Page 28 of Chasing Gold, Catching Her

Unknown Number: Did you get there at all? P.S. this is Tora, save my number as Tora, the best figure skater on planet Earth.

Alisa laughed quietly and rolled her eyes, but the smile that appeared on her face glowed so brightly that it was almost embarrassing.

Oh, this is bad…

Alisa: We just landed, I’m waiting for a taxi, and you’re not the best figure skater on planet Earth, calm down.

Tora: We’ll talk about that again, babe. Text me when you get home, okay?

Alisa: okay…

Alisa nearly gasped. She stood there with her mouth slightly open, exhaling steam into the cold air and smiling.

No, no, no, no.

Smiling at messages was a bad sign. Damn, damn, damn.

Alisa muttered it through clenched teeth and immediately tried to wipe the smile from her face.

Because it meant that… she cared.

And Tora cared.

She would not have written otherwise…

It was so strange, so strange to receive concern from someone from whom she had expected absolutely nothing. Did Tora know that no one was waiting for her at home?

Alisa swallowed nervously and looked down at the phone again.

Silence.

Only Markul’s album continued to play in her headphones, calming the frantic beat of her heart and slowly returning a little confidence back into her blood. His songs had always been like that for her, even if they were about completely different girls, sometimes he said things that gave her goosebumps and somehow made her feel better, made her believe in herself a little more.

“And here’s my taxi,” Alisa said quietly to herself, noticing the correct license plate.

A black Mercedes-Benz W222, it looked like a 2020 model.

The driver, dressed in a black suit and white gloves, immediately got out of the car and said:

“Good evening.”

Alisa nodded, rolling her suitcase toward him, and he took it with obvious ease and loaded it into the trunk.

Then, after closing it, he walked around the car and opened the rear door for her.

“Thank you,” Alisa said quietly and sat down inside.

Soft music was playing very quietly in the cabin.

The driver took his seat, and before pulling away from the curb, he asked:

“Would you like to put on your own music?”

Alisa nodded.

As soon as the car started moving and she connected her phone to the sound system, Markul’s album continued through the speakers, and Alisa noticed how the driver smiled faintly.

“Do you listen to him too?”