Gemotions

He tapped his fingers on the worn wooden table, the rhythmic beat a counterpoint to the racing thoughts in his head. The pub was packed. He glanced towards the door. Another five minutes. That was all he was willing to wait. He knew something was wrong with his friend, Alex. The lavish lifestyle, the late-night “business trips,” the suspiciously vague answers about his job. It made his blood boil. He’d seen the bank statements, the unexplained deposits, the inflated travel expenses. He needed answers and he needed them now.