This was certainly different to what she was accustomed to, and it was exciting, dammit. She couldn’t deny it. There was something palpable in the air, and while she couldn’t name what it was, she had this feeling like those cold mornings when you can hear the wind and rain howling, and you’re snuggled up with a hot chocolate on the sofa with a comfortable duvet, and then you realise you need the bathroom. Yes. It wasn’t unlike that, that comfort and discomfort all rolled into one. She cleared her throat ready to knuckle down.
Aside from Cuddle’s voice - molasses and bourbon - catching her off-guard, amusement pulled at the edge of her mouth as she watched the exchange between the men. Testosterone wars were something else here, it seemed, and if it remained as casual as this, she could get used to it. She eyed ‘Jitters’ (a much better name! She and the big fella would get along nicely), before Cora realised instantly just how horrifically out of her depth she was here. She managed clients, not the world. She managed expectations in transactions and customised contracts for mutual benefit. She wore pinstripes and stilettos, and drove revenue and margin higher whilst delivering a service. But that service was exemplary, as per client requirement, and she’d be damned if this business meeting would the get the better of her so soon.
She listened intently, running a few paces behind, but grasping at the tidbits of information as they fell across the tabletop from the American. Attacks… Ryder… Rogue faction… It swirled in Cora’s head as she took in the gravity of his words.
She’d known Ryder as a company for a while. They weren’t remotely similar to IGT, in that they were a fossil as much as the fuels they harvested, and it was at Mara’s insistence that Cora had begun to read up on case files and budget reports and asset liquidation beneficiaries in the case the company finally rolled over and called it a day. They were in such an unstable state of affairs that Cora had shied away from the project, reluctant to back Mara’s belief that they could turn around into anything resembling ‘eco-friendly’ - this was a company that had bastardised the Caspian Sea basin and made Azerbaijan the weak adversary it was now in the export game. Ryder had nothing left to offer in terms of moral stability, and being run into the ground by a total Neanderthal certainly hadn’t been a golden egg worth chasing. But then, why was Mara still intent on it? And why were people being attacked? Was it being close to a floundering company, or just a statement being made? Her attention was caught now and she listened on.
She saw the genuine concern colour Jitters, and she smiled weakly, but warmly. It hadn’t dawned on her at first, that she was involved in this now. It hadn’t hit home what they were saying that someone getting close to Ryder was in the line of fire from whoever was behind this. It could have so easily been her, and then what? Her heart fluttered momentarily, but the comfortable strength in the room settled her again in an instant. She turned from the apprehensive younger male back to the bear opposite her.
She bristled, and wondered at whether to hold her tongue as he suggested only the Wyr would work the case. If Ryder really was going to be taken on by the Civilian arm for acquisition, that was a huge percentage of the workforce dropped from a case larger than any she’d seen in the recent years, and more and more non-Wyr were being taken on. From personal experience alone, she knew she was more than a pen-pusher. She leaned forward slightly to interject, “With all due respect, sir, this is an arm of predominantly non-Wyr, and I speak from the front line. You’re dealing with a company of non-Wyr, and they’re reluctant to deal with Wyr in clean business already.”
It was here that Alexander stepped in. She listened to his words, to how he showed concern for other companies, and swivelled her head to Carl as he continued Alexander’s meaning to a conclusion. She breathed out slowly, allowing the weight of what they knew to settle over her.
This wasn’t just a business deal going awry. This had the potential to become a coordinated attack, and the byproduct was an already sketchy opinion being tarnished even more. Cora knew what that meant. Humans waged wars on each other over far less. Humans were distrusting of the mythology that surrounded the Wyr, and it was a powder keg in the making. The thought saddened Cora for a moment. She’d held them in such high regard, seen them almost as the enigma to be understood and admired. But not everyone shared that opinion, and she’d defended herself against sly remarks and insinuations from people before for her associations. She looked back to Alexander and regarded him for a silent moment before the movement caught her focus.
A long, inked arm slid before her silently, and time seemed to slow to a halt as she heard his offering, and took in the black coffee, the hand that belonged to none of the four she knew to be in the room, and continued to take in a shocking amount of the stranger. It doubtlessly looked hilarious to an onlooker as her gaze roamed up past the elbow, over the perfectly formed bicep, the soft curve of a shoulder, the angle of his jaw, lazy smile, his feline eyes, and the messy hair that finished the image. Her head craned up to him, her mouth fell slightly open, before flight took hold, and she scrabbled out of the chair and a few paces back, catching the chair for balance more easily than she caught her breath.
“Sweet fucking Jesus,” she uttered, still agape at the entirely naked male as he moved around the table. She remained fast at the side of the chair, her knuckles almost white as they cramped from gripping it. Eyes up, eyes up became her mantra as she watched him unfalteringly. She should have apologised, should have sat down,. Should never have lost her nerve at all, but this was something else entirely. This was a naked man from nowhere. Placing a silent cup of coffee before her. Exquisite, but totally fucking naked. She mouthed silently before the words found her.
“The cat,” she whispered, “you…” She glanced around the unfazed men, aghast, flushed, and utterly out of her depth. Would they all be naked? Would they expect her to be? Were they usually naked? Oh good grief, was Mara normally naked? Her head spun with questions she didn’t need answering in any lifetime, and she managed a strangled “Thank you” in response to the coffee - she hoped not the floorshow? - and slinked back into her chair, maintaining eye contact as best she could so as not to show any more ineptitude than she already had. Though a brief “Jesus fucking Christ” did fall out of her as she pulled the coffee closer. “Sorry. Sorry, that was just a bit… of a shock.”
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