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    He was more concerned about the new chair in the corner than the woman standing behind it, her elbows resting on the back of the chair, her hands folded on lightly over each other. Admittedly, she had legs up to her ears, and the buttons on her white blouse were open a little too far for normal decency, and she was asking for a favor, but it was anything but sexual. He could have found someone to help her with that. A quick mention of money had made him perk up, but the amount she mentioned was able to kill that mood. Therefore, his eyes stayed centered on the new chair (red leather) pushed in the corner of the room.

    “And you’ll be doing a great favor to our community Mr. Wolfgang.” Wolfgang couldn’t even remember her name, and fiddled with his loosened tie with absent fingers. The woman’s dark eyes were focused on Wolfgang with the willpower of an entire company, waiting for an answer. All he could think about were the strange contest between her pale skin and dark, thick hair. ‘Must be dyed.’ He thought, but that particular worry was gone as soon as it had come. “We at OneTouch Security need to continue to offe-“

    “Six times that amount.” He said, standing up to walk over to the chair, then letting one finger trail over the back of it, the other arm crossed over his torso. The woman obviously took his finger as a sign of interest, and was therefore thoroughly surprised at his statement. He didn’t look up to see the frown that barely creased the corners of her mouth, or her face tighten.

    “Sixty thousand? That’s-“

    “Too low? Fine, ten times the original amount.” Wolfgang interjected distractedly. “And you have to sleep with me.” He crossed his arms, glasses sliding down his nose as his head tilted downwards towards the chair. He pushed them up irritably. He had no time for beautiful women and the big corporations they represented. What he was really thinking about was how they had gotten the chair through the door. The doorframe was too small…

    “Mr. Wolfgang! That’s…” The woman flailed around for words in her own sophisticated way, before saying tightly, “You will be hearing from us again. Quite soon, I assure you.” She grabbed the professional jacket she had brought with her, and a small clutch. She strode to the door with its frosted glass, and it would’ve slammed behind her if the hinges hadn’t caught themselves at the last second.

    “Don’t let the door hit you…” The man replied, not bothering to finish the sentence. He didn’t even seem to realize that she had left the room. After a few more seconds of concentration, he sat down in the chair with a heavy thud, and his mind pronounced it good and then proceeded to wander off in directions unforeseen. Unnoticed, the card that had been precariously balanced on the desk nearby fluttered to the dark carpet and underneath like some forgotten pale leaf. It was too thin to fall directly to the floor.

    ‘Evelyn White
    OneTouch Securities
    ab. David Slater
    67-38994-23’

    This particular card was a plain and creamy white, with no logo. It was the calling card of someone who had been screwed around with by someone else who had absolutely no interest in her or her sexual favors (not that she handed them out, of course).

    --

    Clacking down the polished wooden stairs in her heels, Evelyn White was irritated, to say the least. He must just be a sexually frustrated jerk or something. At the bottom of the stairs was a small lobby, with an empty receptionist desk and heavily worn leather chairs. It was a sharp difference to the lawyer’s (she was already thinking of him impolitely) office, which was warm, with comfortable furniture and papers scattered everywhere. Where his room looked lived in, the lobby was spotless, but unused. She always noticed décor when it came to offices, mostly due to the heavy influence of OneTouch on her perceptions.

    Coming out of her other thoughts, it was then that she noticed the heavy rattling sounds.

    “Damn it!” She peered between the blinds, watching the downpour of the thudding rain that made the empty streets for maybe a few seconds. A light tap on her shoulder made her jump and turn around quickly, heart pounding and nails biting into her palms. But it was simply a young man with messy blonde hair and glasses over his blue eyes. Evelyn had almost mistaken him for a girl, at first.

    “Can I help you?” He asked politely, before she could say anything, but somehow it didn’t seem polite. His statement was almost brusque. She bristled a little before calming herself down; this particular man hadn’t done anything yet.

    “No. I’m just leaving.” She said shortly, unable to make herself be sweet again. She’d have to save all of her sweetness for Mr. Slater, because he wouldn’t be pleased. He could be so… Volatile. Evelyn tossed her jacket over herself with a grim look, holding her small clutch close, and blazed out the door. No matter that she’d have to walk a while in heels and in the pouring rain for close to three blocks before she got to the bus stop.

    “Hey, it’s cold!” The other protested, holding out a hand, but she was already gone. Then the door busted open again, and a soaked Evelyn stood there, gasping for breath, bringing a gust of freezing air with her. After a reproachful glare at the young man and a short dripping period onto the floor, she was gone again, this time steeled for the weather.

    --

    “Wolfgang, you know that some strange woman was just here, right?” Wolfgang’s head immediately snapped up, and he dropped yesterday’s newspaper onto the ground, which had a blaring headline of “OneTouch Garners Over 1,000,000 Customers This Year”. He moved faster than it looked like he was capable of moving, pinning the blonde against the wall and immediately kissing him. However, what should have been a touching moment was immediately gone.

    “Stop that.” The blonde said, turning his head away from Wolfgang’s, but not shoving him away.

    “But it’s been so long, Midas!” He protested, again trying to kiss and getting rejected by a quick turn of the head. Midas’ blue eyes were coldly annoyed if anything.

    “Half an hour. You’ve been sitting in here doing nothing that entire time, right?” Midas replied, surveying the disheveled lawyer from the top of his decidedly blue hair to his shoes (one had a new, large scruff running down its side). His rectangular glasses were again coming off his nose, and his blue eyes were focused for once on his secretary. Then he looked to the desk, and grimaced. “I was right. And I bet that woman just now was a customer you screwed over.” He pulled his hands away from Wolfgang, who didn’t answer, just shrugged. Midas made his way over to the desk, first tugging his shirt down and then brushing a few strands of blonde hair out of his face. Somehow, Wolfgang always got a hand up his shirt, and it always got worse as the day got on.

    “She was representing some company… It’s not like we need money anyways… We can just live off love.” He said lightly, settling down in the chair and picking up the newspaper, not even seeming to notice the headline. “By the way, where’d the chair come from? And how? I like it… You always had taste…” Wolfgang’s hand was rubbing over it again slowly.

    “That came with the building.” Midas said with annoyance, sorting papers quickly and pointedly ignored Wolfgang from then on. He licked his finger once, making the hastily signed paper stick to it for easier sorting.

    “…No, it just showed up today. And it wouldn’t fit through the door. Did it come through the window? And when? We’ve been here all day.” All Midas did was sigh again, but a sort of half-smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He could never stay annoyed for long.

    The time was 7:00 p.m.

    --

    The rain was lessening now, as all rain eventually does. Now it was only a light plopping; however, it was still unbearably cold, and the road was slick with precipitation. The woman sprawled on the sidewalk didn’t notice that at all. She didn’t notice much of anything anymore. Her clothes were soaked all the way through, and one black shoe lay a few paces away from her, the heel snapped clean off.

    Her white shirt was stained a dark red, and that same dark red was being aided by the rain into a gutter close by. It dripped slowly, entangled in her dark hair.

    It would be 12:32 a.m. by the time Evelyn White’s body was found.