More Than Politics {Book 1}: Editing

~8~

"Beep, beep, beep."

Graham reached blindly for his alarm, rearranging his bedside table in the process. Once the ghastly noise was silenced, he turned onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He fell into the usual routine of thoughts: what's for breakfast, what workout he'll do today, how were the stocks looking, what was scheduled today, who will he see today. Will he see Ama today?

Graham rushed out of bed, tearing off his boxers and hopped into the shower. Ama wasn't an unwelcome thought, but having her on his mind more wasn't doing him any good. He didn't like the way his mind had drifted during a call with a fellow share holder. Graham almost missed an important point wondering who exactly Ama was, where she came from, what she was like outside of work.

Even now he was wondering what she'd be like in the shower. But she wouldn't let him so much as touch her. To kiss those soft plush lips again, to caress her beautifully curved...

"Dammit!" He hissed, looking down at himself. He chuckled.

"Looks like we've got our work cut out for us. Huh little dude?" He mumbled, taking himself with only his imagination to satisfy him.

~~.~~.~~.~~

Pulling up to the entrance of Hybrids Enterprise, Graham looked leisurely to the block next door. He remembered how when he first entered, he was amazed at how different the interior design was to its original one. And when the receptionist had told him to head to the office, he could see all the floors through the glass elevator, how each one was busy with people working for that one strange twenty-two year old woman.

"Good morning sir." Ms. Nancy chirped from her desk, as Graham stepped onto his office floor. "What will it be today?"

"I'm in the mood for a nice black coffee, no sugar." Graham replied, not even nodding a hello as he rushed into his office.

A while later, Ms. Nancy came clipping in with his coffee and a clip board.

"Here you are sir."

"Thanks. What's the agenda for today?"

"Well sir, you still need to secure a date for your meeting with the Salt Lake Slums ambassadors." She started.

"Ah yes, Mila and Jacob," Graham had went to visit the central Empire states a few months before. He'd found it quite devastating how whole towns and cities had been reduced to almost nothing during the war. And now, a mere seventy odd years after, the best the inhabitants could do was fit over 700,000 people in less then flexible living conditions.

"Yes, they're eager to get the post WWIII restorations well underway," Nancy continued, droning on about how they wanted to start with the cathedral, how the buildings could be hybridised appropriately, who would get involved and why...

But Graham had zoned out, flicking among files and contracts sprawled across his desk. Then a yellow tinted tabloid caught his eye.