James never really understood the big hoopla about birthday parties. But then again, the last time he had one was that day, so perhaps it was understandable.
“James?” a familiar voice said behind him. James turned to face the father of Margaret Dubray, the prestigious Thomas Dubray.
“Hello,” James said, as he was lead by Mr. Dubray to a private room.
“You haven’t aged at all, you know,” James said, touching the unnaturally firm skin of the elder man. “Your daughter has got some nice genes in store for her.”
“I’m not in the mood for pleasantries,” Mr. Dubray said, handing James a envelope. Serious now, James pocketed the enveloped and sat down, gesturing Mr. Dubray to do the same.
“You know that she has to agree, right? Company policy,” James responded.
“She will. It’ll be too painful not too,” Mr. Dubray said.
James could see the look of worry on the other man’s face; he was doing this out of love.
“Will do, sir,” James said, rising and walking out. “I’ll come collect the rest some other time.”