Without opening his eyes, Wiley reached under his pillow and pulled out his cell phone, interrupting his ringtone's madcap Calypso version of ACDC's Bad to the Bone.

"What?" he mumbled.

A quiet, assertive voice on the other end of the line. Wiley listened. When the other man paused, he said, "Where?"

A short reply.

Wiley looked regretfully over at the redhead sleeping beside him. The thin sheet drawn up to her shoulders did little to hide her voluptuous curves.

"I'll be there tomorrow morning," he said at last.

The caller disconnected. Wiley rolled out of bed and started to dress.

((((((((((((((

Wiley is an OC of mine from another fic, "Mi Corazon," which is still ongoing. I kinda like him, so I'm going to take him on a test drive, see what he can do.