Back straight, chest out, head held high. That was the posture speaking of calm confidence accentuated by eyes like lakes of sapphires that the woman who arrived displayed. She did not flinch at the eyes that turned to her, whether at the main table, or at the seats lining up the walls on the sides.
Then her eyes fell on the one at the head of the conference table, and all the battle-readiness she had mustered to face the serious situation suddenly seemed like wasted effort. She had to stop herself from showing a crack in her composure, something she almost lost when that man the same age as her raised his brown eyes to her, casual, totally unlike her, and smiled in pleasant surprise.
"Sharon! You are here!"
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_ _ _
The conference room was abuzz, but with deliberately suppressed activity, with most of the attention focused on the figure seated at the head of the conference table. He was objectively the youngest in the room, at least at the table, if the shadow trying to make himself small behind him was ignored.
Alex could focus on his phone as he played a game to pass the time, so leisurely as he leaned back on his seat that he was just short of raising his feet up to rest them on the table. He could ignore all the attention from the directors at the table with him. He could also ignore the gazes along the walls sliding over to him from time to time after failing to keep the professional, dignified looks expected in the serious setting. But standing behind him, Lance had to struggle not to hunch his shoulders and make himself as thin as paper, and as small as an ant just to avoid all of those.
Especially nerve-wracking for him was the gaze that never fell on him after the first time he stepped into the room with Alex, but which could do so again at any moment, worse yet, with questions, expectation, approval, or just calm. From time to time, he sneaked glances at the source of his uneasiness, at the blond, more mature version of himself with less soft features at the table with the other directors.
Then, he swept his gaze over the rest of the seated directors, and cursed them as crafty, deep, bottomless-minded old foxes in the privacy of his thoughts, his father included.
Most would have already been displaying thunderous anger after they had been left hanging for hours on end, then called for a meeting at last, only to be made to wait by someone decades their junior showing them barely any respect and forced to spectate as he played with his phone before them. But aml the faces at the table remained inscrutable, none showing anything like anger, impatience, or even a flicker of dissatisfaction.
Everyone looked inscrutable, making it impossible for Lance to pick up any clue on their thoughts. But that was what made the seemingly innocuous tension thicker, more suffocating, and he wished he did not have to keep suffering from it.
He glanced at Alex, envious of the composure the latter was able to keep under the stressful situation. He wished he could be like that too, that he could lead too, but that desire only flashed through his heart. He leaned down to whisper a question at Alex's ear, his heart full of hope.
"Say, Alex, can you take things seriously and finally get on with the meeting? You might not care, but the atmosphere is killing me."
Alex didn't even take his eyes off the screen of his phone as he offhandedly replied:
"Why are you fretting? Everyone here is magnanimous. Nobody will find fault with me for something as petty as a little bit of wasted time. At worst, my uncles will speak up for me. Don't worry."
The answer, instead of being spoken in the same soft whisper as the question, was said for everyone to hear. And with casual words, he pulled his impassive uncles up as a shield for himself, paving the way for them to go up against the rest of the directors.
Alex's uncaring but sharp attitude made Lance's lips twitch, and he subtly raised his gaze to survey the scene in search of anyone whose anger had passed the threshold of tolerance. And even though he found no one responding to the criterion, his heart only sank further. He could only brace himself and try to plead further in a low voice:
"Hey, Alex…"
Lance hesitated, unsure of what to say. He knew Alex enough after two decades to understand how difficult his mind could be to stir under his casual appearance.
*Brrr*
As the words eluded Lance, Alex's phone vibrated. An interlude in the game he was playing finally allowed him the leisure to take his eyes away from his phone, and reconnect with reality. He glanced sideways at his friend, then swept his eyes over the rest of the crowd present in the room. Then he smiled at everyone, the gesture genuine like he was facing friends:
"Sorry everyone, for delaying the start of what brought us together. As the new chairperson of the Group, even though only for the time being, forgive me for being unable to get things started without my assistant present by my side. We will have to keep waiting for a while, but she should be here soon. Everyone, please bear with me some more."
His calm smile was so genuine that it made his words full of truthfulness, without any hint of falsehood, of insincerity.
Then, without waiting for an answer, he pulled his gaze back, returned his gaze to his phone to resume playing his game.
Alex's reaction, gotten after much prodding, did nothing to relieve and reassure Lance. Was he extinguishing the fire or was he fanning the flames?
The bitterness under his facade grew like an infinitely evolving unsolvable equation, as he felt himself being swallowed by a sea of misery. Fortunately, before he could drown inside, before he could die of suffocation, he was saved by a breath of fresh air, he was by the angel who pushed open the door to the conference room as the light shone on her.
Even Alex's voice felt heavenly at that moment as he raised his eyes from his phone, and exclaimed with a bright smile:
"Sharon! You are here!"