Mike Teller Novels & Stories

he asked. Jonathan first narrowed his eyes at the question. “Yes,” he answered, then raised his brows. “Do you have a problem with that?” Mike quickly shook his head. “No, no, no, sir. I was just curious.” “Hm,” Jonathan hummed. He adjusted himself on the chair, and reached for the coffee which Mike had brought in earlier, and took a sip. “And don't even think of telling her about this, or you're dismissed in advance." Mike shut his mouth immediately, and did that zipper gesture as though he zipped his mouth. But I wouldn't stop laughing silently.

Night crept up on Mike as he whittled away his evening on his laptop. Using his neighbour's unprotected Wi-Fi, he checked on several sites he had been maintaining, answered some of his emails, and opened up his bank statements. None of the money his Great Aunt left him had been transferred in yet, but he pictured the new amount in place of his current one and wondered.

After giving Finn a quick reminder, Mike smirked and told him to wait outside. Then, straightening his collar with a calm, confident air, he cleared his throat and stepped into the room. "Everyone, may I have your attention for a moment? I have something to announce," Mike called out, his voice carrying easily across the space. Once he was certain all eyes-including Annie's-were on him, he continued in a bold, theatrical tone. "Today, my friend, the CEO of a very well-known company-you've definitely heard of it-Company X happens to be in the area."

After making an appointment, I call the manager of the company. "Ollie from the Brown Group, are you familiar with him?" The only manager left, Mike, says, "He is a very powerful investor. The Brown Group ranks among the top ten domestic investment banks. So when he asked for your number from me just now, I gave it to him directly." I say, "Okay, I see."

Michael wrapped an arm around Hazel and laughed so hard he nearly bent over. "The biggest regret of my life was living with you for ten years. Get lost, you broke loser. And if you end up begging on the streets someday, don't come begging outside my house!" I grabbed Jean's hand and walked out the door without looking back. The moment the elevator doors closed, I called the bank's customer service hotline. For the past ten years, Natalie and Michael had used my money as their own. "Hello, this is Gerald Hensley. I want to report all my credit cards lost.

"Michael..." "Tell me."

Mike was being a little too unrealistic and reckless with the issue at hand. "Sir, you really don't think she would find him?" "She can't. He's not in Wisconsin, and she's not some high profile criminal with the skills to find him." Mike replied curtly, shutting the laptop close. He stood up and reached out to the large bar at the far right of the office, towering over every other piece of furniture that sat in the space. He drew out a half empty bottle of whiskey, pouring himself a glass. He returned it to its position and walked away, over to the glass wall whose curtains had been pulled sideways. Adonis watched his form turned back against him, perhaps raising the glass to his lips.

Nathan was a regular and well known in the restaurant, and being a Crawford, he was treated with more respect than the average customer. "Any update about the finance team?" Nathan asked. "Hmm, one minute," Mike replied as they got to the table. They had their seat, waiting for the table to be served as Mike opened the tab with him. Nathan's phone beeped as a message notification dropped from his father. He didn't bother to open it when he picked up his phone and slid it into this suite pocket. "I think I found something," Mike said, his eye narrowed at the tab. "What is it?" Nathan asked.

Something’s off! Mike stared at her and said, “I’m Mike Corden.”