The Freelancer: A Chance Mock Action Thriller by Sam Sisavath

Author:Sam Sisavath [Sisavath, Sam]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aethon Thrills
Published: 2024-02-13T00:00:00+00:00

Her father’s office hadn’t changed. It looked as big today as it had when she was nine. Imogen remembered coming in that first time and being amazed her father worked out of a place where he could see most of the City of London whenever he wanted.

Today, the office gave Imogen the impression of entering a time machine. She could imagine her father coming through the large twin oak doors at any moment and sit down behind his oversized executive desk as if nothing were amiss. There was the smell of absence in the air, though the room looked as clean and well-kept today as it had then. Ellery really had gone to the trouble of preserving the room, with the busts of politicians that her father had admired, including Winston Churchill, Margaret Thatcher, and Ronald Reagan, still lined along a wall of honor.

She took off her jacket and tossed it over a black leather sofa. Her father would surely have given her a disapproving look for that. He was fastidious about things like clothes and furniture, especially at work.

“How does it look?” a voice asked. “The secretaries call it a mini museum to your father. I prefer to call it Devlin Tolliver’s Hall of Fame.”

She glanced back at Ellery as he stepped through the door. He was just as big, broad-shouldered, and imposing now as when she was a child. Time and age had given him streaks of gray hair along the temples but hadn’t dulled the square jaw that had helped him pass SAS selection. Hazel eyes that made men under him hesitant and obedient smiled brightly across the room at her.

There was an almost aristocratic way in the way he strode through the office. If she didn’t already know that he owned the building, she could have guessed just by the way he moved. For a man who had to claw his way up from the gutters of England, Ellery Jenners had taken to his new position as CEO of Tolliver Holdings with aplomb.

“He’d have loved the idea of a Hall of Fame dedicated to him,” Imogen said. “Father was never one to mind a little hubris every now and then. But still, I’m surprised you’ve kept it so…unchanged.”

Ellery had closed the twin doors to give them privacy. “Your father was very important in my life, Imogen. In many people’s lives. I don’t think saving his office for posterity was too much trouble.” He walked to the bar with its old polished-oak countertop and sifted around under the cabinets. “One thing your father always enjoyed, and that I always admired him for…” He produced a bottle. “Ah, there it is.”

“My God, how long has that thing been under there?”

“Long enough.” He opened another drawer, took out two snifters, and poured a small amount of the bottle’s contents into each one. “Come drink with me, Miss Imogen.”

“‘Miss Imogen,” Imogen said, rolling her eyes. “Please, Ellery. Let’s not do that again.”

“Just Imogen, then,” he said with a smile.

She walked over.

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