Gemotions

He bounced his knee, a frantic tremor that shook the entire table. Liam checked his watch. Again. It was a habit now, a compulsive act. The clock seemed to mock him, ticking away the minutes. The design meeting had been scheduled weeks ago. He’d poured every ounce of himself into the proposal.

The door to the conference room finally opened. It was a junior colleague, not the lead designer. Liam’s shoulders slumped slightly, the tension in his neck ratcheting up another notch. "Where is she?" he blurted out, the words escaping before he could fully form them.

The junior colleague stammered, “Uh, she's running a little late, sir. Something urgent came up.” Liam’s jaw clenched. He wanted to scream. He wanted to know what was going on right now. He wanted to know how anyone could be late for such a pivotal meeting.

The delay stretched on, a slow torture. His palms began to sweat. He ran his hand through his hair, mussing it further. Every second felt like an eternity.