CLYVE

THE TRAFFIC WAS horrendous.

I stared at my phone, watching the clock as if it was a time bomb ready to explode in my hand. I was going to be late, then Austen was not answering my damn call.

“Why aren’t we moving? I am kinda in a hurry here,” I asked the cab driver irritably. I should have driven or hired a driver already, but I thought my life had a pretty boring routine.

“Maybe there’s an accident ahead, sir,” the cab driver answered with disinterest. In his mind, he was already cursing me like shit. He thought I was an asshole like most of his passengers when...