A: When are you free? Can we talk?
E: Are you okay? I’m in a meeting now, but I can excuse myself.
A: No, when you are home. I just had a fight with Leah and I want to hear your voice.
Jesus, the woman made me feel like a god.
E: I’ll be home by 7pm again, beautiful.
For the second time in two days I left the office at six thirty. It wasn’t sustainable. Just because I worked from home after I spoke to Anna wasn’t enough. I needed to be in the office. Three weeks until she got here, and then we needed to talk.
I called her as soon as I reached my apartment. She sounded sleepy and the blood rushed to my dick. The feeling of being ready for her when she wasn’t here wasn’t getting any easier.
“How was your day?” she asked.
“A fucking nightmare. I hate dealing with stupid clients.”
She laughed and the tension in my voice suddenly sounded ridiculous. I could do nothing but grin in response.
“Anyway, none of that matters. Tell me about Leah. It’s not like you two to argue.”
“We’re okay, it’s fine. It’s just, I got a letter from Ben.”
“From who?” The pulse in the veins on my neck throbbed.
“Hear me out.”
“Hear you talk about your fucking dick of an ex?”
She sighed and I felt like a dick, but really?
“No, whatever. I thought you would want to know.”
“Anna, what the fuck did the fucking letter say?” I didn’t need to ask. Of course, it would be begging her forgiveness, begging her to take him back. Fucking dick couldn’t keep her in the first place and now wanted a second chance.
“I need you to calm down.”
“And I need you to tell me what that fucking letter says before I get on the next plane to London to read it for myself.” The throb in my neck was getting wilder.
“Calm the hell down, I am going to tell you if you give me a minute and stop acting like an asshole.”
I had nothing to say to that. She was right. Some of that asshole virus must have got to me after all.
“Okay, sorry, go on.”
“I’m not one of your associates that you can boss around, Mr. Bossy Pants. Well not outside the bedroom, anyway.” That made me smile. “So, I got a letter at work from Ben today.”
Was it me, or was she stringing this out. She needed to get the fuck on with it. And then I could arrange to have him killed or something.
“And it was to make amends.”
“I bet it was, the limp-dicked prick.”
“No, it was like part of his treatment. He’s in AA or something for his addiction to drugs and alcohol. And it was a really lovely letter. Telling me how sorry he was for putting me in danger, for deceiving and manipulating me. How none of it was my fault . . .”
“Of course it wasn’t your fault.”
“Ethan, listen. It was nice. I was shocked to hear he wasan addict. I didn’t know. And it kind of makes sense. But he hid it well and I’m pleased for him that he’s getting the help he needs.”
