Chapter 5
Bobby Faulks paced around the carefully arranged furniture in his corner office, taking care not to squeeze the handset of his phone too tightly.
It wouldn’t do to have to replace it, even if he did take care of that himself.
Too many chances someone might notice.
And people who noticed things asked too damn many questions.
Besides being a bit larger than offices where most of the software drones toiled away in endless mediocrity, Bobby’s personal workspace wasn’t too far off from the usual specifications.
Spacious black wooden desk, which he adjusted to a standing desk for precisely twenty-five minutes out of every hour. Three big flatscreen monitors set to the perfect ergonomic measurements to keep him in the right posture at all times.
A few geek-friendly toys scattered
