Graham Greene Novels & Stories

“ He thought. The car slowly came to a halt at the garage. He came out with Drew next to him and the guards behind. They walked into the restaurant briskly . He looked around but couldn't find anyone. Sean scoffed loudly ” So unprofessional, who are these people? “ he asked. Drew turned to him ”the Graham's are one of the biggest families in Australia with a net worth of over 100 million. “ he said, adjusting his rim glasses. Sean walked over to a seat and sat down. He crossed his legs while using his phone. ” I have never been the one to wait for anybody in my whole life. These people lack professionalism; they should shut down their company and give it to charity, “ he said.

“He’s still clocking out late. No incident reports. No parties or drugs. Clean record this week. Coworkers say he’s... focused.” “Hm.” Graham grunted softly and took a sip of his tea. He coughed once before settling his cup down. “Keep watching,” he said, voice steady. “Report again next week.” “Yes, sir.” The PA exited quietly, leaving Graham to his silence. He leaned back, eyes on the rain-streaked window. He hoped his grandson was finally done with his past habits. Outside, the rain fell steadily and Graham Wright watched, waiting.

The woman at the desk barely glanced up when we entered; security buzzed our names only when Elena’s business card moved across the desk. Graham’s office was smaller than I’d pictured, with a bookshelf of legal tomes and a window that looked down on the parking lot. He stood as we entered, mid-sixtysomething in a cardigan that tried to be casual and failed. His hair was thinner than the photos, and his hands had the knobby look of someone who’d spent years doing small violence in the name of business. “Ms. Hale,” he said, voice thin with the kind of false warmth men like him practiced when admitting guilt might smear their hands. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

I sent them a group text telling them that I am fine and yes, I did make it. What are you doing right now? Well, I am at this restaurant called Flow that I looked up. G****e recommended it. It is owned by a man named Desmond Greene. Oh my, I have heard of him, Sally says. Yep, he is tall, dark, and handsome with light eyes. He is also single too, have you met him yet? No, I just got here and sat down. I told them. All I have to say is watch out because he is a looker.

Zack thought, casting a doubtful glance at Maverick before shifting his gaze to Freya. Freya felt even more awkward and murmured, "Mr. Newton, this is Ms. Angela Graham, the CEO of Graham Group. You must have seen her picture online, right?" Maverick was nonchalant. "So what? I've already submitted my resignation. I'm no longer a part of Graham Group, and I have nothing to do with it. Stop bothering me." He seemed quite irritated. "Mr. Newton, Bryan has already been dealt with by Ms. Graham. He won't be able to target you anymore. You're so capable and principled.

My voice trailed off. Graham was quiet for a moment, then started to nod. “The product stays with you as you grow.” “It’s a constant. You change—it doesn’t. Yours for life.” “Brilliant,” he praised. For some reason, his compliment made my chest warm, and I ducked my head at the strange sensation. He pushed off the table, holding out his hand. “Graham Gavin.” I took his hand, noting the firmness of his grip. “Richard VanRyan.” “I’m impressed already.”

Graham replied, grinning. "Is that so? That's amazing news! Who is that person? I'll send my men to summon him right this instant!" Vincent was absolutely over the moon. A glimmer of hope was beginning to ignite within his despairing soul. He knew that Graham was the best doctor in town, and even though he did not believe that anyone else could surpass Graham, he was certain that there were surely limitations to Graham's expertise, considering how broad the field was, spanning from internal medicine to surgery and even neurology.

But beneath the table my palm was curled tightly into a fist. “You are so great, Old man.” I forced every nerve to say those words. “Do you know what’s even greater?” He beamed while I gulped down my saliva. “Full moon is tonight. Tonight is going to be Green’s last.”

The instant I was about to step inside. A figure came tearing out of the muddy landscaping strip beside the road like a man possessed. He threw himself onto the hood of my car. It was Graham. He was wearing a washed-out, threadbare jacket. His hair was a matted, straw-like mess. Soaked to the bone, he reeked of that sour, musty stench that clings to people who haven't seen daylight in years. The man who'd once been an immaculately dressed, supremely arrogant Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery.

Mel sneers as she glares at Graham, who pulls a disgusted face as an answer. “He’s an asshole,” Graham growls. “Oh, I just talked to Damion … he’s on his way back. Says Argentina was lovely.” Mel is relentless. Graham scowls, a vein beating fast in his neck. “He fell again,” he whispers. “But at least no one died this time because of his recklessness.” Mel pales. “He still won.” I don’t have a clue what’s going on. “Yeah, that’s all he cares about,” Graham hisses. “You better watch out, winning is his one true love.” Mel stays quiet, but her eyes are fierce blue flames.