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I'M AWOKEN BY an incoming call that stirred me awake in the depth of the night

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I'M AWOKEN BY an incoming call that stirred me awake in the depth of the night.

With all the excessive, relatively bad news relentlessly flinging my way and the universal knowledge that nothing good ensued after midnight, it was difficult not to wake with a sinking feeling of trepidation in the pit of my stomach.

Through weary eyes and with tired limbs, I shot my hand out to pat down the surface of the bedside drawer where rested my mobile. Its jarring sound slicing through the silence made it easier to pinpoint where it hid in the dark. Gracelessly, I slid my thumb to answer the call and plopped myself against the plethora of pillows that lounged beneath me.

To say that answering with a coherent greeting was a demanding task would be an underwhelming statement considering the shape that I was in and the hour that it was. However, this didn't seem to translate through the receiving end of the line in view of the way the receiver answered without any inhibitions or concerns to my weariness.

"What's in the box?"

I blinked at the darkness. "Raleigh?"

"I've been wracking my brain around it for days," He began his voice smooth and soft-spoken but always crisp. "And I can't, for the life of me, figure out what the hell could be in it."

While I let my eyes drift shut, a wry smile glossed over my lips. "You could always just open the box, you know."

"I'm not sure that's a pandora box I want opened just yet."

"Sounds to me like you're making excuses."

"For what cause?" 

"Me,"

"You?"

"Yes." I answered, voice low and bordering on a whisper. "You wanted to hear my voice so you made an excuse. It's quite endearing of you, really."

"Baby, if I wanted to talk to you so desperately, like you claim, wouldn't I just talk to you?"

"A successful man like you with the world at his feet?" I scoffed. "Time is money, I should assume. You're not going to waste it with some random girl that you once shared a dance with for the hell of it. I think a man as calculated as you always needs a motive."

There's a pause on his end and I can't quite depict if it's because he's at a loss for words or if I'd offended him somehow.  "What would that motive be, might I ask?" 

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