The Morning Star Company headquarters gleamed in the morning sun. Jack strode into the building, his tailored black suit exuding authority. Employees greeted him respectfully as he walked past, but Jack barely acknowledged them, his mind already focused on the day's agenda.
As Jack entered the inventory division, the scent of old wood and polished glass cases filled the air. Rows of meticulously cataloged antiques stretched across the room, each encased in glass and glowing under the soft lighting. Behind a large oak desk sat Thomas Reed, a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair and sharp glasses perched on his nose. He was busy flipping through a ledger, his lips moving silently as he calculated figures.
"Morning, Mr. Thomas," Jack said.
Thomas looked up, his face lighting up as he saw Jack. "Ah, Jack! Good morning!" He stood, extending a hand. "You're here early. Something important on your mind?"