The dashboard cast a pale blue glow across his collar. He adjusted his tie twice, his fingers lingering on the silk knot, before he finally turned his head to look at me.
“Are you going to open your door?” I asked.
He did not move his hands from the wheel. He tapped his thumb against the leather wrap, three slow beats, then checked his watch, tapping the face twice.
“We have exactly three minutes before seven,” I said, looking at the digital clock glowing on the dashboard.
“I can see the time, Elena,” he said, his voice dropping into that quiet, sharp register he used when he wanted to ensure he had my full attention.
He adjusted his collar again, his fingers tapping against his neck. “And I can see what you are wearing. Did you honestly think I wouldn’t say anything?”
“I hoped you would say I look nice,” I said, looking down at my hands.
