Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 133180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
“It’s true is all I’m saying,” Trent mumbled.
“Just shut up and play your damn game. I’m not taking advice from somebody recently single.” Bishop cursed. It was times like this when Trent felt like an annoying little brother instead of his best friend.
“Fine.”
Mike waved his hand at Trent. “Ignore him. He’s just mad he’s back on the couch again.”
“By choice,” Trent chimed in quickly.
“No one wants to leave a woman’s bed and sleep where another man sits his naked ass by choice,” Mike quipped.
Bishop laughed when Trent paused the game and scowled at both of them. “Oh come on, man. Don’t tell me you’re still doing that shit, Mike.”
Bishop laughed even harder.
Mike nodded slowly, a sly grin forming on his face. “Only when it’s real hot and my ass gets sweaty.”
“Fuck man.” Trent grimaced. “I hope you guys got some clean sheets around here.”
Bishop was still listening to his dad and Trent go back and forth when his phone buzzed with another notification. It was a video message. Bishop stood and knocked his forearm with his dad’s. “All right, man. I’m out.”
“Love you. See ya in the morning.” Mike yawned, then said to his back, “Good luck at your orientation tomorrow.”
“Yeah.” Bishop stopped on his way down the hall. “Trent, I’ll be ready at seven thirty. Don’t make me late.”
“I know, I know,” Trent droned. “You told me twice already. Stop nagging me…. I’m not Edison.”
“Fuck you,” Bishop bit back.
“Just go in your room and finish crying about it, you big fucking baby.”
Bishop slammed his door. If Trent wanted clean sheets, then he knew where to get them. Bishop was tired, he needed sleep. He took off everything except his briefs, turned off his one lamp, and got into bed, feeling sluggish from the numerous beers. At least he had the entire day off tomorrow to do his school shit. He’d meant to have a talk with Edison about his new Tuesday night obligations after they’d had dinner and romanced each other… but obviously that hadn’t worked out.
After Bishop was settled, he lit up the screen and clicked the play button on the video message. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of Edison sitting in his living room, at his little desk with his head propped in his hands. The phone looked as if it was braced against something, since Bishop was able to see both of Edison’s hands as he wove them through his messy hair. Fuck. His eyes were puffy and red, matching his cheeks, and Bishop noticed that Edison was still in his suit at eleven-thirty at night. That wasn’t like him at all.
“I tried calling you Bishop, but you wouldn’t answer me. I left you a message too… I… I don’t know if you listened to it.” Edison bit his bottom lip when it started to tremble.
Oh damn. Bishop knew this video was gonna gut him. He already wanted to swallow his wounded pride and call right now to beg for Edison’s forgiveness for walking away and then ignoring him half the night. Edison’s voice was low and raspy… and a little slurred. Bishop squinted and brought the screen closer. “Are you drunk, baby?” Bishop whispered, shaking his head. He also knew that Edison wasn’t a drinker. He guessed they’d both had the same idea tonight to dull the ache.
“I didn’t text you because I know you hate those… and… and the voice mail cut me off.” Edison dug his fists into his sockets so hard it looked painful. When he brought his hands down, Bishop noticed Edison’s eyes had welled up, but he never saw any tears fall. “So, I thought to do a video so I can explain. I just wanted a chance to ’splain, okay”
Edison sat straighter and Bishop saw his white dress shirt was twisted and had a couple of light brown stains in the center. “Today was Boss Appreciation Day.” Edison cast his eyes upwards as if he was thinking, then continued sadly, “I hate this damn day. Always have. Because no one in my office likes me. Can’t stand me, actually. They think I’m boring and…”
Bishop swallowed at the discomfort in his chest at seeing Edison this way.
“And anyway, Mila, my assistant kinda forces everyone to participate.” Edison pulled at his hair, his voice sounding far off as if he was speaking to himself and not Bishop, “But, Skylar put on this whole thing about me being such a great example and a good mentor, and leader. And I deserved more than a measly greeting card from the staff. Everyone was eating up the words of his little speech. And um… I guess I did too. I should’ve known better because Skylar’s never done that before… but… but I guess I wanted to believe that maybe some of them did think that way about me.” Edison laughed humorlessly, “I should’ve known it was all some hoax. Skylar hates me and wants my position, and I wish I could figure out this weird freaking game he’s playing because then I wouldn’t… I won’t fall for his crap.”