A Lover Scorned

Chapter 3

Connor gently tucks the creases out of his tie. He fixes his short, black, spikey hair with gel; adjusts his glasses and glance at his watch. It's time to go to work. He finishes his coffee with one last gulp, and grabs his briefcase from where it was resting on the desk, underneath the contemporary painting. He absolutely loves this painting. After all, it's the only thing he has left from his mother. Thinking of his mother, he pulls out his phone while he walks down to the bus station. It's Celine's birthday. He dials the number, and after the usual five rings, she finally answers. "Hi, Sis! Another year older already? Have you spotted any wrinkles yet?" he says jokingly. "Ha ha ha, so funny. Look who's talking" she responds. Even over the phone, her energy is indescribable. As kids, he used to say that his sister should have been a Disney princess. She constantly has a dance in her step and a song-like nature to her voice. She never let's anyone push her around. He has always admired that about her. "So, how is your plan coming along? Are you ok? Is anyone suspecting anything?" Connor can hear the worry in her voice. "I am fine. No one suspects a thing. I have been working there now for about 5 weeks. Here is what I know so far, apparently the affair began four months after Stacy had started working at XtaC. As far as-" he is cut off by Celine "I thought you were going to leave the rumours behind?! Remember why you are there! Don't get caught up in the past. Remember what Mama use to say? The past is like a snake, napping under a rock; it's good that you know it's there, but if you dig for it, you will just end up getting hurt." Connor sighs, "Of course, the financials are in order. A 'community support project' has been set up and funds are being paid into it periodically. I am still sure that Xavier has completely forgotten about it. Everything is set up. And, just to remind you, most of what Mama said barely ever made any sense." he couldn't help but smile "Doesn't mean that it wasn't true. So, why don't you get out now? Why stay?" Celine keeps pushing. Connor can feel the agitation bubbling up within. "I will say when I am done! Anyway, I have to go" with that he ends the phone call, slips the phone in his pocket and gets on the bus. 

Thirty minutes later, Connor steps into the elevator. "Hold the door!" he hears someone call out. He quickly stops the sliding doors. A beautiful, blond woman with blood, red lips steps in. Her smile was made for a toothpaste advertisement. "Thanks!" comes the chipper voice. Her long, tan legs makes her skirt appear even shorter. Connor remains quiet. "I am Stacy, you are the new guy, right? The one in financial?" she asks. Connor nods. "You intrigue me, Mr. Connor Wright. I wouldn't mind at all to get to know you better." she says softly. "Are you always this direct?" Connor responds with a straight face. "Well, I do think it's the best way of communication." Stacy replies, smiling. The elevator doors open. "Well, you are not my type" Connor says, bluntly, as he steps out. 

He makes his way to his cubicle. Connor quickly logs on the wire transfers to check on the progress. He manipulated the algorithm to send two percent of the community support account (marked as transfer fees) into an off shore bank account. It might not sound like much, but calculated on a couple million dollars that the company pays into that account annually, it's a decent figure to qualify for embezzlement. He exits the program and print out the daily sales reports of his allocated departments for the morning meeting. "Hey! Connor!" A burly man, with an army styled haircut, waves at him. Connor takes his seat next to the man. "Good morning, Gary" he greets the man monotonically. "Dude, you seriously have to get some. You seem stressed" Gary chuckles at his own statement. "I am sure there are a few ladies around here, who would love to be with a handsome, baby face, like yourself!" Connor scoffs. The only reason this man next to him is always relaxed, is because he is on something every other Saturday, when he passes his time in gentlemen's clubs. The meeting starts and Connor let's his mind wander back to the phone call from this morning. He feels bad for snapping at his sister, it is after all her birthday. He makes a note, to later, look for something on sss to have delivered to her. The rest of the day passes by quite smoothly. Connor processes the necessary paperwork, takes his lunch at the café as usual, and heads home at 5pm. His day runs like clockwork. Predictable. Exactly how he prefers it. No more surprises.

Connor looks around his apartment. It's so quiet here. Maybe, he should get a dog. He walks over to the fridge and takes out a beer. He loosens his tie, uncaps the beer and take a sip. He can feel the cold liquid running through his body. Five flights of stairs to his apartment can take it's toll some days. He falls back on the couch and switches on the tv. While it is blaring some kind of celebrity gossip, he flicks through his directory for the Red Dragons' number. He is not in the mood to cook, so it looks like Chinese take out for dinner. As he is about to dial the number, there is a knock on his door. He lowers the volume on the tv. That's strange, he thinks, he has never had guests before. He doesn't even have any friends. He puts the beer down and opens the door slowly. In front of him, holding two bags of Red Dragon Chinese take out, is the last person, he thought, he would see.