Marcust Pick Up Line Novels & Stories

His big hands were trembling as he leaned into the cabin. "Sweep it again!" Marcus yelled. Another message came through my bag. A loud ping. I reached for the phone on the floor. Marcus grabbed my wrist. His grip was like a trap. "I'll read it," Marcus said. He picked up the phone. His face went gray. He turned the screen toward me. MARCUS LIKES THE VINTAGE 1945 WHISKEY. SCARLETT LIKES THE TRUTH. TOO BAD THE BOTTLE IS POISONED. CHECK THE CORK, BIG MAN.

Justin asked Ashley and she looked at the face where the video was paused focusing it more clearly. “N…No. What is it? Any movie star? Sports person. He is quite young, Justin.” But Justin shook his head and kept thinking hard. “I have seen this face somewhere,” he muttered, “But where?” Marwick's phone rang, breaking the intense atmosphere. He glanced at the caller ID and answered promptly. "Marwick Garner speaking," he said in a clipped voice. On the other end of the line, it was his investigator. “Can you please call me later?” He switched the speaker and tossed it on his desk, “I am already occupied in a mess!”

In my past life, his men had contacted me through this number when they came to collect Marcus' debts. This time, I was going to give them a helpful heads up. I dialed the number and waited as it rang. After three rings, a gruff voice answered. "Kozlov Enterprises." "Hello," I said, disguising my voice slightly to sound more nervous and uncertain. "I'm calling about Marcus Martinez. I... I have some information that Mr. Kozlov might be interested in." There was a pause on the other end of the line. "What kind of information?"

Marcus was really to do anything just to have the chance of explaining things to her. "Okay, so August would call her, she doesn't have his number right?" Few minutes later, they've discussed and they were already ready to execute it. "Hello" August said immediately she picked up. "Sorry, who's this?" She wasn't really sounding good. "August, Marcus friend" he introduced "please don't hang up"he added rushly. "You don't sound too good yourself are you okay?" He asked with concern. "I'm fine" she said sharply "to what do I owe this phone call?"

Of course it’s him. Marcos always had a flair for knowing just when to reappear—charming and disarming, like a surprise spring breeze after a long winter chill. I grab my phone and call him before I can talk myself out of it. He picks up on the second ring. “Well, well,” he drawls, that familiar rich voice curling around the words. “I was beginning to think you forgot me.” “I’m guessing the concierge knows you by name now?” “I do have a habit of making strong impressions.”

“It’s you.” Marcel cleared his throat. “Sir,” he said respectfully, stepping closer, “Ms. Charlotte’s phone is fixed.” Nathan stiffened slightly but didn’t turn. “But,” Marcel continued, holding the phone out, “it needs a password.” Nathan didn’t respond. He simply stretched out his hand without looking, and Marcel placed the phone into his palm. The moment it touched his skin, his fingers tightened around it. Nathan stared down at the phone in his hand, the black screen reflecting his tired, haunted face.

Marc was busy going through some of his companies sales record in Ghana when he touches his chest as he clears his throat and he looks down to his tike and he smiles and flashes back to when Chantel helps him to tie it. He smiles and he stop what he was doing because he misses her, he picks his phone and dial his second line which is in his second phone he purposely dropped at home even Chantel wasn’t aware he dropped the phone. Chantel has just finish taking her bath and she Is trying to pick some dresses for herself when the phone rings.

Wilma angrily said. "Then let's go!" Marcos immediately stood up and readied. They were about to go when Marcus's phone rang. It was an unknown number but he answered it quickly. "Hello." His cold voice greeted. "Marcus Eastwood! there you are! I thought you will spend your night sleeping because you are an idiot who doesn't use his mind! ha ha ha!" A man said, the voice doubled at the end when the other line laughed, he assumed they are just two of them.

Beta Marcus My phone rings and I reach into my pocket and pull it out. It's been days since I dispatched the mercenaries to Garnet City, and I'm eager for news, my nerves frayed from the endless waiting. "Marcus speaking," I growl when I pick up, my voice rough with tension. The voice on the other end is tinged with excitement, "Sir, you're not going to believe this. We've struck gold." My grip on the phone tightens, "Go on," I command, barely able to contain my impatience.

"You're right. My destiny is to rescue men. What a life! Heaven help me!" Watching him walk off, muttering and sighing, Marcia couldn't help but laugh to herself. Myron truly was a piece of work. Thanks to his antics, the tension in her chest eased slightly. Pulling out her phone, Marcia stared at a photo of Elijah for a long moment before taking a deep breath and dialing his number. After an excruciatingly long series of rings, a cold, robotic voice announced, "We're sorry. The number you dialed is unavailable. Please try again later."