And It's His Fault
The conference room was quite spacious with a glass wall bordered along the outer edge that allowed the New York summer sun to warm and dazzle its occupants, warm oak paneling lined the other three walls and it was decorated in the latest over-the-top, pricey furniture and technology. The room practically screamed money. Then again, the occupants were seated in Stark Tower so anything less was utterly unacceptable.
The security man’s eyes scanned the occupants of the room, eight total. Broken down further: three on Stark’s payroll, four competitors and the man himself, Anthony Edward Stark. Once Tony entered the room, the guests were offered beverages while the lawyers passed around the contracts.
The sandy haired man shut the double doors and moved to an out of the way corner. He stood in the background, lost in the shadows keeping still and quiet. He was all but forgotten, but that was to be expected, after all, it was in his job description: stay out of sight, out of mind, yet always be on hand in case trouble began.
Tony dazzled his guests with quips and grins, but the humor hadn’t quite made it to the man’s eyes as he watched each and every man seated across from him for a sign of weakness. Dishonesty was a given seeing how they’re business men, but which one of the four was it and did they really think he was going to sign that dismal contract that they put before him?
The billionaire looked over the contract. His eyes skimmed the pages, even if he didn’t take in a single word. His lawyer was reading it diligently. It’s what he’s paid to do. Tony on the other hand allowed the papers to flip again and wondered how he was going to prove that they were lying. JARVIS was doing his bit, digging into files he could find, but nothing was unearthed yet.
Time was running out. He was expected to sign the contract now. Tony looked across the table and flashed his grin once again. He had to stall; only before he could speak the man directly across from him had, “We have the best quality materials this side of the Mississippi.”
There was a sudden shift in the room. Something changed, subtle yet distinct and unmistakable. The security guard’s nostrils flared momentarily, eyes narrowed and his muscles tensed as he spoke softly into his earpiece.
With his pen poised, Tony stilled and canted his head as if struck by a thought. “Hmmm… Nope, I’ve changed my mind.”
The four guests around the table balked at the news quite verbally, but it was their lawyer that raised a hand to still their rants. As the self-appointed spokesman of their contingency, Douglas leveled a look at the man at the head of the table, “Mr. Stark, we’re in the last stages of contract negotiations. One does not suddenly change their mind and choose not to sign at this juncture of time.”
The billionaire dropped the pen onto the table with a dramatic flair. Tony loved that part of the dynamics. The genius stood from his chair and flashed the lawyer a huge grin, “Ah, but I play by my own rules. So, I refuse to sign the contract.” He clapped a hand on his own lawyer’s shoulder before he strolled towards the glass wall that overlooked the city below. Tony had no qualms about leaving his back exposed to these sharks even if he was about to send them on a feeding frenzy, “And it’s his fault.”
Mark had been a Stark corporate lawyer for a good four years, but when those words came from his boss’ mouth the man’s brow furrowed for a split second before he calmed his features as all eyes - thoughtful, angered, questioning, and curiosity expressed in each pair - turned towards him sans Tony’s who still stood facing the city’s skyline. The barrister was accustomed to the billionaire’s eccentric ways, but being blamed for a sudden change of direction was new for him. Mark could argue that he didn’t know what Tony was talking about, or he could go with it… whatever it was. The lawyer decided quickly that if he expected to keep his job, he’d keep quiet and see how things played out. Tony knew best. At least that’s what he always said and at that particular moment, Mark was determined to believe that.
The tension and silence in the room grew thicker. Pepper - being the only female occupant, therefore obviously not at fault as she could never be a ‘he’ - was curious at the outcome of the game Tony was playing. Her gaze flicked around the room, then to her boss’ back and decided it was time to play her part. Pepper stood, but kept silent as she began gathering her papers together as if preparing to leave the conference room. After all, the meeting was obviously over since Tony wasn’t signing the contract. Her movements spurred the others into action, but it was Ross that was the first to bite at the chum thrown in the shark infested waters by the billionaire genius, “What did you do?”
Keeping to his original game plan, Mark didn’t comment, but he did quirk his eyebrow at the accusatory tone of voice. Pepper huffed at Ross, but when the four pairs of eyes snapped in her direction the red-head pointedly ignored them and snapped the leather folder - in which she had gathered her notes - closed. Mark blinked at the woman and responded accordingly: sitting up straight, raising his head proudly and sniffing in disdain at Ross. It was at that point that accusations and finger pointing began to fly.
Greg huffed and turned to Douglas while he gathered his own things, “It would appear, we have some internal cleaning up to do.” The balding man pushed his chair back and stood. He then - needlessly - pointed out the two men still bickering, “We’ll be starting with these two.”
Happy opened the conference room doors and held them for the exiting guests before entering the room with a smug grin. Pepper walked over to the wet bar and grabbed two bottles of water, leaving a bemused Mark still sitting at the long table watching the happenings around him.
Pepper walked towards the window to join Tony and Happy. Both men stood with their hands behind their backs staring at the city below until Happy held out a hand, palm up, towards his boss. He stood beside Tony at the window. Tony grumbled, reached into his pocket and pulled out a few bills to place in the open hand. Happy closed his fist around the money and his grin grew wider. “I keep telling you, boss. Don’t bet against Lupin. He can smell a bluff a mile away.”
The werewolf snorted in amusement, calling attention to his presence for the first time that afternoon and stepped out from the far corner of the room. Pepper tossed him a bottle of water before opening her own and agreed with her friend, “I told you that when you tried to play poker with him.”
Mark shook his head, “No one can bluff against Remus, boss.”
Tony spun on his heel and pointed an accusatory finger at his newest bodyguard. “You just cost me a hundred bucks.”
“And I saved you a million.” Remus raised his water bottle in a mock toast, “You’re welcome.”