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| The elevator races upward, belying the age of the building around it, and Barry’s ears pop after a few seconds. When the doors finally part, he moves past a sign for a law firm. There’s a light on here and there, but the floor stands mostly dark. He runs along the carpet, passing silent offices, a conference room, a break room, a library. The hallway finally opens into a reception area that’s paired with the largest office. || | | The elevator races upward, belying the age of the building around it, and Barry’s ears pop after a few seconds. When the doors finally part, he moves past a sign for a law firm. There’s a light on here and there, but the floor stands mostly dark. He runs along the carpet, passing silent offices, a conference room, a break room, a library. The hallway finally opens into a reception area that’s paired with the largest office. || | ||
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| In the dim light, the details are all in shades of gray. A sprawling mahogany desk buried under files and paperwork. A circular table covered in notepads and mugs of cold, bitter-smelling coffee. A wet bar stocked exclusively with bottles of Macallan Rare. A glowing aquarium that hums on the far side of the room and contains a small shark and several tropical fish.|| | | In the dim light, the details are all in shades of gray. A sprawling mahogany desk buried under files and paperwork. A circular table covered in notepads and mugs of cold, bitter-smelling coffee. A wet bar stocked exclusively with bottles of Macallan Rare. A glowing aquarium that hums on the far side of the room and contains a small shark and several tropical fish.|| Barry makes the forty-first floor. It is dark. He glides to the corner office. It is dark and cluttered with the detritus of all night deal-making: papers, files, cold coffee.|| “The details are all in shades of grey” is pretty dreary writing. Does cold coffee smell of anything, let alone bitterness? A small ''shark'' in a fish tank? Seriously? What relevance is the whisky? To point out wealth? | ||
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| As Barry approaches the French doors, he silences his phone and removes his shoes. Taking the handle, he eases the door open and slips out onto the terrace.|| Barry slips out quietly through the French Doors and onto the terrace.|| What is the obsession with shoes? Does it matter that his phone is on silent? Do we need to know about the handle? No. | | As Barry approaches the French doors, he silences his phone and removes his shoes. Taking the handle, he eases the door open and slips out onto the terrace.|| Barry slips out quietly through the French Doors and onto the terrace.|| What is the obsession with shoes? Does it matter that his phone is on silent? Do we need to know about the handle? No. |