As he entered the business parking area, he grumbled under his breath for a fourth time.
Smith required a lot of upkeep. I quickly came to the conclusion that someone else would push his buttons if I didn't. He could jog miles around everything thrown his way since he had a low pain threshold and a low tolerance for those who screwed up.
I looked at the sleek, contemporary building from my window. It was occasionally difficult to comprehend that my husband owned the entire street.
His biological father had unexpectedly called and was waiting at his workplace. After 26 years with him, what could he possibly want? He'd have a mountain of explaining to do if he'd changed his mind and decided to be a devoted father.
Smith made a brisk approach to the front door. He entered a key code, and the glass doors slid open as we entered. In the distance, a vacuum cleaner could be heard.
