Anderson
Stepping out of the house, I took a deep breath, savoring the cold evening air. My phone buzzed in my pocket for the tenth time that day, but I ignored it. David was already waiting in the car, and my nerves were on edge. I was running late.
I glanced at my watch as I walked toward the driveway. 9:30 PM. My flight was at 9:40, and the airport wasn’t far, but in this city, traffic had a mind of its own.
“Mr. Anderson,” David called, stepping out of the car and opening the passenger door for me. “We should hurry if you want to make it on time.”
“Tell me something I don’t know, David,” I muttered, sliding into the seat. “Did you double-check the itinerary?”
David nodded, holding up his tablet.
“Yes, sir. Everything’s ready. You just need to relax.”
Relax? Not likely. Between
