Katherine released a sigh, sinking back into the plush leather of the taxi as she left Zayn's penthouse. The driver, a grizzled man with a weathered face, shot her a curious glance through the rearview mirror. It wasn't hard to see why. She looked like she'd stepped straight out of a red carpet gala, an improbable sight on a regular Sunday morning.
"Where to?" he asked gruffly, starting the engine with a rumble that vibrated through the car.
"23, Ernest Avenue," Katherine replied, pulling out her phone. A wave of amusement washed over her as she saw the barrage of missed calls from Hailey. Seventeen, to be exact, along with a few frantic texts asking if she was okay. She knew she was in for a grilling when she got home. Hailey's worry, she could tell, had reached a level that would make this particular scolding session a rather unpleasant experience.