Zane gave him a sidelong glance but handed over his phone without comment.
Wes, never short of sneaky tricks, pretended to make a call before abruptly hanging up. "Busy signal," he lied, all innocence. "I'll just text instead."
Zane didn't suspect a thing, letting Wes openly access Textgram right under his nose.
Just as he'd hoped, Zane still had Joanne saved in his phone.
Without missing a beat, Wes impersonated Zane and fired off a message:
"I'm wasted. Get over here and drive me home."
Joanne had just toweled off from her shower when the notification popped up. She stared at her screen, frozen for a solid minute.
Back in her secretary days, Zane would occasionally summon her like this after one too many drinks. But now? "Probably drunk off his a*s and forgot I quit," she thought
