CAT
Thursday morning
I wake to the annoying sound of my phone ringing. With a groan, I pat around for my phone and finally find it on the nightstand, mindlessly pressing a button at the side.
Five minutes later, the sound is back. I forcefully peel my head off the pillow and open my eyes. My eyelids feel glued together. I would like to turn my phone off and go back to sleep for about twelve hours but I remember what I set an alarm for.
I need to get ready to meet up with Simeon Romano.
I gave him a call to invite him to the exhibition. It was unexpected that I was able to reach him—is it so easy to speak to the don of a syndicate?
He was pleasantly surprosed when I mentioned the event and said he was attending it with his wife. We could meet up at the gallery.
