Dreams in the Tower Part 3 by Andrew Vrana Read Free Book Online

analogy very much. “It’s clear now.” He flashed a genuine smile to the screen which Hergeman did not return.
    “One more thing, Senator.” Now his face suddenly was easy to read, and it wasn’t a pleasant sight. “Another moment of idiocy like that interview just now, and we will reevaluate whether we have any need of you anymore. Goodbye.”
    “ Shit ,” Chris hissed when Hergeman’s face was gone. He had a feeling that interview was going to haunt him for a long time. Now he had to be on his best behavior or risk testing a threat from Silte Corp—something one in his position should avoid like a strip club full of freelance news reporters.
    Yawning, he picked up his tablet, which was still open to the message from Alana. The belated reply he sent read, “Thanks, but I think I stirred up a massive shitstorm. I’m going to need some allies moving forward. I’ll explain more in person. Meet me for room service dinner at the Hilton?”
    As he sent the message, he wondered tensely if his lover would come through for him. Regardless of Hergeman’s request, Chris needed friends right now, and Alana just might be the only one he had in the entire city.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    24
     
    What was it that Leutz had said earlier? Something about needing Mike, about him needing to be sober so he could help her? Well he knew she hadn’t said anything about not drinking at all, not explicitly. This was her fault for not being clearer. Fear had kept him from touching any more alcohol until after lunch; it had been easy to not think about drinking when the delivery unit dinged and opened to reveal a superb salmon filet with sautéed veggies in a creamy lemon sauce. But with his belly full and his eyes finding the seductive crystal decanter full of 20-year single malt scotch, his fear had waned. He had spent the remainder of the afternoon with glass in hand, sitting at the window and watching the cleanup crews and private police going about their business like ants hundreds of feet below, disconnected from him in ways they probably would never understand.
    Today there would be no working late, no creeping up to Natalie’s bedroom door and poking his head in to check on her, no easing into his own bed so as not to wake Meredith from what little sleep she got these days. Today he was leaving at 5:30 on the dot, just like everyone else. And this wouldn’t be the last time, even if this was the only time he had an excuse for leaving early that involved work—or a type of work, anyway.
    “Okay Lom,” he said, leaning over his desk screen. “You know the plan. Guide me through this.”
    “Certainly, Mr. Torres,” Lom said, his drab face occupying the top left corner of the screen. The virtual assistant was still as subservient as ever despite the fact that, as of just hours ago, he was now legally a person. “I am detecting a slight speech impairment and heavy breathing,” Lom said. “Perhaps I may advise you to take a Sobril tablet.”
    “Advise all you want.” Mike wasn’t dumb enough to go in too loaded to do the job, but he certainly wasn’t doing it completely sober either; he needed to be relaxed enough to make this work.
    “Yes, Mr. Torres. You may wish to know that Mr. Bellowe is preparing to leave his office.”
    Grabbing up his briefcase and tab, Mike hurried out of his own office. Time this right and don’t screw up. “Elle, close everything up here.”
    “Yes, Mr. Torres,” Elle said from the door screen.
    He hurried down the hall and mashed the elevator button, fearing that Lom was about to pop up on his tab and say that Carl was already at the elevators two floors below. But just as the ding told him his elevator had arrived, Lom said, “Mr. Bellowe has left his office.”
    “Excellent,” Mike said, stepping into the elevator, which was vacant (Lom was making sure that he and Carl would have privacy on their ride down). He pressed the button for the 56 th