Dedicated to:
@pdblrb
Thanks for reading my works!
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The building itself is not as tall as the Garner building. But it certainly is spread out some bit. It would make sense since this company is a medicinal firm that specializes in production and research of medication. Garner Inc. is directed more at the marketing and retail of medicine that comes from Vita Bona Inc. And also agriculture.
Walking into the the building, we observe a large atrium. The logo of the firm is on the wall at the far end of the room, and a rectangular chandelier that looks modern in aesthetic background hangs from the ceiling.
Azrael talks to the lady at the reception and soon we're walking to the elevator. Pressing the sixteenth floor, we go up. wordlessly. I'd usually talk with my friends quite some bit to enjoy their presence But with Azrael, him being quit and not saying a word, even hardly making a sound when he breaths is enough to give presence to the room. It's enough for me.
The doors open, and we go to the room that was indicated for the meeting. Azrael knocks on the door and after being prompted to we go in. Inside, at a wide table, are two men. One I don't recognize but the other is the one from yesterday. The one at the concert hall.
Seeing us enter, both of them stand and smile, welcoming us. The one from yesterday walks around the table to where Azrael is and gives him a hug that I am tempted to pull him out of. But I can't do that as there's nothing between us right now. But the urge to still is there.
"Hello, Azrael," says the man.
As he is closer, I can observe that he's not that much older than us. Maybe late twenties. Early thirties. He stands taller than Azrael but shorter than myself. In fact, Azrael is the shortest in the room with the other two men around the same height but myself as the tallest.
"Hello, Dean," replies Azrael, "I hope we didn't make you wait long."
"Not at all! We just walked in here, didn't we, Noah?" Dean, the man from the concert hall, says to the other man.
"It's true," says Noah, "we just walked in and sat down when you knocked."
Noah also walks around the table to give Azrael a hug. I'm guessing they're close friends.
"And who might this be?" asks Dean as he turns to look at me with a jovial smile.
"This is Hogarth. He is my assistant," answers Azrael as he puts a hand on my arm.
"An assistant?" asks Dean with surprise that is mirrored in Noah's expression, "For you?"
"Yes," says Azrael.
"That's very new," remarks Dean. he steps over to me to shake my hand, "it's very nice to meet you, Hogarth."
"Nice to meet you as well," I reply.
"So shall we get started?" asks Dean as he moves to the table and gestures to the papers spread out there.
"I think it would be best to," replies Azrael as we sit.
The papers seem to be rather easy as we get through most of them quite easily. But it takes time to finish them as we mix small talk with the process of the work.
"I sent the cheque from yesterday's concert to the hospital by the way, Azrael," says Dean.
"Do you think it will help them in building the new children's ward that they desired?" asks Azrael.
"I think so," says Dean as he pulls out a paper from a different stack and shows it to Azrael, "they aimed to get this much, and we were able to acquire this much."
He points to two numbers on the paper he holds up and Azrael nods slowly.
"They seem to be doing well. But if they need more, make me aware," says Azrael.
"I will," says Dean, "it wouldn't do to have our hospital in trouble."
"You own a hospital?" I ask curiously.
"We do," answers Dean "well, we own part of the hospital in question, which is why we make sure to take care of it."
"It's one of our more philanthropic enterprises," says Azrael.
"But again," says Azrael as he indicates the spreadsheet they both look at, "make sure to let me know. I'll sign these other papers and have them back to you in next week, and you can tell me then if there's any issue."
"Will do," says Dean.
Dean and Azrael are able to clean up the rest of the papers in need of attention and soon we're done. Noah and I as assistants do our jobs and soon we're done.
"Um, Azrael," says Dean as I pack up the papers that we need to take back to our office.
"Is this about...the meeting?" asks Azrael tiredly, as if the topic they're discussing is not that lovely.
"Yes. The Collection has made it clear that they demand your presence," says Dean.
"Or they'll take action?" asks Azrael knowingly.
"Yes."
"I may attend."
"If you do I may as well," says Dean.
"We'll discuss this more later," says Azrael as he stands and gestures for me to as well, "but until then, have a nice night."
"You too," says Dean, and with a nod Azrael leads us out and to the elevators.
We ride down in silence except for when Azrael pulls out a phone to dial Chad to pull up. But then it's back to silence and only the elevator humming. Looking at Azrael, I notice that his face is paler than usual. The meeting must've taken more out of Azrael as one hand of his is against the wall supporting his tired weight.
"Are you alright?" I ask as I move closer to put a hand on his back.
"Yes," replies Azrael as he looks up and gives me a reassuring smile, "just...a little winded from this evening."
"Do you want to go home?" I ask, "We don't have to go to dinner."
"No," says Azrael as the elevator reaches our floor and we get off, "I promised a meal or you so that much I can keep."
"Well, you should eat dinner as well," I note, then smile, "and I wouldn't mind a free meal."
