Page 14 of After Hours


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“Yes?”

“Is it okay if I leave at 12:30 today?” I could sense the dullness she had in asking me this, and the simple answer could’ve most definitely been “yes,” but that’s too easy.

Hearing her speak quickly became my favorite thing to do because she was smart— not just textbook smart but intellectually capable and there was nothing more admiring in a woman than that.

“Why?”

“I have to pick up some documents from school, drop off the second commitment form that you signed as well as hand in my volunteerism hours,” she stated.

“Where did you volunteer? And please, have a seat,” I said.

“But sir, I have to fini—”

“I didn’t ask you that. Now, where did you volunteer?”

She shared a slight smile and took her seat. “What if I don’t want to answer that question?”

“Too bad you don’t have a choice,” I said, sharing a devilish grin.

“I volunteered at the Windsor Heights charity home, a church off Main Street, and I did a program which fed homeless people in Brooklyn.”

“That’s interesting.” Normal college students have their documentation forged, but to see that she went out of her way to get not one, but three acts done was impressive.

“How about you?”

“Hmm?” I mumbled, lifting my head up.

“Do you do anything charity or volunteerism wise?”

“Aside from my ex, nothing else I can think of at the moment,” I chuckled, but she was silent.

“That’s deep,” she shared with a gulp.

“I annually supply schools with electronic devices, especially since the world is becoming more digitalized, donate to endangered species, and I have a foundation for sexually abused victims,” I stated.

“Impressive,” she said.

“It’s smart business, you don’t agree?”

“I can’t agree with something I don’t know enough about, but I think that’s just the face you want to give.” The face? What face is she talking about?

“Face?”

“Yeah, a face. It may be good for your image but I think you do it from the goodness of your heart.”

“Most don’t think I have a heart.”

“Most opinions aren’t factual,” she said, looking me directly in the eyes.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“So you do have a heart?”

I let out a hearty laugh. “Sometimes.”

“Just sometimes, Mr. Xander? I think you’ve got the biggest heart but if you let anyone see it, you’ll be forced to live down the reputation you’ve made of yourself. The one that makes you the best in business. The one that makes even your worst enemies respect you.”

“I just—,” and there it was. That moment when time stopped, and the two of us sat there, staring at each other.

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