Axel
“You have been my client for how many years now, Philip?” I asked the older man at the other end of the phone, taking a sip of my whiskey while my eyes flitted through the view of the city in front of me.
“I am one of your oldest clients, Axel.” He chuckled.
“Good,” I affirmed. “So, you understand why I can't bring down the price I am offering you. I have never done that before and I have no reason to do it now. You know what I am offering you, Philip. You can't get it elsewhere.” I told him, running my fingers through my hair.
“I know, Axel.” He sighed.
“I shouldn't even be the one speaking with you directly. It should be my—” I swallowed. “My assistant,” as I said those words, I glanced at my wristwatch, clenching my jaw in annoyance.
She was running late.
She should have bee
