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And then he grunts, and my fingers slip, and the door slams shut, leaving me staring at a glossy tinted window.
In days of yore, grunts like that were reserved for sexy bricklayers building houses for their women. Now apparently, it’s the sound of a finance bro stealing your cab.
I’d love to take the high road and storm off. This iswaymore than I bargained for when I called him out for cutting in line. Unfortunately, I don’t have that option. Ineedthis job, which means I need to get to work on time.
I dash around the front of the cab to the other side, dodge an angry cyclist, yank open the other passenger door, and slide in the back. I slam the door closed, then lock myself in for emphasis.
The Suit looks at me in aristocratic disbelief. “Are you stalking me?”
“You wish,” I snort. I pull out my phone and shove it in his face. “This is my car. See?”
“No,” he says, through gritted teeth. “This ismycar.”
He shows me his phone screen, which admittedly seems to have the same car info as mine does. I squint. “You selected the carpool option.”
“I did not...” he trails off as he looks at his phone and realizes I’m right. He has the aghast look of a man who just realized he booked himself in steerage instead of first class on the Titanic.
I watch him, smug.
At least until the driver speaks up from the front. “Youbothpicked carpool. That’s what the app defaults to during unusually busy hours.”
Dammit.
“That was an error,” the Suit says, his eyes sliding toward me. “Obviously.”
At least we agree about that.
“She’s getting out now.” The Suit reaches across me to open my door. His arrogance is truly astounding.
“Shehas a name,” I say. “And it’s Amelia.”
“Fine,” the Suit says, cool exasperation leaching out of every muscle. “Amelia is getting out. Now.”
I’ve changed my mind. He’s not a bear. He’s a shark. Or maybe a wolf. Something silver and snarling with extra pointy teeth.
“You’re taking me directly to my destination,” the Suit says to the driver, ignoring me. “Five-hundred extra if you can get me there before eight-thirty.”
“What about me?” I ask. I hate how easily he ignores me. I hate how easy everyone ignores me.
“Two-hundred dollars?” he offers.
I start to cross my arms, then I realize it’s not a great idea while holding a pastry and a muffin. So I settle for what I hope is a stern frown. “I already know you’re willing to go up to five-hundred.”
“Yes, because he’sdriving.You’re merely vacating.”
I snort a laugh. I can’t help it. The whole thing is so tragically on the nose. People would rather give me money to quietly disappear than to stick around and actually do something.
The Suit looks at me strangely. And then the corner of his mouth twitches. It’s the tiniest, barest hint toward a smile.
Maybe he’s human after all.
And that gives me enough courage to settle in and fasten my seat belt. “Here’s the thing,” I say. “I’m not getting out. So, we can keep arguing and both be late, or we can stop arguing and both get there on time. Either way, we’re doing it together.”
The Suit sizes me up, from my black flats, to my itchy gray suit, to my blond curls tied back in a ponytail, to the mutinous set of my jaw. For the first time all morning, I get the sense that he’s really seeing me.
For some reason, the idea makes my pulse speed up.
“Are you trying to tell if I’m bluffing?” I ask.
