❝Michael Freeman, C.O.O. of Connolly Computing. Nice to meet you. Might be able to convince my secretary to pencil you in for that presentation, but I can't guarantee it. Anyway, I'm late to meet Dick Costolo for coffee. Out of my office.❞
Flash back to the previous afternoon, and if you were there, you were bound to have
heard Connolly complaining to his secretary about how he was sure he brought his phone to work with him, and how he couldn’t have possibly left it at home. That phone is, sadly, now sitting silenced in Danny’s jacket pocket; although it’s not so sad for the man who took it, as opposed to the one who now finds it missing.
Well…Better to be safe than sorry, after all.
It wouldn’t do to have his cover blown by someone who’s got way too many suspicions circling round in his head. And it’s nothing that a little sleight of hand couldn’t have taken care of.
❝Yeah, so I’ve heard. You’re more than welcome to tag along, if y’think he won’t send ya packin’ as soon as he sees ya. It’s private business, after all. Seein’ as I’ve been sent over here t’deal with the CEO, an’ not— …Well, you. But, like I said, feel free to tag along.❞
A straight-up denial would have raised alarm bells, and he can’t be dealing with that.
TEXT TO :: Peter Connolly ::
That Douglas character says you’re meeting across town. Don’t trust him much. You sure about this?
’ Don’t let his title fool you. It’s just fancy talk for “Big Baby Who Makes Lots of Money," I assure you. ’
Needless to say, he’s more than bitter about what went down between his ex-wife and his boss. He makes it extremely evident in everything that comes out of his mouth about him.
But, nah, there really isn’t much of a point for him to tag along. He’s got business to attend to back at the office anyway. And by business, he means making eyes at that one hot female intern who just earned sucked her way through college.
Hey, she was legal. Might be frowned upon, but: legal.
❝A degree helps, but s’not necessary. Got mine in computer sciences at Cambridge. Course, all the formal trainin’ happens on th’job, so—❞
He makes a vague gesture with his hand as he allows his sentence to trail off. That hand then comes to rest on top of the envelope, before his fingers tap out an idle rhythm. It’s nothing recognisable, just a simple tune that he’d heard on that radio that morning.
Michael’s looking again, and oh, he hopes the subject comes up soon. It’ll really give him a chance to have some fun with this.
❝Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for sittin’ an’ answerin’ questions, but I’ve got a meetin’ with Connolly in an hour and a half. He’s across town, so I’ve gotta make my way there.❞
He only knows that because he made a call to the man’s secretary that morning, just to double-check where he’d actually be in case questions arose. And questions would likely arise if he were spotted in the building, which is where he plans to be after most of the employees have gone home.
❝You’ve got nothin’ important to ask, right?❞
’ What a shame. ’
He’s tempted to text Connolly right then and ask him if he’s expecting Mr. Douglas anytime soon.
He shifts to pull his phone from his pocket, and, ah, well, too late now. He scrolls through his contacts slowly, purposely taking his time. If he was really going where he said he was, there wouldn’t be any harm done, would there?
Why is he so suspicious? He accounts it to a gut feeling. He always goes with gut feelings.
’ Maybe he’d want me to tag along. Connolly usually has me around during meetings anyway, since I know more about his damn business than he does. ’
It’s unfortunate for Michael that his sunglasses are only slightly tinted, and therefore allow a very limited view of his eyes to anyone who’s really trying to get a good look at them.
And Danny is.
The glance towards the envelope is subtle, and would have been almost imperceptible had he not been waiting for it. In his line of work, it pays to be able to notice the subtle tells that people’s faces make. It’s like poker; and he’s bloody well good at poker.
Hook.
Line.
And sinker.
❝Like I said before, all I’m ‘ere to do is do some basics checks. How the company handles its business, yada yada yada, blah blah blah. You get the gist.❞
In a carefully calculated move made to look like the action of a man who’s got something to hide, Danny’s hand moves to inch the envelope just a little closer to himself, further out of Michael’s reach.
❝Sorry, Michael. Got y’self all curious for nothin’.❞
Yada yada yada, blah blah blah?
Doesn’t sound like someone who takes their job very seriously. There’s the crack of many he’s been looking for.
Or maybe he’s just grasping at straws.
’ Did I? Are there any educational requirements for a man in your line of work? ’
Oh, his eyes are prying over that envelope again. What’s the problem? Something to hide?
