DAHLIA 

“Dahlia, you haven’t told me your last name.” The big man with finely sculpted face and attractive grey strands that added to his maturity and manliness led me into his well ventilated, spacious office offering me a seat. 

Martins Steebny should be in his forties — early to mid.

I took one, a bit wary and nervous. I noticed his security had stopped outside the door, giving us both privacy. “I don’t have one, sir.” It would do me good to be as respectful and as polite as I should be. 

Zac had paved the way for me, it was up to me to walk it well. 

He laughed....