The day hadn't actually been that long. Semi-productive, by Zaire's standards, but not extremely busy. He had signed a few things off and gone down to a court case, though other than that nothing else had come his way. Parts of the day had been spent reading, and though he would never admit it, he had spent at least half an hour throwing balls of paper into the bin on the other side of his office.
It was the day of his pre-arranged date with Tessa, and half an hour before he was due to clock off, his temporary secretary came in with a letter inside a far too formal looking envelope.
"Thank you, Charlotte," the man said with a smile. "You can go home now, if you want. I don't think we'll be getting anything else today."
"But sir-... I'll have to send a reply to that and there could be a stack of paperwork on my desk at any given moment... I'd hate for someone to say something-" the woman started, but with but a raised eyebrow Zaire shushed her.
"Then I guess it'll have to wait until tomorrow, won't it?" he said in a light tone. "And for heaven's sakes, it's Zaire, not 'sir'. I'm not a professor." The young girl was about to start up again, however the man dismissed the redhead despite her protests with a wave of his hand and closed the door behind her with a flick of his wand before smoothening out the parchment and starting to read.
He murmured the words softly, going back over each letter to make sure that he didn't misread anything. It wasn't uncommon that he did so; the words seemed to dart around the page sometimes, sometimes letters would disappear and he'd find himself in a right mess. He took his time, though, growing ever more concerned with each paragraph. "Guy knows how to disguise a flipping essay," he murmured, shaking his head. Though it was the final few words aside from the signature that sort of ticked him off.
We ask that you come immediately. This is a rather urgent matter.
"It's always urgent," the American huffed, standing up and closing all of the drawers in his office. He picked up a quill from his desk and sent his Hungarian Horntail patronus off to Tessa, explaining that he had to go away for at least two months on classified "Ministry Business" and that it was urgent that he left straight away. He frowned before sending the silvery creature away from him, hoping she wouldn't be too mad at his last minute cancellation of their date.
Zaire apparated home and packed a few suits, some shirts, jeans and dress shoes in case of any formal dinners that may or may not take place. He looked at the letter again and planted the address in his mind, twisting on the spot with the tell-tale crack that apparition always brought with it. The last time he had attempted international apparition, he'd left behind a few of his ribs and that had been everything but fun to recover from, but this time he arrived completely unscathed.
In all honesty, he hadn't actually been completely sober the last time that he'd attempted such a thing, but such matters wouldn't be discussed between anyone.
The Minister stumbled for a few seconds, allowing himself to get his breath back before looking around. Towering above him was a grand hotel, the sign on the front reading "St. Regis". He let out a whistle of sorts, though it was drowned out in the usual city noise. Buses, cars, bikes and people turning the land into a jungle, roaring, hissing, growling, shouting. Every noise Zaire had ever heard piled into five seconds worth of listening.
"Well, if they'll drag me out of work for this, at least they're giving me a good hotel for it."
Home 
