Capital Punishment 1/2

I've finished this one a lot quicker than the last part, so it probably needs some going over. All suggestions are ultimately welcome, and if you're new to the story, don't forget to catch up on the rest.

Chater One Continued

She sighed impatiently as she jabbed her thumb against the elevator lift button, tapping her foot against the panelled flooring while the level numbers decreased, sending her temper to the roof.

She hadn’t been this angry since…- No, forget about that.

A shrill ‘ping’ of a bell echoed around the hallway, followed by the whirring of the elevator doors opening. Paige stepped aside politely, waiting for the sea of people to disperse to their offices before stepping into the glass box. She clung to the metal bar as she travelled upward, the elevator overlooking the busy front street, where people in pinstriped suits that cost a month’s wages milled around with mobile phones glued to their ears.

She clicked her tongue in the silence, glancing past the bustle of the main street to see a sliver of countryside. Maybe I could move, she thought longingly, onto to grip the bar tighter and shake her head. She wasn’t running away again because of a silly dream.

“Level sixteen.” A calm automated voice pronounced, as the elevator shuddered to a halt and the doors parted.

“Thanks.” She muttered bitterly, walking from the elevator and making her way up the empty hallway, towards the looming oak doors. She could already hear a whisper of conversation behind the doors and she straightened her blouse. She hated the job, but this was her last chance and if that meant serving coffee, then so be it.

With a rap of her knuckles on the door, she slipped in, nodding her head lightly to the director of the company, who sat at the head of the table, and making her way to the tea trolley in the corner.

“’Bout time, huh?” Came the thick Texan drawl, making Paige turn and plaster a smile of apology over her lips.

“Sorry. I had to finish up some other work first,” she replied politely, turning back to the tea trolley and suppressing the urge to shudder. “Would you gentlemen like tea, or coffee?”

“Give us all a shot of coffee!” Boomed that voice once again and Paige shot a smile back at the director, Giles Yaddle, nodding. He was a sweaty man, with thick rimmed glasses and a mole on his forehead that stuck out. He wore his shirt with the first three buttons open, and a dirty smile always played about his lips.

It didn’t surprise her that he had been sued for sexual harassment twice.

While she poured out the coffee, he turned back to the suits in the room, pointing at a frail looking man with a wave of hair covering his forehead.

“Okay, so how are you gonna sort this crap out?”

The man coughed nervously and fidgeted through the mountain of papers before him.

“I… We were thinking that maybe, we should find another backer?” He seemed to recoil into his seat as he spoke, like a dog who had just wet the rug.

“And where will we find this backer exactly, huh?” Giles asked, almost scowling at the man, who seemed to be shrinking.

“The… The Heracia’s are in town, setting up their new business. They were a big hit in Los Angeles and seem to have a talent.”

The coffee pot clattered to the floor and Paige scrambled to pick it up, inching away from the increasing puddle of steaming coffee that was gathering on the floor.

“Good Lord. What do you think you’re doing?” Giles proclaimed, slamming his palm on the table top. Paige winced at the sound and righted herself, placing the pot carefully on the tea tray.

“Sorry, sir. It just slipped from my hand,” she murmured, balling her hands into fists to stop them from shaking.

“Just can’t the staff nowadays, can you fellas?” He chuckled, pressing the buzzer on his intercom. “Janice, come clean this mess up.” He shouted into the speaker, flicking it off before the woman on the other end could reply. “Now, don’t worry your pretty little head about it, Miss. We’ll get this cleaned up in a minute. Then, you can make some more.”

Paige nodded hesitantly.