At precisely ten in the morning on Wednesday, I sat across from the new facilities director, my walkie-talkie on the table between us as we both sipped our black coffee.
“You often work nights?” Titus asked as he turned on his tablet and tapped the screen.
“As needed,” was my brief reply.
“How long have you worked here?” he continued, apparently making notes on his device.
“Ten years, Mr. Leung.”
He glanced up. “Titus, please.”
I shrugged and waited for him to continue. In the meantime, I secretly enjoyed the snug, long-sleeved, red Polo neck shirt he wore tucked into a pair of navy blue slacks. Everything showcased a very strong body, in excellent shape. Unlike mine, though I wasn’t overweight by any means. I just wasn’t as toned as he was.
“Ed?” He waved a hand in front of my face
