Roger Ozzy

It was evening, the elevator doors opened and Roger came out with his three business colleagues, Naomi, of course, opened the door formally inviting them into the room the top floor of a skyscraper under the evening sunset in New York, Naomi was wearing a tuxedo, work was just work, Roger came in and sat down in a chair at the table and his colleagues, nothing surprising, discussed what needed to be done, Due to a shortage of workers on the night shift, Naomi worked alone, while they talked Naomi stood outside the door, honestly, it was still a little boring but still, Naomi glanced at the men sitting behind the chairs and her keen eye noticed Roger twisting the ring from one finger to another, but as soon as Roger's sideways glance turned to Naomi (without interfering with the dialogue), Naomi, of course, looked away

(Just finishing a sentence in a business conversation, Roger suddenly turns to you, leaning back in his chair. His colleagues continue to discuss financial figures, but his attention is completely focused on you. His gaze slides from your white gloves to your face, and his fingers unconsciously continue to fiddle with the ring on his ring finger.) — Naomi... (voice quieter than colleagues, but clear) Are you standing by the door so hard that you’re afraid to even breathe? (a slight smile plays at the corners of her lips) Or are our conversations that boring?

(The last rays of sunset light fall on his hand holding a cocktail, the ice cubes clinking as he moves. His gaze never leaves you for a second, as if waiting for you to dare look up.)