CATCHING ASHTON (on hold)

Part 1 : Finn

The room was opulent.

Opulent. It was a word that I never thought I would use. Nor that I would imagine being inside of one.

And I still didn't know why I was called to the CEO office of the bank that my dad had owed a gargantuan amount of debt that I just found out after he died.

Everything about this room was ridiculously grandeur. The focal point of the office is a massive mahogany desk, intricately carved with traditional patterns and finished to perfection. Behind it is a high-back leather seat upholstered in dark blue velvet with a regal appearance.

One wall is dominated by floor-to-ceiling windows that offer stunning panoramic views of the city skyline, shining the space with soft, natural light as it was still early in the morning. Next to the window is a beautiful conference table made of the same polished mahogany, which could comfortably seat ten people, with high-back chairs, also upholstered in matching dark blue velvet. A crystal chandelier hangs above the conference table, and I was certain that the chandelier alone probably cost more than the price of the year's rent of my apartment.

I had been waiting for ten minutes, repeatedly smoothing my pants and straightening my tie countless times, feeling self-conscious in my cheap clothes that were utterly out of place in such a lavish setting. Each passing second intensified my awareness of how out of my league I felt in this environment, where every detail reflected the wealth and status of its occupant.

And the said occupant had just burst through the door, making me leap from my chair so abruptly and spun around.

"Sorry I made you wait." A very tall man in mid or late forties, wearing a three-piece suit in dark grey color and sporting a dark hair with streaks of silver that oddly matched his outfit. "The meeting went too long I could not get away." He eyed me standing awkwardly as he took the seat across from me and made a gesture with his hand. "Please, have a seat, Finnegan."

"Thank you, Mr. Loxley," I mumbled, dropping back into the seat. "If you could explain why I am here—"

"Ah, yes." He tugged at his suit to straighten it. "Straight to the point, aren't you?" He chuckled. "Would you like something to drink?" I shook my head. "You sure? We have coffee, tea, sparkling water, gin, vodka, beer, you name it." I shook my head again.

He pressed a button on the desk phone, and a woman's voice came through the speaker. "Yes, Mr. Loxley?"

"I'd like a coffee, please," he told her. "And a tea for the fine gentleman who's been waiting for me." He disregarded my earlier refusal.

"Certainly, Mr. Loxley, I'll bring it to your office."

"Thanks, Elaine." He turned his attention to me with a knowing smile. "You look nervous. You'll need the tea."

"Thank you." That was all I could say.

"Now." He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk. "How are you hanging on? Victor died a week... two weeks ago?"

"Two weeks." I nodded, feeling the back of my neck starting to sweat.

"I'm sorry I couldn't come." He said, why he wanted to come I had no fucking idea. I didn't even know my dad knew someone like Abraham Loxley. "I just found out about him passing three days ago."

"You know my dad?" I asked.

"Yes. We went to college together." He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. When I kept staring at him in bewilderment because how the fuck someone who had a background and social status like him went to the same school with my broke ass father, he asked. "He never told you?"