Quila and Jaslene conversed as they went out of the three-story call center building that was made of concrete and glass. A throng of employees was behind them. They were headed to the parking lot that early morning to go home, just about thirty minutes after six. The sun was already up in the east. Its rays shot through the cottony clouds, giving off a vibrant orange-gold horizon. A few birds flew over them, and the morning air was still.
“Good morning, Tequila!”
Quila’s heart automatically jumpstarted at the sound of that familiar sexy voice.
Why do I seem to hear him? This can’t be him. It’s too early in the morning. It’s just my imagination! Her mind almost screamed in disbelief.
However, Jaslene heard him, too. Her friend stopped walking toward her own green-black motorcycle, and
