Blaire walked over to the sitting area that the woman had motioned to just moments before. After a moments thought she chose the chair that gave her the best view of the room. It was a black chair that had the look of being quite a nice set at one point but then through years of use found itself a bit shabby around the edges. She leaned back into the chair, one arm draped over the side of the chair, the other used to prop her head up.

She took in the room. Tension it seemed was high, and something clearly had the young secretary completely on edge. Watching as the woman fought not to let the fear that even a blind man would notice, she also noticed other things about the room. The simple yet bold clock, the white blinds, open at the moment, that covers the windows, the grey toned walls. Even the floor, a tiled floor pattern of black and white, was completely simple and yet definitely designed by a man, she decided.

A crash overhead made the woman at the counter jump, and stall in progress. The thought of whatever was upstairs clearly had the woman scared shitless. Blaire wondered what could have caused such fear to be instilled in the young, yet competent looking woman. Her moments of guesswork where soon brought to an end when a man’s voice came growling down the stairs. This was soon followed by the man himself. She took in his appearance, making mental notes that she filed away in her head. Something about the man looked tough, dangerous. He was like the villain in a cinema show. He also looked extremely confidant that he owned whatever person crossed his path. Blaire didn’t like him from the moment she saw him, and thought in that moment that she hoped to never cross path’s with the man.

She heard the conversation over the intercom had caused the secretary, whose name Blaire now knew was June, to shut down even further, but she told Blaire where to go none the less. Blaire thanked the woman now shuffling through papers with a rather drained look in her eyes before heading up the staircase. The second floor was more of the same grey walls with a few of the same black chairs dotted along in area’s along the long hall. She read the numbers as she passed them, finally reaching office 225 without much trouble. The door in front of her had a glass window with the name Jeffery Clestorn written in block letters across it.

She knocked on the door once before coming into the inner office. She immediately took in the look of the inner office. It was clear from a moments glance what the crash had been. The lamp which was on the desk was currently turned off, but it had a sort of broken feel to it, and bits of broken glass still littered the dust colors carpet floor. Looking at the man she spoke to him in a strong business like manner, “Mr. Clestorn, I am Vincent Maroni, I’m here to sign the papers for the office space in the Dukes Gin”