ADVERTISEMENT
the curb.
A yellow cab pulled up, its tires hissing against the wet asphalt.
“The car is here,” Taylor said, holding his umbrella over my head as we stepped out into the dark.
“I am not a prop for your business partners,” I said, the cold wind blowing my hair across my face.
“I have never treated you as a prop,” Taylor said, his hand remaining steady on continue reading …
ADVERTISEMENT