Last updated on May 23, 2021
Shane ignored the look his secretary gave him as he turned from her to go back into his office.
It was him. Him. The one who called him that night of the party. Shane knew it was him. Shane needed to see him again. To speak to him. To hear him, to touch him, to hold him, to surrender to him, to…
Oh, my God, what the hell is wrong with me? I should have gotten his number.
That wouldn’t have gone over well, he thought.
He hated waiting, putting his life on hold for someone else to contact him. I would have called him immediately. Now I have to wait until he’s done with work. If he calls me. If.
He hated ifs. He lived his life by knowing what to do next, predicting his own moves, and to hell with anyone else. If they didn’t change for him, he ran over them.
Now he stared at the phone, almost willing for it to ring. Call me. C’mon, man, call me.
The man probably hadn’t even gotten downstairs yet.
He needed something to keep him busy. He looked at his calendar on his phone—no meetings required his presence. So he’d go to them. And scare the shit out of them.
Shane dialed into the first meeting, which was already in progress. He heard someone say, “Who beeped in?”
He smiled as he heard the pin drop. That’s what he liked.