The Besotted

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This chapter contains material of a sexual nature. Reader discretion is advised.
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Only in this city would you clock out late at work and still find yourself at the back of a massive queue at the taxi rank.

Can't even complain. We just have to endure. This is the only industry where the customer's opinion is really and truly meaningless. Taxi drivers don't care, shem. Your grievances? Take them up with your mother. Meanwhile, you'll still be here, shuffling forward piece by piece, knowing very well that you don't have a choice since you don't have a car.

It is loud in here. It is crowded. I'm exhausted and hungry. And of course, I just had to wear the Louboutins today of all days. The world's most uncomfortable pair of shoes.

I wanted to make a statement. I knew I was going to be the center of attention with everything that went down with Markos yesterday, and I was. There were glances and murmurs all day anywhere I passed, and if they were going to gawk and talk, then I'd give something good to gawk and talk about. Hell, they can say whatever they want about me as long as they never say that I ever looked like trash. I'm that vain, I don't care.

Right now, though, that vanity is showing me flames. These shoes are not to be stood on for long periods of time. My feet are aching something fierce. I wish I brought a pair of slippers or flats like some of the girls do at the office--

The line is moving at a glacial pace, with more people filtering in every minute.

There's even a gentleman behind me who's not giving me any breathing room as if standing all up in my ass is going to make him get a taxi any quicker.

I check my phone to check the time for the nth time and see an incoming call--

Okay?

I doubt I'll hear a word he has to say, but it seems like I've missed a couple of his calls already, so I answer anyway.

"Hey, did you just land?"

"No, I landed a while ago. I tried calling-- where are you? What's that noise?"

"I'm at the taxi rank."

"You're still in the city?" He doesn't sound too pleased with me.

"Yeah, I worked a little late and--"

"And why didn't you call Trevor to come take you home? I gave you his number for this very reason."

"I didn't think of that," It never even crossed my mind.

"It's late Imani, what time are you even going to get home? I can't have you still in the streets, alone at this time of the night."

I roll my eyes, "Dixon, I've been taking the taxi and taking care of myself long before you and Trevor came around. You don't have to worry about me."

He goes silent for a few seconds.

"Send him your location--"

"Dixon--"

"Please, Imani." He doesn't use that word very lightly, so I know it must really be important to him.