34
Sam
I tapped my index finger against the side of my phone as the taxi veered precipitously through traffic. I was still trying to craft the text to Lark. What the hell should I say? It was one in the morning. She’d left hours ago. I should just say f**k it. It’d be easier to explain to her when I saw her. But still, I stared at my screen, wondering how not to sound like a total d**k.
Then to my surprise, my phone started buzzing in my hand.
I answered on the first ring, “Lark?”
“Sam”—she sounded all business—“where are you?”
“I’m sorry about before.”
“I don’t care about that right now. Where are you? Are you still in Brooklyn?”
I frowned. She sounded super pissed. Understandably so after I’d sent her away and then disappeared. I just needed to get through to her.
“No, I’m almos
