Ivan grinned. “That’s a wild story that I don’t feel like talking about right now. So ask me about it again later, like in a couple of weeks.”

Derrick laughed it off and left him alone. “All right, then, suit yourself.”

IVAN WAS ANXIOUS for the rest of that night. He was trying to decide when would be the best time to call Lucina about her ideas for their partnership. By the time he had settled in with his brother and went over the hard calculations of his monthly business goals, it was eleven o’clock. Was eleven o’clock at night too late to call on business?

What the hell, she throws nightclub parties, Ivan argued to himself. This is not a nine-to-five job she’s pushing. And it’s a Thursday night. She’s probably out somewhere right now herself.

So he decided to call her that late from his bedroom while Derrick crashed on his sofa. He took a couple of deep breaths to compose himself and get his thoughts ready while the line rang, only to receive a recorded message. The message didn’t use her voice or even identify whose number he was calling.

“Shit, how do I even know this is for her?” he mumbled. He went ahead and left a message anyway. “This is Ivan David from ID Promotions.com. I’m calling for…Lucina Gallo,” he said with hesitation. He nearly screwed up her name. “Ah, anyway, call me back…and we’ll talk.”

Ivan hung up his cell phone and said, “Shit. That was a terrible message.” Then he felt anxious again, wondering how long it would take for her to call him back.

As soon as he began to strip out of his clothes, his cell phone rang. He grinned and moved to answer it from his bedroom dresser, assuming it was Lucina.

“That was fast.” However, when he read the number, he recognized that it was Ida calling him.

He stopped and stared at the phone with a new dilemma. Do I even answer it? I’m ready to talk business right now. What if Lucina calls me back while I’m shooting the breeze with Ida?

He decided not to answer, still hoping to get his call back from Lucina. When he remained up, doing business projections for his website, and eleven o’clock turned to eleven thirty, Ivan called it a night and climbed into bed to rest.

“I guess she’ll call me tomorrow, then,” he figured. He pulled the sheets over his boxers and white T-shirt. I need to call Ida back tomorrow, too, he mused. I’ll just tell her I went to bed early after an extralong day.

As soon as he got good and comfortable with his eyes closed, his cell phone rang again and startled him.

“Shit!” He stumbled back up to answer it.

He looked to read the number and found that it was restricted.