Page 251 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 2

"Good morning, Tabitha." I issue Tabitha, another software engineer, a wave. "I love that hairstyle on you."

Tabitha shoots me a look. "I feel like I'm being punked. You never compliment me."

"Me? I'm always first to notice when you do something fabulous to your appearance. Last week, you wore those pink polka dot glasses that made your hazel eyes pop. I thought I was looking at an eyewear model."

"Well, you didn't tell me. This is nice." She curtsies. "Thank you."

It hits me all at once that I've kept my observations of others to myself for the longest time. It's not that I wasn't kind at heart—I was, but I didn't let anyone know. This is the same reason I never thought I could interact with other men.

"Wow." I can't help but stare at the office as I settle into my desk. "It took Hilton spanking me to change my personality. I don't need to be the shy boy who buries himself in lines of code. I can interact with humans... they like me."

I take a sip of coffee and then turn on my work computer. I work on a few bugs, such as the one Brent Brock mentioned over the phone last week. I fix what I can, then run the code to see if the errors persist.

To my surprise, they don't. The code is as bug-free as it'll get.

I know what I must do. It's the ultimate proof that Hilton changed my life—I must call Brent Brock to get his business back. I fucked up badly, but I have what it takes to regain his trust.

With a grunt, I look up the Giants’ schedule. I see that next weekend, they're playing Chicago in Illinois. A blurb lets me know this is called an "away game" which is something I can use in my conversation with Brent.

A wave of anxiety floods me when I stare at my phone. All it'll take is one quick call to Brent to prove I'm a different man.

Fighting back my nervousness, I pick up the phone and dial Brent's number. I close my eyes and tap my foot as the phone rings, scared as hell for what'll happen.

Brent could curse me out. Tell me to fuck off. Say that he doesn't do business with guys who don't know how to build rapport.

Strangely, none of this bothers me. If I can survive my smoking hot CEO boss stripping me naked and spreading me across his lap, I can handle this phone call. This is peanuts compared to what I did last week, which was the hottest thing I've ever done.

Brent answers on the fourth ring. "Brent here."

"Hey, Brent." Leaning back in my desk chair, I spread my legs like other dudes do on business calls. "This is Daniel. I'm calling you back in regard to that glitch you mentioned last week."

"I don't have time to talk. I'm getting ready for the big Giants game."

"Oh, they're playing Chicago next Sunday, right? I'm getting the boys together to watch."

Brent suddenly sounds more interested. "Yeah, they are. It's an away game, which doesn't bode well for them."

"They handled their away games much better last year. The Bears are a pretty formidable rival—it'd be better for them to take them on their home turf."

"I wasn't aware you were a Giants’ fan, Daniel. You didn't mention it on our call last week."

"I was distracted. My girlfriend was pissed I went hunting with my buddies the weekend before without inviting her younger brother along. And I also ditched him when I went golfing with my coworkers."

"I fucking hate when my wife does that. She can't understand that I don't want to hang out with her weird little brother."

"Same, dude. Anyway, I fixed that glitch in the software you're using. I'll send the update to your computers so you don't deal with that again."

"I already canceled my account, man."

"Don't worry about it. We still have your card information on file—it won't take more than two seconds to set it up. All I need is a yes."

"Sure, man. Go for it."

"Aaaaand it's live. Don't be a stranger—let me know what you think of this new update."

"Will do. And if you ever want to head to a Giants game, let me know. My buddy at Goldman Sachs has season tickets."

"For sure. That is, if the girlfriend lets me."

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