Bettie, smirking, said, “Don't seem so unhappy. Let me tell you, some people are really good at pretending. They'll be sweet to your face, but as soon as you turn your back, they'd betray you without a second thought."

Lance, now smiling, replied, “Okay, okay, I'll take your advice to heart."

"That's more like it"

In the swanky Blakely Group office.

The buzzer startled the secretary. "Mr. Blakely. Mr. Wilson's here in the lobby. Do you have a moment to meet him?"

Tyrone checked his watch and calendar, shrugged. "I have a meeting in ten. Tell him to wait."

"Got it."

After the call, the secretary brewed up two cups of coffee and flashed a professional smile as she slid them over to Kaleb and Allen. "Mr. Wilson, sip on. Mr. Blakely's tied up but will catch you soon."

Kaleb eyed the coffee on the table, calm as a summer breeze.

Under his breath, he muttered disdainfully.

Allen, with some sass in his voice, quipped, "I have to hand it to Mr. Tyrone and juggling us with his busy gig."

The secretary kept her cool, acting oblivious to the jab. “I'll go now. Give me a shout if you need anything."

Allen asked, “How much longer will the meeting take?"

“I can't say but Mr. Blakely will meet you right after."

Allen had more to say but Kaleb motioned the secretary out. “That's all, thanks."

The secretary dashed out, a wave of relief washing over her.

Allen was peeved. “Sir, he's giving us the cold shoulder. Why are we still camped here?"

Tyrone brushed them off, owning his spot in Mathias.

There was a saying that a tiger on the plains was mocked by dogs, wasn't there? Allen pondered, taking a quiet gulp of his brew. If this were Philade, Tyrone wouldn't dare pull this off.

Kaleb, cool as a cucumber, took a sip of his coffee, saying, "He's gunning for this reaction. Bailing now would play right into his hands."