Page 43 of Cold Winter Nights

He dreaded going back to his cabin and climbing into a bed that smelled like Royal but lacked his body heat. When he walked into his home there’d be silence, loneliness, and the frigidness of a cold winter’s night.

Royal

The windows of Global Crown’s building reflected back a distraught, stressed version of the man he’d run away from. Royal’s footsteps echoed in the marble and chrome atrium from his uncomfortable Dior dress shoes, and the expensive suit he wore now felt like a straitjacket.

He used to blend into this place with everyone else, but he felt more alien than ever.

If he’d been in Windeville, he’d have been in the kitchen with Myra, helping her prepare hot meals and cocoa for the people working tirelessly to clean up their town. Instead Royal was back in the trenches of a concrete jungle that was damn near impossible to escape once, never mind twice.

I have to hurry and get back home.

Royal halted mid-step.

Yep, he’d said home. Windeville was home. Bo, was home. And Mrs. Pearl with her warm smile, and Myra’s cooking infused with soul and love. Even Jojo and Brissy with their infectious energy and loud jokes that never ceased to bring a smile to his face. All who’d cared for him and welcomed him, especially the ones who knew and adored his parents. They were allhome.

The lobby of Global Crown was designed to impress, but all did was make Royal feel sick to his stomach. Every corner heturned he could feel his reconnection to real life, and his sanity, slipping further and further away.

A man had died because of Royal’s decisions, and no one had cared. His bosses and colleagues had brushed it off as collateral damage.

He’d carried the guilt like a weighted blanket draped over his shoulders. However, Royal was a changed man…he didn’t belong here.

Royal was captive in a building with greedy, egotistical, self-serving, pompous assholes who looked down on the rest of the world from their glass tower as if they were gods.

As he stepped off the elevator on the sixty-fourth floor the hum of activity was depressing to hear, especially for a fucking Saturday.

He attempted to take a deep breath but he could already feel the pressure building in his chest. He’d known he was suffocating in Manhattan but hadn’t realized just how much until he’d taken his first breath of the crisp, clean air in a small town nestled in the mountains.

He cleared the lobby and saw a steady parade of executive assistants and secretaries walking back and forth, arms laden with files, focused on assigned tasks, or adding their boss’s next stock purchase into the queue to hit Monday at 9:30 a.m. ET sharp.

Royal was met with a flurry of people once he reached the area of offices lining the perimeter and the maze of countless cubicles in the center.

“Royal!”

It was Mark, one of the senior analysts. “Oh, man, am I glad to see you. So, I’ve been watching this stock recommended by Jacobs, Sun Systems, I know you’ve heard of it.”

Royal stared at Mark as if he’d grown horns since he’d been gone.

“Do you think it’s a good time to buy now? It’s up eight-point-four after the connection. It’s got good potential right?”

“Get out of my goddamn face, Mark,” Royal growled, shoulder-checking him as he barged past him.

“Then fuck you,” Mark tossed back.

Royal had been hoping everyone would be too consumed with themselves and no one would notice him but he’d had no such luck, because people began to flock to him like bees to a honeysuckle.

“Royal! Hey man.” Greg, one of the senior traders, stopped so fast when he saw him, the woman walking behind slammed into him.

He was wearing a three-piece blue pinstriped suit, on aSaturday. “How’s your weekend going?”

As if Royal hadn’t been gone for weeks. Greg hadn’t even noticed his absence.

“What the fu…” Royal gaped.

“Have you seen Veridian Tech? They’re up fifteen percent, but I’m thinking of shorting it. What do you think? Pull the trigger…yay…nay.” Greg squinted.

“Do whatever the hell you want,” Royal grumbled, shoving past him too.

“Hey, Royal! Am I glad to see you,” Lisa called out from across the room. Her booming voice sounded like a fog horn warning ships of her arrival. And if her voice wasn’t enough to command attention, her long, platinum blonde hair and fifteen-millimeter, spider-like lashes would do it.

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