Arslan continued to scribble for a long stretch of time that wound on like an uncomfortable eternity before he slowly set the pen down and raised his head to speak to me. His bright orange eyes lit up instantly.
"Vic! You made it!" He threw his hands open like he was meeting an old friend, and in an instant, all of the solemn authority exuded from earlier was dispelled, leaving me befuddled and full of mixed feelings.
"Glad you could make it. I've been expecting you!"
Arslan didn't seem to notice my plight, or outright didn't care, as he pushed himself out of his swivel chair, rose to his feet boisterously, and walked away from behind his desk with casual movements.
"Drink?"
Arslan, dressed in a polished high-quality cotton dress shirt and fine straight pants, headed for the minibar and pulled out a half-full bottle of wine and two glass cups before smiling at me from behind.
