The Free Pass

Chapter 1

Shawn

I woke up and my head was buzzing. I'd had a lot to drink last night, but buzzing was a new hangover sensation. Maybe I really overdid it. How many shots of rye had I done?

"Is that your phone?" an unfamiliar voice asked.

Oh yeah. It was. It was under the pillow, for god knows what reason, and it was vibrating.

I looked to see who was calling before answering it. Andrew. My manager. It was before 9:00 AM and I felt like shit. I'd call him back later.

Rolling over, I took a look at the person next to me. She had that slightly embarrassed look that women often have after a hook-up.

"Hey," I said.

I had no idea what her name was. I knew it last night, probably. Today my brain was too fuzzy.

"Good morning," she said brightly. Too brightly. "Want me to make you breakfast?"

I started to climb out of bed, looking around for my clothes.

"No, thanks. I've got to get going."

I avoided looking over at her. I didn't want to see if my words disappointed her. I found everything but my top and got dressed.

"Do you know where my shirt is?" I asked the pretty brunette who was still laying naked in her bed.

"Try the living room," she suggested.

I walked out the bedroom door and turned right. My shirt was on the floor by the couch. As I buttoned it, the woman joined me, now dressed in a t-shirt and shorts.

"Please do me a big favor and keep this between us," I said.

I'd said this line many times before. It was amazing how every woman respected it and kept our encounters quiet.

"You told me that last night," she said, arms crossed, clearly annoyed that I was taking off.

"Thanks again," I said as I headed towards the door. "It was fun."

"Call me?" she asked as I turned the handle.

"Of course," I lied.

The odds were I didn't even enter her contact in my phone when she'd given it to me. Occasionally I'd add someone, but she had to be pretty special.

I walked out of her apartment and pulled out my phone. I used GPS to figure out where I was. Thankfully I was only a couple blocks from the bar I'd been at with my friends last night. My car was parked in a garage not far from where I stood.

After I got home, showered, and drank some coffee, I called Andrew back.

"What's up?" I asked.

"I need you to fly to New York today. Something's come up."

His tone told me that whatever was going on was not good.

"Is everything okay?" I asked.

"No. Text me when you get here. We've got a 4:30 meeting in my office."

He hung up.

Well fuck. What could be so bad that he had to be such a dick?

A couple minutes later I got a text from the travel agency confirming my flight time and my hotel reservation. I barely had enough time to pack an overnight bag before I had to drive to the airport.

I slept for the short flight, hoping the nap would take care of my hangover. It helped a little, but I still had a raging headache. I hadn't eaten all day and I was badly dehydrated. When the plane landed, I grabbed a big soft pretzel and a bottle of water before going outside to find the car that had been sent for me.