Chapter 16
Abernathy's Hidden Hobby?
Sarah suspects Mr. Abernathy might have a secret life beyond business. A fleeting remark or an unusual item in his office hints at a hidden passion, creating a moment of shared, unspoken understanding.
Sarah smoothed down the lapel of her impeccably tailored blazer, the sharp crease a stark contrast to the mild disarray of Mr. Abernathy’s office. It was a space that screamed ‘efficiency’ and ‘power,’ all muted tones and intimidatingly straight lines. Yet, today, something felt… off. Or perhaps, precisely on. A subtle deviation from the norm, like a misplaced comma in an otherwise flawless sentence.
She was there to present the quarterly projections, a task she usually relished for its logical certainty. Numbers didn’t lie, didn’t throw tantrums, and certainly didn’t leave trails of glitter glue across the conference table. But Mr. Abernathy, usually a fortress of stoic professionalism, had been strangely distracted during their last brief encounter in the corridor. He’d paused, mid-stride, and mumbled something about “the rhythm of the market” and “a certain cadence.” Sarah, ever the pragmatist, had attributed it to late-night deal-making. Now, however, as she waited for him to settle behind his imposing mahogany desk, her mind, that ever-churning engine of observation, latched onto a peculiar detail.
On a high shelf, barely visible behind a stack of industry reports, sat a small, intricately carved wooden bird. It was smooth, polished, and possessed a delicate, almost whimsical quality that seemed utterly at odds with the austere surroundings. Sarah’s gaze flickered to it, then back to Mr. Abernathy as he finally sat down, his usual stern expression firmly in place.
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