This was going to be the perfect end to her weekend trip.

Although this was the 4th, 6th time? Maliah didn’t keep count. Let’s just call it the 6th. Although this was the 6th time she was getting some bubble tea at this cafe, Maliah couldn’t contain her excitement. She lightly rocked on her toes as she waited for her number to be called.

Maliah had been tracking where to find a cafe that had a selection of tea in America where she lived for quite some time. It had been hard on her part.

1st….finding a cafe that was not Tim Hortons or Starbucks.

2nd....finding a cafe that was not Tim Hortons or Starbucks that wasn’t just a coffee shop that had a few tea drinks on the side.

3rd…...finding a cafe that was not Tim Hortons or Starbucks that wasn’t just a coffee shop that had a few tea drinks on the side but instead was an ambient place that handled mostly different variations of tea that wasn’t just Lipton.

Google Search finally told her that there was such a cafe that existed but it was further up north from where she lived.

For her that meant….. road trip!!!

Bypassing the numerous Starbucks and Tim Hortons made her all too happy.

All too happy!

Maybe if they ever had any decent tea she might but if their tea tasted anything like their coffee…..A shudder ran through her in memory.

But Maliah wasn’t a coffee drinker by nature anyway so whatever. She was more interested in tea. Herbal tea, Bubble tea, Jasmine tea….didn’t matter.

As long as it was tea, she was a very happy woman.

Very happy woman indeed.

She had planned a weekend trip around this cafe. For the past two days, she had eaten at various restaurants that weren’t available in her city, did a little mall shopping, and hung out at her high rise hotel room to take in the sights. She even came frequently to this little cafe to drink tea and enjoy the ambience.

And now it was a warm July Sunday late afternoon and this would be the last tea she would drink for a while, so she decided to get some matcha bubble tea. She didn’t have to hurry home as it was only a two hour drive back to her city.

Maliah finally allowed herself a small smile and a firm nod, making her long tassel earrings hit against her mocha cheek. Arriving back at her table she secured next to a window in the corner of the room, she carefully set her tea down next to the notebook that was open. Scribbles as well as doodles that made no sense to anyone but her could be seen. Absently she reached up to smooth down the bangs of her short permed hair that framed her oval face as she took in her surroundings. From her vantage point she could people watch both indoors and outdoors comfortably.

Picking up her pencil, she plugged in her earphones before she continued her work enjoying the soft music that played and the aroma of her tea.

----

Abioye glanced at the ornate gold clock that sat on his long and wide oak wood desk.

2 hours and 7 minutes until the accident that is scheduled to happen. It was going to be a big one and Abioye was not looking forward to having to process all the souls that were going to come through.

“2 million dollars!”

Such a soul was in his room.

Abioye’s grey eyes leisurely shifted back to the short roundtund man that stood before him, his grey hair fading on top of his head. He wore a pristine suit, one that his fellow humans would covet in the mortal world. However it’s so called designer style didn’t mean a thing as he stood before Abioye.

John Thompson’s voice projected control but Abioye could clearly hear the shake within it. Here was a man that was used to bargaining and bartering his way through life but this was a situation where his negotiating skills fail him.

Here was once one of the richest men in the world who thought that death didn’t apply to him. Only to wake up one day and find that he was dead. He spent most of his life being greedy for more riches he didn’t need and couldn’t spend. He was so eccentric that in the later days of his life with death came knocking on his door, he began to spend money to figure out how to beat death.

Clearly he thought that Death played games.

But John Thompson would find that this Death Prince was not one to play games.

Abioye stared unblinkingly at the former CEO who finally switched his two fingers he was holding up to all ten as he cried, “10 million dollars...max!”

Another moment passed, where only the ticking of the clock sounded. John Thompson lowered his hands and lifted his head with a small smirk, “You like that don’t you? 10 million dollars is a very generous offer.”

John wouldn’t show it but this man with the gold eyes unsettled him greatly. Since arriving at this office Abioye barely said a word, allowing him to make a case for himself. And make a case he did. A man of his stature was used to getting anything he wanted in life. All he had to do was pay and he got what he wanted. Asking was merely a formality.

But this was the first time that his money wasn’t breaking through as he hoped. He couldn’t read this man behind this oak desk who looked at him as if he, John Thompson, a former CEO, was beneath him.

As such John couldn’t help but to feel as though he was being tolerated and it grated on his nerves. He never was just tolerated. When he walked into a room, everyone and their mother sat up and took notice.

Yet this was the first time since being in this room for the last five minutes that Abioye even looked directly at him. John had spoken eloquently on why his death was a waste for the Earth and why he deserved to go back. Yet, Abioye barely looked at him, flipping through a thick file, that he managed to glimpse his name on.

