The Painting

#75 Ego Part 1 - Ego Cuid 1

Monroe's father in law. He stood facing the door and as he buttoned his jacket his frail finger shook. On his arm a younger woman with straight blond hair reached over to help with his buttons but he batted her away.

His wife or Monroe's? It occurred to me that I'd never seen a photograph of Monroe's wife. Did he love her? How could one woman put up with his manipulative calculability for all this time? Should I pity her or would she pity me?

I was about to dive deeper into that thought when I literally ran into Lyle. A hint of surprised graced her otherwise expectant features. She knew how my curiosity ruled me.

The crowd grew louder as Monroe stopped at the conference room door and shook himself of the posse. "We need to go." She tugged at my arm as her momentum carried her back the way I'd come.

I didn't move. "I need to see him."

"Margarette is in, Frankie is uploading as we speak." Her voice was urgent as she came back to me taking my forearms in her hands. Then registering what I said she shook her head. "I don't want to risk him seeing you, I know we are in a public place, but-"

"I want him to see my face." I turned back to the room. Monroe had entered and was now shaking hands with his father in law and exchanging a neutral kiss with the blond woman.

"I want him to know."

Her freckled eyes fixated on mine and we were alone in the room. There was a side of her that wanted to carry me off to the elevator and not look back. It was a miracle already that she hadn't put up too much of a fight into my coming up. Slowly I'd been chipping away at that part of her. The part that felt every duty to protect those she loved.

Loyalty is what I loved most about her, but the strong trait required flexibility. At times providing protection meant letting someone get close to the fire, and maybe even burned. I needed to look the fire in the eyes and she knew it. With a solemn nod her hands fell to her side and we wove our way to the front of the crowd.

We stood behind a larger man holding a note pad and pen in his hand as he attentively watched the scene in the conference room. The televisions changed to project live action from the top floor as the timer hit thirty seconds. We had a better view of Monroe in person but still I couldn't help but eye the T.V. Monroe grinned smugly at the camera and winked as he strode to the tables edge. He raised his arms to tighten his sleeves and I caught a glimpse of the cufflinks he'd lost at Mo Soileireacht, his lucky ones.

Monroe settled at the front of the table when I caught a glimpse of Smith and Jones standing in the corner of the conference room. Each man stood to attention with their hands folded in front and eyes roaming the crowd. I shrunk behind our block of a journalist as I noticed the crisp white bandage that covered a section of Smith's bald head.

Maybe it wasn't a good idea to be up here. Smith and Jones knew my face - would the rest of the security force have been briefed? Or did Monroe already inform them of his actions at the pond?

The timer, now in the corner of the screen ticked the seconds by slowly and I wondered if everyone else in the room was holding their breath. Five feet from the glass walls we could hear Monroe address the board room amplified by the bouquet microphones surrounding him.

"Thank you all for joining me today," He ignored the presence of his father in law and the others in the room with him. "As I am sure all of you know I have an announcement today that will reshape the city as we know it."

"He's cutting it a little close isn't he?" I leaned into Lyle.

"He'll get it done." She reassured but I could tell she was as worried as she looked nervously around the room.

"Before me is a written contract drafted by my legal team designed to initiated the transfer of power from my father in law and current CEO to myself." He pulled out a pen and signed his name with a grand stroke.

Raising it to the crowd he posed for a photo before handing the pen and paper to the old man. The soon to be former CEO patted Monroe on the back and bent over to sign the document just as the countdown hit zero.

The entire room flinched at the sound of static. The crackle of electricity traveled throughout the floor. One after another the televisions previously flaunting Monroe's face lit up with black and white fuzz. There was cursing from the audience and the camera crew looked in utter confusion from their equipment to the crazed screens.

By far Monroe was the most agitated that his big moment was interrupted. With anger in his steps he marched over to the television crew and began speaking in a quiet voice. His microphone caught none of it but from the look of his scrunched face he was not pleased. Leaning down he leered at the helpless crew who were frantically plugging and unplugging cords.

Suddenly the screen went black and the sound faded away.

"Come on Frankie." Lyle whispered under her breath.

Just as soon as she said it the screen faded again replaced by an at first fuzzy image. Gradually the image refocused. The crowd was captivated, no longer was their attention on Monroe who had stopped threatening the camera crew to stare in horror at the television.

Footage take less than twenty four hours ago began to play. I hardly recognized myself as I stood five feet from the edge of the pond.

"Is this the new announcement?" An anxious reporter stuck a microphone in his face but Monroe slapped it away. The clattering sound of the recording device was all that could be heard on the completely silent floor.

He stood frozen in time as he watched the video unfold. I recognized the feeling. It was how I'd felt so many times before. As if the floor had been taken out from under you, yet you weren't falling as you expected. Standing on nothing you couldn't move or think.

"Lovely evening isn't it?"

Monroe entered the screen clearly visible by his side profile. His words of late last night shattered his immobility. He twitched and then without warning launched himself at the dark screen. 

-