Dubai, Saturday evening, May 14
Ileaned over the balcony of my penthouse, watching the amber sky melt into the Persian Gulf. Palm Jumeirah sparkled below. Luxury yachts, city lights, everything I was supposed to want. It should’ve felt like power. Mostly, it felt like distance. My phone buzzed on the glass table behind me.
Vera
Send me proof you’re actually working and not just sunbathing, player.
I snapped a photo, tie loosened, city in the background, and shot it back
Hard at work. Shirt’s still on, for now.
Her reply came seconds later… a sleepy selfie, hair mussed, eyes half-lidded.
It’s two a.m. here. Only you could make insomnia look this good.
I grinned, leaning back against the rail, already missing the heat of her next to me. We’d spent the week bouncing photos and voice notes. Her coffee runs in Lester Harbor, my endless meetings in Dubai, flirtation skimming the edge of dirty.
You look exhausted, sweetheart. Get some sleep before you forget how to function.
Only if you promise to wake me up properly next time you’re here.
Count on it.
The sun dipped lower, casting everything in a golden glow. I let her voice linger in my head as I got ready for another call, business as usual, but all I wanted was her. Another week went by. Field test results on our plug and abandonment applications in our clients’ wells kept everyone happy. We celebrated a small victory at a hotel rooftop club where I nursed a beer while half-listening to jokes and the music. That aside, beautiful women who made seduction look effortless walked by, throwing suggestive glances at me. But none of it landed. My mind drifted to Vera and Damian. It should be morning over there now.
My son.
I slipped out to the terrace, dialed the boy, and waited. His voice crackled through my wireless earbuds, bright and fast.
“Dad, when are you coming home?”
“Soon, son. What are you up to this weekend?”
“Eating pancakes for breakfast with Grandma right now. You should see what Grandpa and I made.”
I grinned. “Let me guess. A birdhouse?”
Damian snorted. “I made birdhouses when I was six. This is a game controller. Grandpa let me use his soldering iron.”
I could hear pride in his voice. “Already outclassing me. So, what’s next? Building an empire?”
He laughed. “An entire game. I want to make one where the hero can fly and build stuff. You’d play it, right?”
“In a heartbeat,” I promised. “Maybe you’ll teach me to code.”
His tone softened. “I miss you, Dad.”
That hit me harder than any drink could. “I miss you, too, buddy. I’ll call again tomorrow, yeah?”
We hung up, and for a minute, the city felt hollow. I scrolled to Vera’s name, ready for her voice, her sharpness, anything to remind me I was still alive.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” I greeted when she answered her phone.
“Good evening, loverboy. How are you?”
“Busy. My colleagues and I have been with clients and suppliers,” I said. “My engineers introduced a revolutionary decommissioning application in one of our clients’ land wells, so it’s big news here.”
“Well done. I’m proud of you,” Vera’s sultry voice purred.
