressively large desk openly exposing very long, toned legs free of annoying fabric.“What is it you want?”

Dazzling rays of sun sashay through ceiling-to-floor length windows of the Lee-Reynolds Tower's stunning 44th floor private office suite, casting a misty plume of effervescence over imported furniture and bits of rare fine art.  As if already well-acquainted with the scene, Mason Truce casually crosses the length of the room before playfully tapping strong manicured fingers over the edges of a gleaming ebony wood executive desk.  Secretly he admires Nadine's exceptional tastes in all things exquisite as well as her physically remarkable appearance and mesmerizing feminine floral scent. 

"Very good use of feng shui.  You must share your designer secrets with me over tea one day.  My office is due for an overhaul, as are many other things in my life.”  Moving closer to her, he flashes his most impressive smile.

“You're wasting my time Mr. Truce,”  Nadine says, her tone suddenly soft and sweet, as she grips one side of her desk, ignoring a stack of important papers as they fall like an injured dancer to the floor.

"Is this the same desk  Lisette used to conduct her drug dealing enterprise or did you order it new?"  Mason Truce whispers above her, suddenly feeling full.

Nadine turns her face away from his.  "I'd like to offer you a hot cup of tea, but three minutes isn't nearly long enough to drink it." 

"I've been trying to speak with your grandmother for over three months now.  Is she still alive?"  Mason asks, noticing the delicate arch of her lean back.

"My grandmother is a very busy woman.  Two minutes more, Mr. Truce.  By the way, your line of questioning is in desperate need of improvement."

"Where are my children Nadine?"  Mason's green eyes blaze menacingly before closing them briefly.

Silent, Nadine's icy expression never falters.  Her fair complexion never changes hues, her frame remains still and calm.  There are no noticeable body ticks or clues Mason can decipher other than what he feels on the inside.

“Apparently 6 minutes was sufficient,”  Mason Truce says before removing himself.  He stands up from the desk, and quickly zips his pants just as the office door swings open and a slender woman with facial features similar to Nadine’s appears.  "Excuse me Mrs. Fletcher,  Mr. Truce's security, Mr. Tiny, requires a word with him immediately."

"Mr. Truce was just leaving." Nadine smiles, sliding off the top of her desk before delicately smoothing down her skirt.  “That was interesting,”  she says out loud and to no one in particular.

“Interesting is such a bland description of my many talents, Mrs. Fletcher.  By the way,  you know once Devra has our baby, I'm sure she'll want to assist you in overseeing Lisette's more recent activities, the legal ones of course.  As 30% owner I believe she has that option."

Nadine smirks, unaware her raspberry lipstick is smudged down to her chin, "I've heard Devra already had your baby Mr. Truce.  I believe she tried to flush it down the toilet which is perhaps what your security wishes to speak with you about.  Good day, good luck, congratulations, and thank you for your six minutes.  It‘s been a long time."

“I look forward to our next meeting,”  Mason Truce says, adjusting his suit jacket as he walks past Nadine’s unperturbed secretary into the hallway, where an anxious Tiny waits.

***