He was a very large man.
It was an unfair description. There were other things one noted about him, things that were more concerning and carried greater weight. The way he moved, for example, with athletic grace. The way he sat, elegant, poised, relaxed, but conveying a coiled readiness. The razor-sharp intellect shining in his dark eyes. But the size was the first thing that made an impression. He was six feet and five inches tall. His build matched his height, and the perfectly tailored suit in Argentinian blue expertly accentuated his wide shoulders, broad chest, and narrow waist. He wore a crisp navy shirt under it and the color combination complimented his dark brown skin. His curly black hair was cut short, and a stylish goatee beard and mustache defined his ridiculously square jaw. Our main conference room was large, and he had taken up most of it with his presence.
I was alone across the table. Just me and my tablet. The fewer people were involved, the better.
“I’ll make it simple, Prime Baylor.” His voice was deep and measured. You knew that if this man screamed, the world was probably ending. “I know you have my cousin.”