chapter two
Mark
shoved the backpack into the backseat of the cab and then got in, heaving a huge
sigh. Closing the door of the cab, he looked out to face a pair of furious eyes
glaring down at him.
What
the hell did I do?
Mark thought irritably as he glared back at the young woman who was on the same
flight he was on. All I asked for was a nice holiday and this is how it
begins. I should just go back to touring.
"Where
would you be going sir?" the cab driver asked, looking into his rearview
mirror.
"The
Ritz," Mark said, turning away from the object of his distaste. At least he
would never see her again.
But
she wasn’t that bad looking, he thought as they pulled away from the airport. Perfect example of
how looks aren’t everything.