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Chapter Text

Sometimes it’s a wonder that he doesn’t get dizzy from the view. 

Malcolm Reed, Chief Strategic Officer of SafeHaven Solutions, looks out at the panoramic view offered by his floor-to-ceiling windows. The cars and people on the bustling streets of New York City remind him of blood cells pumping through veins, ever-working to keep the body alive and moving. When he had first arrived in New York, it had taken him a few months to adjust to the city’s pace and brusque personality, but he eventually found that he liked the way people tended to keep to themselves for the most part. Being a private man, himself, it’s an oddly comforting thought to know that most of the population in this city couldn’t care less about his personal business.

He glances around the interior of his office, noting the framed certificates and accolades that showcase his accomplishments before and during his time at TrekSafe Solutions. Although he prefers being out on the field, he can’t deny the plush comfortability of having an executive position, even if it means that he is confined to an office building. But he’d made sure that his office was bearable, since he would be spending the majority of his time here. The color scheme is predominantly neutral, with tones of muted blues and grays, creating a professional and calming ambiance. 

His assistant, Elizabeth Cutler, had taken it upon herself last night to hang up some garland and white lights around the room. But he can’t be mad at her: it looks like an office straight out of an interior design magazine. Even the most holiday-averse person would have to admit that the lights added a warm, fashionable glow, even against the recessed lighting that highlighted the polished surfaces of the cherry-wood furniture.

What had surprised him the most this morning, however, was finding that the large executive desk taking center stage had been tastefully adorned with green garland white lights, complete with matte bronze and silver glass ball ornaments. 

A knock on his door makes him turn around. “Come in,” he calls. 

Elizabeth Cutler, his assistant, steps inside. She wears her bell necklace and candy cane earrings, just toeing the dress-code policy like always. 

“Good morning! Happy December first!”

“It’s just another day,” Malcolm replies with a small smile. “I’m honestly surprised it took you this long to decorate my office. I’d half-expected you to sneak in here on Thanksgiving.”

“I haven’t allowed your Scrooginess to get to me in all these years and I’m not about to start now,” Elizabeth replies lightly. “Besides, I was out of town on Thanksgiving.”

Malcolm places his hand on his chest and feels genuinely insulted. “I’m not a Scrooge!” While it’s true that he separated holidays from the workplace, aside from the holiday parties and occasional festive tie, he can’t remember a time when he’d acted like the Dickens character pre-ghost visits.

“You tend to complain more during the holidays,” Elizabeth comments wryly as she walks over to the desk and places some papers down. 

“That’s because most of the people I interact with are more insufferable with their entitlement than usual!” He defends incredulously. 

“That’s what I’m saying!” Elizabeth obviously finds this funny, given her amused grin. “Part of Christmas is being forgiving and patient. So have more patience with stubborn people, and then we’ll talk. Besides, you hardly have any personal touches! And no,” she cuts Malcolm off when he opens his mouth to argue, “your certificates and awards don’t count.”

“I have artwork hanging up that I like,” he mutters petulantly. He even has a framed picture of his parents on one side of his desk and a framed picture of his sister, Madeline, on the other.

“And yet nothing to show off your interests. Nothing to hint at sports, hobbies… The poor clients who come in here for a meeting and try to find something in common with you are always left floundering, and how can they charm their way through a meeting like that?”

Malcolm rolls his eyes and Elizabeth swats his arm playfully. “Now,” she begins, pointing to the papers with a bright red and white-striped finger nail, “you have a video conference with Roger Burr at 8:30 AM our time, 12:30 PM his time. Then you have to finish writing that reference letter for the intern, and the rest of your day is filled with follow-up calls.”

“So Jake has decided to go for the program after all?” Malcolm smiles fondly. “Good for him.” The company provides a two-year program for people who want to be trained in the security sector. Jake had interned during the summer, fresh out of college, and Malcolm saw a lot of potential in the young man. 

“Yes, I think you inspired him. Although, he seems more inclined to go for the training division instead of the office life.” Elizabeth opens the door to leave but stops and says over her shoulder, “Oh, and Mr. Forrest wants to see you at one o’clock.”

Malcolm feels a little bit of acid form in his throat. “What!? Why didn’t you mention that sooner?”

“It’s more fun this way.” With an innocent smile, Elizabeth shuts the door and leaves Malcolm to his doom. 

He slumps down in his ergonomic chair and sighs. All of the wind in his sails this morning is now gone, and as he goes on with his day, he tries to get the momentum back. He’d woken up unusually optimistic, feeling like today was going to be an especially good day. And it had gone smoothly up until Elizabeth dropped that bombshell. The meeting with Mr. Forrest looms over him like a dark cloud.