Finally Abioye stirred as he eased back in his chair and asked his eyes, never leaving John's, “Do I look like I need your money?”

Abioye couldn’t help the roll of his eyes when John Thompson took another gaunder about his massive office. He saw the former CEO’s mouth slant down as his eyes rove around the room, lingering. Abioye sat at his desk in front of a ceiling to the wall windows behind him which entered into a garden. A lone chair sat before the desk which John opted not to use. The only other piece of furniture in the room was a bookshelf with black files on it.

When John entered he was unsettled by this black decor room. Literally everything in the room was some shade of black. Only the gold clock was the only shade of color. And it looked to be real gold!! It took a moment for John to realize that there was someone in the room, for even he was wearing all black. His outfit looked expensive to John’s Thompson’s eye.

John had surreptitiously touched Abioye’s desk and it felt and looked like a real pure oak desk, that was deep mahogany that looked almost black. On his desk were stacks of black files and a black feathered pen that was currently sitting up in its stand.

And as leisurely as the man before the desk acted, John Thompson couldn’t help but feel the golden clock was there for his benefit and not the man. That at the end of the day, the clock was really just for show.

But how had this man managed to come by such things? He knew he needed to be careful and make him an offer that he couldn’t refuse. He had to gain his interest somehow.

John Thompson took a deep breath his eyes snapping back to Abioye’s disinterested ones,

“I understand. You are a man used to the finest, so I won’t insult you. 20 mill...no 50 million dollars!!” the man said holding up his hand in the number five. He gave a self assured grin. No one would shoot down that much money.

Abioye didn’t even blink at the amount, only gave a sigh, as his fingers began to drum on the desk. The sound seemed extraordinarily loud in John’s ears as his eyes darted towards them. Just by the few minutes of interacting with this man, Abioye knew if his heart was weighed it would be found lacking.

“Your existence is an insult to me.” Here Abioye stopped drumming and John didn’t know why he broke out into a cold sweat as Abioye cocked his head and spoke, “You clearly like making deals. Alright….what if I ask you to give me all of your money, all of your riches in exchange for your life?”

John paled at his words and sputtered, “I...I…I can’t do that!! I will have nothing to return back too! I’d become a laughing stock!”

“Money is all you ever thought about in your life isn’t it? I don’t need to read your file to figure that out. Money is how you governed your entire life isn’t it?”

John swallowed.

Abioye continued each word slicing deeply into John’s heart, “You wouldn’t even be able to handle such a deal even if you chose it. To give up everything in exchange for life? You wouldn’t even give up your riches for your wife.”

Still holding his eyes, Abioye flipped to a page in the folder but he didn’t look down at the page, “You could have saved your wife but you refused to spend anymore money that was necessary when she was in a coma. Had you, she would have awoken a few months later. But it wasn’t….how did you say….”

John couldn’t help but to think that Abioye glanced at the page just for show, “...cost effective. And you wonder why, your own children didn’t even try to fight for your life. Just pulled the plug a week after you descended.”

John heard an air of finality as Abioye shut the folder, “The answer is no. You have no case. Go and seek your judgement.”

He tossed the folder aside onto a larger pile of folders when John finally found his voice. Sputtering he said, “You...You can’t do that!! Do you know who I am?”

Abioye picked up another folder, not even looking at John anymore, “No one cares who you are. Least of all me.”

Abioye wasn’t even looking at him anymore. John felt a keen sense of disrespect which suddenly translated into anger. In a fit of rage, the man lunged across the desk but it was too wide and his stomach made him bounce off. Abioye didn’t even look up or acknowledge the movement.

And before John could get a hint to try to go around the desk, two tall guards burst in and picked him up easily. His feet kept swinging wildly in the air as he screamed, “Put me down!! You can’t do this to me!! I’m John Thompson!! I demand to return to life! I will sue you for this!!” he raged as the guards carried him out, neither of them phased by his outburst.

When the last note of that man’s voice disappeared Abioye finally looked with a growl. He shut his eyes and rubbed his temples, his spacious office suddenly restricting. He stood his long legs crossing the room before yanking the door open.

A guard who had raised his hand to knock, pulled a soul out of Aboiye’s way. Aboiye held up his hand before the guard even opened his mouth, “Don’t bother! I’m on break!”

Abioye didn’t even spare the new human a glance. A scowl etched his face as he stalked down the hallway. He figured perhaps soul processing would be easier for a while. At least at the stage of early death a soul wasn’t even conscious making them easier to deal with.

Abioye stopped in the middle of the hallway and pulled out his gold pocket watch from his pocket,

So 1 hours and 35 minutes…

Nice to know.