Shoe Daddy - Chapter 1

Fumbling for his phone, Amon's hand smacked against his nightstand. His grunt of pain was muffled by his face buried in his pillow. He turned his head and peered through his left eye. He finally snagged his phone, sliding the answer button quickly.

He placed the phone on the side of his face,

"Hello?"

The caller paused. "So, let me start off by saying I did try to plan things in advance."

"I'm going to regret answering this call, aren't I?" Amon tried to clear he gravelly voice, "Aaron, just skip to the part where I exert energy I don't have, for a project that's not mine."

"I have to move out of my apartment by this Friday."

"That's two days from now. I'm sure you knew long before today that you'd be moving."

"Tony got called in to work, and Max said he has to study for finals," Aaron replied.

"Work and school are their go to excuses... there's no one else?"

"No one who's willing to help me move out of an apartment on the third floor."

"You really need new friends."

"I know."

Aaron's despondent tone made Amon cave. "Fine... what time do you need me to be there?'

[ADD] Aaron thanks Amon. Aaron is Amon's assistant and wishes him good luck at his meeting. Amon notes it's a dreary day and is nonplussed.

[Transition]

Rain clouds had begun to form outside of his apartment. He sighed. The humidity was unwelcome and so was the eventual downpour.

He quickly finished packing his laptop bag, then felt a tension headache forming as he anticipated his meeting with two of his investors. He breathed deeply.

Amon picked a piece of lint off of his shoulder as he waited for his business partners to arrive. 15 more minutes passed, and he started to tap his right foot and drum his fingers into the armrest.

The secretary observed his motions. "Mr. Johnson and Mr. James Are behind schedule due to an earlier meeting running late. I'm very sorry for the wait." She said.

He knew it wasn't her fault and tried to relax the muscles in his brow, which he knew were probably furrowed in a mild scowl.

"Are you sure you dont want anything to drink, Mr. Diallo?" It was her third time asking. She was a nice, older lady, so he tried his best not to make her feel flustered.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Crane. Really." He smiled.

Mrs. Crane's posture relaxed, and she smiled before returning to typing and filing at her desk. When the phone rang, she answered it, continuing to thumb through the file she'd opened on her lap. She found what she was looking for and plucked it from the file while maintaining an intelligible phone conversation.

Amon nodded approvingly at her efficiency.