3 - Roman
It all happened in a whirlwind. He had been brought to an office, filled out even more paperwork—God his hand hurt so bad—and was given a rundown of rules.
Honestly, he didn’t fully understand the rules, because he felt he was missing some pretty crucial context clues. Next thing Roman knew, he was back outside, their final instructions to wait for a text ringing in his ears. They gave new meaning to efficiency.
He started towards the park across the street where he left his Mercedes, contemplating if he was crazy or not for doing this. But it was only for a night, and would hopefully get his family off his back. Hopefully. Honestly, he was mostly confused on how this was going to help him.
He had a trickling of an idea of what it was and how it was supposed to help him. He juggled his keys with a sigh.
……..
(Saturday)
At this rate, he was going to wear a groove in the floor. The party was at 8. Tonight.
He threw an anxious look at the clock. 11 am, and nothing from Secret. He felt the panic bubble up inside him. What a fool he’d been to trust something so…weird and secretive.
I felt a vibration in my pocket. I frantically tore my phone out of my pocket, breathing a sigh of relief once I read the message lighting up the screen from.
Grandiose Coffee. 1 pm
The man stared back, electricity crackled. He broke the connection to stare at the table. Roman saw the other man's shoulders go up as he took a deep breath, before glancing back up at Roman.
Once their eyes connected for the second time, the other man smiled. Roman nearly choked on his spit at that smile, which sent a jolt right to his cock.
Roman was glued to the spot, as the mysterious man stood up and made his way to him.
“Mr. Verlaine?”