Ezra
My phone rings almost as soon as Amelia exits the limo. “Desmond,” I answer it. “What’s up?”
“Hey, Ezra,” my colleague responded. “I know you aren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow, but we need you today.”
“What’s wrong, Des?” I ask.
“Everything,” he huffs. “There is about to be a mutiny. Just come for a little bit to smooth everything over. I am begging,” he says, sounding extra desperate.
“Okay, Desmond, since you asked so nicely,” I chuckle.
“Ezra,” He grumbles.
“I’m coming, Desmond,” I say, “See you in a bit,” I hang up the phone. “Willow, change of plans. We got to swing by the office,” I say.
She glances back, “What’s wrong? Some sort of crisis?”
“Did you hear that?” I mutter.
“No,” she shrugs, and I roll my eyes.
“Just drive,” I snort and send Amelia a few texts
