Post by RHYS SPRINTER on Aug 1, 2013 19:17:14 GMT -5
It had been a while since Rhys had had the opportunity to slack off.
Not take a break. Not relax. Slack off. There was literally a full day of meetings he was avoiding at that moment, sitting on a cold metal bench tying up his personal ice skating boots. His cell phone had been cheerfully shut off, and the one Gingey's employee he saw making a delivery had been bribed into silence.
Sometimes a man just needed to be irresponsible.
After the week he'd had Rhys figured he deserved a little slack anyway. Training the newbies was a task historically monumental in his view because he'd never done it and they were all, to a gumdrop, the most insanely upbeat and enthusiastic little gremlins he'd ever had to deal with. People like that didn't even exist, not really. Rhys was certain they all got high on the powdered sugar before the day started. it was the only explanation.
He certainly did not think about the time he'd tried to get high off of confectioner's sugar that one time in Floridaand the disappointed talking to his father had given him afterwards. Or the ice bath, Never remember the ice bath.
Stuffing the ankles of his jeans into a corner of his skates, Rhys stood, clomping over to the edge of the ice and then gingerly, because really he was insane to come to the rink when was the last time he'd even been here, slid onto the smooth surface, arms held out wide for balance.
After a bit of manoeuvring he was finally comfortable enough that he wasn't going to fall flat on his face, and Rhys dedicated himself to an hour of simple meandering. He really didn't have a purpose for leaving the office and all his meetings. He just wanted to. Sure, he was the head of a giant company and had responsibilities, but dammit he was still young. He'd worked enough for three lifetimes, as far as he was concerned. If he wasn't allowed to slack off a bit, then who was?
Rhys was right in the middle of planning an elaborate cardboard and blanket fort on his roof, when he slid backwards into someone. Crap.
"Sorry about that..."
Not take a break. Not relax. Slack off. There was literally a full day of meetings he was avoiding at that moment, sitting on a cold metal bench tying up his personal ice skating boots. His cell phone had been cheerfully shut off, and the one Gingey's employee he saw making a delivery had been bribed into silence.
Sometimes a man just needed to be irresponsible.
After the week he'd had Rhys figured he deserved a little slack anyway. Training the newbies was a task historically monumental in his view because he'd never done it and they were all, to a gumdrop, the most insanely upbeat and enthusiastic little gremlins he'd ever had to deal with. People like that didn't even exist, not really. Rhys was certain they all got high on the powdered sugar before the day started. it was the only explanation.
He certainly did not think about the time he'd tried to get high off of confectioner's sugar that one time in Florida
Stuffing the ankles of his jeans into a corner of his skates, Rhys stood, clomping over to the edge of the ice and then gingerly, because really he was insane to come to the rink when was the last time he'd even been here, slid onto the smooth surface, arms held out wide for balance.
After a bit of manoeuvring he was finally comfortable enough that he wasn't going to fall flat on his face, and Rhys dedicated himself to an hour of simple meandering. He really didn't have a purpose for leaving the office and all his meetings. He just wanted to. Sure, he was the head of a giant company and had responsibilities, but dammit he was still young. He'd worked enough for three lifetimes, as far as he was concerned. If he wasn't allowed to slack off a bit, then who was?
Rhys was right in the middle of planning an elaborate cardboard and blanket fort on his roof, when he slid backwards into someone. Crap.
"Sorry about that..."
