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Monday April 30th Miami, FL
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In the diminutive Starbucks shop, various aromas of coffee and baking goods swarmed all of the thirteen people's nostrils in the building. A few customers were seated at individual Umber shade of brown round tables while others stood in line for the 9 AM Monday morning rush.
Being seated at the two-person round table by the entrance, Ghost sipped through the opaque green straw grande strawberry crème frappuccino blended beverage through the opaque green straw.
He eyed his client being a third-person customer in line. He's Caucasian, his name is Arther Morrison III, and fifty-three years old. Every morning was the same for him. He wakes up at 6:15 a.m. every morning and spends forty-five minutes on his morning hygiene.
The rest of his morning you would believe he's spending it eating breakfast and bonding with his three teenagers all two years apart with his wife of twenty-three years but he doesn't. Without saying a word to any of his family, he leaves to visit his six-month-pregnant mistress of ten years at her favorite breakfast on the beach. Because Starbucks is only a two-minute walk from his office building, he always stops by to flirt with the barista and order a tall honey almond milk flat white coffee.
Between the full morning schedule, 8:15 a.m. every morning is the time he makes it to work.
Ghost carelessly yawned before putting his face ID in his space-black iPhone 14 Pro Max. Swiping his thumb down for his notifications center, furrowing his eyebrows he clicked the message from Tamia–his Babymomma.
Babymomma
Today 9:01 AM
Good morning. Isaiah is going with my daddy this weekend, so you don't have to pick him up from school this Friday.
