Page 11 of Torqued

“Dad, you’re a lucky man. She can cook, balance a checkbook better than you, litigate three cases at once, and love like no other.” I dig into my food, praising her.

After I’ve eaten, I clean up and head to get a shower. My body is so tired, I almost fall asleep in the bathroom but make it out just in time to fall face-first into my bed.

Mom: So proud of you.

Mom: It’ll come.

Mom: Love you.

Dad: Good job.

Dad: Agree with mom.

Dad: Love you.

Rush: Love y’all.

Parents and group texts. This is my life at twenty-nine. Not bad. Some people might think it’s weird, but there’s so much about me that’s not what it appears to be, and honestly, I don’t give a damn.

My eyes begin to close when my cell goes off again. I reach for it, grumbling at Margo and Crank as I do. “Damn, go to sleep y’all.”

When the screen lights up with an incoming text, my face flames.

Lane: See ya next week.

Lane: Oh, damn.

Lane: My bad.

Rush: You sure the hell are.

Rush: They’ll figure it out.

Lane: Green looks so good on you.

Rush: Tell Lynn, hey for me.

That puts an end to the messages, although I continue to grumble out loud. “I hate Lane Shifter! Who in the hell even has a name like that? I mean, it’s not like… he’s on my nerves and needs to leave me alone, but more like if he were on fire, I wouldn’t waste my piss.”

I lay my phone back onto my nightstand and begin the tossing and turning for hours. Lane gets to me so much, I’m still awake when the hauler gets home. Dawn is breaking before I can finally fall asleep.

4

Spencer

“Spencer, are you feeling bad?” Jeanne, my assistant, jumps up when I walk through the door. I was hoping my mirror was lying to me, but apparently it wasn’t.

“Long weekend, even longer night.” I drag my sleepless, tired ass through my office door with her on my heels. I’m too stubborn to explain why I didn’t get much rest over the weekend.

She slides a file behind her and steps backward. “I’ll give you a few minutes and find some coffee for us.”

“Just… give it.” I drop my head, curling my fingers in the air. She walks over, easing the papers into my hand. Jeanne is the best, but today I’m off my mark. “What is it?”

“Revisions of the specs you sent Mister Donavan.” Jeanne’s voice is low, telling me she’s compared the two and knows I’m about to lose it. I lift my head slowly and open the folder.

“He’s lost his ever-loving mind!” I drop the file onto the desk, picking up the phone. I punch the numbers with vigor, ready to end the whole deal when the other line buzzes.

Jeanne runs from the office, taking it as fast as she can. Before I can get my call through, she cuts in on me.