Saturday, 22 November 2014

One millionaire short.

(I'm your slave)
This is what I crave
I'm lost, I'm saved
Caleb called last night during dinner.  We had everybody on deck including Joel, New Jake and Batman, for chrissakes and I had to bail halfway through.

He couldn't sleep. It was his last night in Dublin. He was all packed up and down to the casual outfit he had on and his laptop, ready to head to London first thing (not to the Hyatt Regency, thank heavens) for the busiest part of the trip. He again offered to send for me and be there to meet me at the airport on arrival. I didn't answer him and he changed the subject, asking me if I could send him the notes from a strategy meeting for one of the tiny little firms I talked him into funding here at home with nothing to go on other than a gut feeling. It's a test. So far so good. He admitted he needed more to do, that he doesn't have enough to keep his mind occupied and that's why he's wide awake at such a late hour. That he needed to hear my voice to calm himself down. To soothe his scarred heart.

He then tore me to shreds for not being there with him. For making him go alone. I sat there with my finger on the button to end the call and finally Ben came out and did it for me.

He'll figure it out, Bridge. Come in and finish your food.