I choose my dark gray suit matching the tie and a white crisp shirt. I pick one of my personalized cufflinks, shoes to match on.
I look again at my wall-length mirror. Perfect. I comb my hair, and I probably need a haircut. I look at my fingers. In the next few hours, there will be a band on my ring finger, and I’m a married man.
What’s with this has to stop I can’t understand? I can’t help but smile. My phone rings. Finally, someone stops my stupidity. It’s Pat.
“Seb, what happened to the deal with Mr. Wigner?” Pat’s bossy tone hits my eardrum.
“I don’t like that asshole. I’ll get another deal.”
“What do you mean you’ll get another deal? I’ve been working on that Seb. His product is going to be huge in the market. Can you give me at least a good reason?”
“I don’t like that douche. T
