"Where the hell is it?!" I muttered, darting left and right like a pigeon on caffeine. Riley's hot pink wig bobbed with every step, threatening to slip off my head. My cheap dress clung to me in all the wrong places, and my heels? They were planning my murder.
The crowd up ahead buzzed like bees around a hive, and that's when I spotted him—tall, sharp, already swarmed by curious onlookers.
“Oh no. I’m late!”
I rushed up, panting. “Y-You’re already here!”
Ethan glanced down at his watch, completely unbothered. “You’re late.”
I whipped out my phone. “By one minute?!”
He didn’t even blink.
I forced a polite smile, though behind it brewed the kind of rage only public transit delays could inspire. ‘You’ve probably never waited for a train in your life, you luxury-leather-wrapped tyrant…’
