Then he was in the driver's seat, and the engine roared to life, and we were moving.
I knew Kieran drove fast. I'd been in this car with him a hundred times, watched the speedometer climb past numbers that would have made any reasonable person nervous.
He took the corner onto Park Avenue at sixty. The tires screamed. We blew through a red light on 72nd Street. Then another on 68th. I watched the cross-traffic blur past, close enough that I could see the shock on drivers' faces, and waited for the wail of sirens that would surely follow. Any second now, a police car would materialize behind us, lights flashing, and Kieran would have to stop, and we'd spend the next hour explaining to some bewildered officer why the CEO of one of the largest corporations in America was driving like he was
