"Thanks," Zach said, feeling the coolness from Susan's charm radiating from his neck down. It was a relief. "It'll hold me at least until I can unbutton my collar and take off this coat and tie."
He tipped his head to the side, looking down at Susan. She was relentlessly optimistic, it seemed, and if she had been anyone other than one of his oldest friends, he wouldn't put up with it. He wouldn't have her any other way, however, so he just nodded.
"I think I've provided enough tabloid fodder for several lifetimes. I don't feel so young these days. Peace sounds preferable."
There had been a time when Zach, angry about what had been done to him and the curse he had to live with, and fatalistic enough not to care about consequences, had thrown himself into indulging himself in every way possible- drink, women, all sorts of hedonism. It had gotten worse when he'd been sacked from the Falcons. He'd certainly had a time of it in the States. But eventually he'd tired of it. It wasn't gaining him anything, and he was as lonely surrounded by people as he was isolated in Cornwall. At least now he was being productive. He didn't know if he would ever be peaceful again, though. His inner turmoil never seemed to quiet.
"That sounds really good, Susan," Zach said, impulsively leaning down to kiss the top of her head. She was a ray of sunshine in what was already proving to be a trying day. "Give me an hour."
He dashed off, moving with more speed than he might have shown in broad daylight if he hadn't been running late. The meeting was a dreadful bore, gathering reports from the quidditch shop proprietor about the sales figures for the Infinity II and feedback from his customers. Zach went over sales talking points and enhanced features, and promised to report everything back to his bosses. He tried to get through it as quickly as possible, though he barely heard most of what the shop owner said. He was too distracted, hungry and full of sensory overload. The birds outside were too loud, the man's heartbeat was too loud, the noise of the customers downstairs was too loud. Finally Zach managed to free himself, shaking the owner's sweaty hand and trying to ignore the pulse beat in the man's neck. Zach didn't like this kowtowing kiss-arse of a man, wanted him out of his presence- and his inner beast wanted to oblige him. It was too damned close to the full moon to be out and about like this. And people wondered why Zacharias Smith was known as a grouch. He escaped without offending anyone, and counted it a victory.
Zach found the coffee shop without much trouble, tugging the tie from around his own neck as he strode over. Unbuttoning the top two buttons on his shirt, he wondered if they had any sort of meat available in the shop. Probably not. He ordered nearly their entire case of pastries, a large and steaming black coffee, and settled in at a corner table to wait for Susan to join him.