Re: Bench near the pool table: Michael C & Reece E
To be fair, to say that professional success didn't fill the hole of a gapingly empty private life is both premature and presumptuous. Or so Reece would have thought. He fully and eagerly expected his professional success to fill the hole of his gapingly empty private life, and he knew it would. Because it was what he wanted and because he didn't lack for ambition. It wasn't as sharp-edged as it should have been—that ambition—it didn't grow, feeding on blood of those left in its wake, but he couldn't do anything about that, not really. At least, not right now. He needed the project to take off—he needed the AI stuck in his skull, and then he would worry about that, but that was his ticket. So, let's not go around making these general statements. After all, Michael was a scientist, yes, and Reece was a company man. Maybe Michael needed... books or a not-dead dead woman to fill the hole of his gapingly empty private life, but Reece just needed some goddamn cash and a nice helping of that professional success. He needed to be at the top of the food chain. That was all. Simple.
But, again, that said, it was a constant struggle—against--well, against himself. And though it could be argued that it was in his best interest to get Michael working on the project again, this meeting wasn't about that. This meeting was Reece practically shooting himself in the foot, because, not only did he try to warn off Clementine (for her own good), he was here telling Michael. And if there was any lesson to be learned in the corporate world, it was keep your secrets. Keep them or they will be used against you.—But, what else could he do? The warning wasn't meant to sound like... a threat.
Reece watched his colleague closely, eyes on the man's face as he spoke about his wife, as he appeared crestfallen, when the woman had told him—as Michael repeated now—she wanted nothing to do with the man pronounced her husband. And, oh, that was awkward. It was like that gapingly empty hole regurgitated the few bits thrown in to fill it.
"I don't think you understand either. Your word—it's not going to mean much. You're her husband. If you tell Dane, oh, don't worry about it, do you think he's going to drop it? Listen, I told him I took care of it. I told him she wouldn't be a problem—my word doesn't mean much than yours, but I'm hoping he'll buy it for now." He sighed, his life feeling like it was growing more and more complicated by the minute.—He felt Michael's eyes on his arm, because the weight of that look was something Reece knew well, just as well as he'd known the look of confusion that used to pass at the lack of arm. But, he moved past it without a word.
Still, there was something in the way Michael asked him 'was someone in the room' that told him to shut up about it.
"Um—I didn't actually spend that long looking. But, I did see your computer. In fact, I got as many pieces as I could, but I haven't been able to get anything off of it." And that was his job. He sighed again. "The point being, I really hope you have copies somewhere."