“Hello?” Marc husky but business-like voice greets Amaya and she for a moment thought she'd dialed the wrong number, “Anybody there?” she shakes her head to focus, “Is this Mr. Marc Greyson?”
“Yes this is he, can I know who’s calling me?” she heard him clear his throat, not close by but it was obvious, “Uh, Mr. Greyson, it’s me… Ummm,” there was a silent pause, “I’m sorry who?” she could imagine him frown, “Amaya Peterson,” she bit her lips, waiting for him to react.
“Oh! To what do I owe this pleasure of you calling me this fine night?” his tone comes out as smug, completely different from the professionalism earlier making Amaya roll her eyes, “No pleasure at all, just to see if you’re still alive,” her nose twitch in annoyance when he chuckles.
“Come on Miss Peterson, it can’t be bec
