7
Asher
The worst thing about being so laid-back was that when it came to the more professional, business aspect of things, I sucked ass.
“Are you sure I didn’t pay?” I asked, tucking my cell phone between my ear and shoulder as I knelt in front of the garage door of the storage unit to unlock the padlock.
“I’m looking on the computer screen of your account history right in front of me, Mr. Hart. And there’s been no receipt of p*****t yet.”
Scowling because I was so sure I’d already given them my credit card information, I rolled up the metal door and entered the cramped space.
“Okay, then. Just send me another invoice or whatever, I guess. I’ll make sure to take care of it this time, I swear.”
After the woman assured me she would, we hung up and I set my guitar on a box that had Ch
