Macallan

Or so he thought. Focused on uncorking the bottle and carefully pouring out the wood-colored liquid, he almost did not notice the person standing behind him. But eventually he did, when he turned around and unexpectedly met the gaze of a young woman with scared brown eyes and a coarsely trimmed brown bob which dangled above the unpadded shoulders of her black suit jacket. The tumbler fell from the surprised businessman’s fingers and cracked on the oak flooring, ejecting its contents at his feet.

“Who are you?” he tried and failed to say with indignant authority. “How did you get in?”

“Please, sir. Listen to what I have to say.” The stranger slowly approached him with her two gloved hands held in front of her, as if trying to tame a wild lion. “Let me explain everything.”