The Gray Case

eighteen

Alexander is sitting on a black modern couch, his left arm wrapped behind it, bored out of his mind. Ryan keeps his hands busy by fiddling carelessly with little objects around the room.

Anthony is pacing up and down, hands in his pockets and his usual attire: a random dress shirt tucked into a pair of suit pants and a black tie around his neck.

Margaret, on the other hand, is sitting quietly. Her eyes fixated on the blank wall beside her, her blonde hair sleekly tied up and her lips shaped in a frown.

"Things can't go on like this. Lately Mark has been leaving so much work behind and we haven't been closing as much deals. Plus, he looks tired and he doesn't even seem like himself," Anthony says, finally interrupting the silence.

He stops walking and sits down; the armchair producing a faint sound as he does so, his clear eyes drifting from Margaret, to Alexander, to Ryan and then again back to the woman who is now sitting in front of him, a Marc Jacob's black purse on her lap, her hands folded on it.

Ryan puts the mini ball he was playing with back on the table as he watches every one of her mother's movement.

He sees her shifting uncomfortably on the couch and looking around the office with glossy, but dark and opaque eyes.

She tucks a stray strand of hair peeking out of her ponytail behind her ear, fixing her back straighter and now looking at Anthony. "What are we supposed to do?"

Anthony has his forearms placed on his thighs, tiredly laying on the navy colored pants. He sighs, before speaking. "Just stay close to him, that's all."

"And don't you think we're trying to do that? I've always wanted him to be and feel okay," Margaret says, her eyes wide and her voice reaching shakiness.

Anthony nods slowly, turning to Ryan for a split second just to find his face to be unreadable.

"I feel like we need to take a step further. I was thinking about getting him a bodyguard or something like that. Someone who is prepared and can always be there in case something happens," Anthony suggests, looking their way, seeking their approval.

Margaret eyes shoot up. "What? A bodyguard, are you kidding? How can he ever feel like he's living a normal life with a bodyguard following him everywhere? Isn't there any other option?"

She is worried and a slight tremble is heard in her voice as she goes on talking, trying to vainly raise it.

"This is the only way. We have to guarantee his safety. The police has no concrete evidence and can't do anything. Until they have real evidence, his safety is the most important thing," Anthony replies, looking down at his feet. His left one quickly tapping on the brown parquet while Alexander shakes his head.

"This is bullshit. Basically we are the only crazy ones that think that my dad is at risk, aren't we? The police isn't doing anything, while my dad has been through this three times. The first time it went on the news he was completely alone, it wasn't a fucking coincidence! We are just lucky because evidently, the person behind this is a terrible shooter. If this weren't the case my dad would have been already dead."

Alexander is now standing up, his hands clenched in a fist, the veins in his neck pulsing but his mind trying to rationalize, to keep calm.

Ryan shifts on his chair and looks away, his hands timidly reaching for something to grab. He gulps and remains silent.

"They are working on it. It's hard when nobody has seen or heard anything. But right now, all we are supposed to do is ensure his safety and a bodyguard would be a great option. I will personally find someone for Mark, hiring is not going to be a problem."