Azrael chuckles and we leave outside to the car which Chad has dutifully brought for us. Inside, Azrael asks Chad to go to a restaurant before sitting back in his chair. We settle back into our usual silence as the car pulls out, except this time it's so quiet that I think that Azrael has fallen asleep.
I'm just starting to prepare for another twenty minutes of silence when Azrael talks.
"I'm not asleep, Hogarth. You don't have to be so quiet," he says, turning over to look at me from the window which he had his face directed at.
"Oh, I thought you were," I reply honestly.
"I've noticed that we've had very frequent moments pulled out in a quiet atmosphere," remarks Azrael.
"I like the quiet," I say honestly.
"Well," says Azrael as he shifts in his seat, "I think I will break that silence for a moment. I promised to talk about what you may have seen in my office earlier. And there are some things from the meeting you probably should be aware of."
We ride for a few minutes in silence as Azrael gathers his thoughts. i wait patiently, and he talks again.
"The issue from my office is that I've been invited home for Thanksgiving," he says, "which may not sound as an issue at all, now that I say it to you."
"It does sound rather strange," I admit.
"Do you not get along with your family?" I ask him, and visibly see Azrael tense up.
"I..." starts Azrael, but the word dies in his throat and nothing else is said.
He says the single word in a way that I want to reach out and hold him. Because the way he says it hurts me more than him. I think for a moment and try to find something to say that might help.
"Do you want to come to my family in Texas for Thanksgiving?" I offer, and Azrael immediately relaxes at m offer as he turns to me.
"I wouldn't want to intrude," he says honestly, "and I am your employer. It might make your family uncomfortable as well."
"My family is very welcoming, and I'm pretty sure they'd like to get to know you," I say, "you are more than welcome to attend."
Azrael thinks for a while before answering.
"I'll think about it. But I think I need to tell you about the other topic in need of discussing."
"About the...um...Collection?" I ask as I recall the strange word mentioned.
Azrael is visibly surprised before smiling and nodding.
"Yes. The Collection," says Azrael.
"What is it?" I ask curiously.
"Well," answers Azrael as he leans his head back, "the short story is that the Collection is...a criminal group."
"Are you part of it?" I ask, scared of this new nature of my boss.
"I do not consider myself part of it," says Azrael, "I do not enjoy crime, and have not ever partaken in any of their actions."
"What are their actions?" I ask.
"Before I explain that," says Azrael, "you should know that it's crucial to not talk about this beyond my presence. You should know about the danger of being aware of this topic."
Azrael tilts his head and some light from a passing streetlamp catches in it and leaves a curved line of silver in his grey eyes.
"You can stop now before anything else is divulged. The choice I leave to you," says Azrael calmly.
"I think...I will continue to ask what is it," I say.
It's scary that there is an ominous part of Azrael. But it scares me more that Azrael might be in danger and I wish to be there with him. Maybe to protect him. So I need to know how to protect him.
Azrael nods, then begins to talk again.
"The action of the Collection includes black market activities, illegal research, omission of politically damaging assets to certain politicians in return for political sway through said politician, and other activities that are without any doubt illegal."
"So," I say as I start to get an understanding of this super-entity, "who exactly is in this?"
"Many powerful firms," says Azrael, "not mine. But many others. Politicians as well from the Hill are present in it. Thus the name of 'The Collection'."
"You've stayed out of their actions?" I ask.
"Completely," replies Azrael, "though my just saying that many not mean anything. I ask that you take my word for it, though if things go as they seem they will, you will find that I have been truthful to you. I have not let them pull me into their enterprises."
"Should I be worried for your safety?" I ask seriously.
Azrael is taken back by my question and then answers.
"If you do care for my safety, I will never detest that."
"Then I will make sure to look out for you."
"I am thankful," replies Azrael with his waning smile.
The car stops and we get out at the restaurant we arrived at. the place seems to be a Chinese restaurant. Going in, the smell of spices and cooking food wafts around. A round lady with black short hair and a kind face walks over and talks to Azrael in a language I don't know. Azrael smiles and replies back. In no time we're seated an eating delicious food.
Quite a few of the waiters know Azrael as they walk over and greet him. Some in English and others in the language I don't know. I'll have to ask later what it is. But Azrael smiles and talks to the people happily and his voice that is raised slightly in a the ambient environment gives a different, stronger tone to his voice.
I like it and thinking back, it probably is more likely that somebody as sincere as Azrael was honest when he said that he didn't partake in any of the Collection's actions.
Hopefully, it will continue to be that way. That is, he won't have anything to do with this group that in my opinion sounds rather sinister. And it sounded as if he didn't expect my help and protection, my worry, when I offered it to him.
Observing him now, brought back to life in this restaurant with not a huge presence of the grey pallor of his except in the color of his eyes, I think that I would want to ensure his safety. There's more here than just a boss of a powerful firm. More than just my employer. Not just a person who hired me. I've started to see him more thatn that.
And I wouldn't want to lose him, to anything.