Chapter 23
Matthew Mayfield
The heavy oak door creaked open as I pushed it open slowly.
For a second I thought about turning back but I the twenty eight floors I had passed to come here wasn't really making want to to turn back.
The polished tiles reflected my shoes as I walked into the office. The room smelt of black coffee but mixed with something else.
Something stronger.
Something Expensive.
Something Warmer.
Like cedarwood mixed vanilla and it smelt annoyingly nice.
The scent became stronger as I came into view of him behind his enormous desk, the city sprawled behind him.
Behind it, tall tinted windows running up to the ceiling. I wondered what it would look like from up here at night. The thought was fleeting as my eyes landed on his.
Leaning back in a chair wrapped fully in leather, he looked like a villain from a movie, fully composed. The sunlight caught the sharp angles of his face casting shadows beneath his eyes.
