Page 51 of Perfect Satisfaction
For a moment, I forget about the pain I live with and just laugh. It drains away when Brendan whispers, “Damn, I miss seeing you like this, Sula.”
“I miss me more, B.” It’s the truth. “It’s time to fight to get my life back.”
His dark eyes fire with a pride I can’t acknowledge because I haven’t earned it.
Not yet.
But I will.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
“Joshua Basset was overheard today cursing about testing not being on schedule for the latest release of MSW’s operating system. After a quick phone call, freelance program manager Ursula Moore talked him down from the precipice.
Apparently the program team is sending so many flowers to her new home in New York, the floral shops in Manhattan, Brooklyn, and Queens are bare.
Moore was overheard to have said, ‘Next time, send Bitcoin.’”
—Moore You Want
March
“The article you wrote about Kensingtonbeing in the city when you never even went to the club was inspired,” JB compliments me.
“Thank you,” I yawn. The sun warming my skin is making me lazy. I jetted off to the house on Grand Cayman for a few days after I wrapped up my project for the United Nations.
As I explained to Brendan over dinner the other night,“Working with linguistic specialist Iris Cunningham has my head spinning. She’s brilliant.”
“You’re no slouch, kid.”
“Thanks but her brain works in ways I can’t comprehend.”
“How so?”
“She speaks so many languages and just flip-flops back and forth depending on her mood. Finally, I demanded a translator.” I pause for effect. “I needed three.”
He throws back his head and howls.
I could feel my energy levels dropping. I just needed time away. Lying poolside in a bikini, I’ve been basking in the warm sun letting my stress wash out to sea.
“The chocolateon ditwas just darling,” JB states.
My senses sharpen. “What do you want?”
“Well, there’s a bit of a problem.” He goes on to explain where he’s stuck managing the team in Bombay.
After giving him succinct instructions on how to correct the problem, I say, “JB, I want you to promise me something.”
“Other than giving you the password to my bitcoin account, anything, love. You know that.”
“Take a project management class. Obviously nothing I’ve taught you over the years has wormed its way into your brain.”
My brother’s good humor intact, he takes my teasing in stride. “But if you were working for me again, these problems wouldn’t pop up.”
“If I was working for you again . . . Hey, B’s calling. Let me call you right back.”
“Sounds good, love. I’ll be waiting.”
I exchange one FaceTime call for the other. “Hey, handsome. What’s shakin’? JB and I were just chatting.”
