Surprises in a Taxi Ride

Nicole's fingers tightened around the edge of her seat as she repeated the question. "You're a taxi driver?"

Ethan peered back at her in the rearview mirror, his lips twisting in a knowing smile. "Yep! That's me. Surprised?"

"Umm… not really," Nicole replied, choosing her words with tact. 

She kept her expression impassive, but the fact was, she was well and truly stumped. 

A taxi driver paying such a huge bill as if he were buying a candy?

"Well," Nicole said, tilting her head, "I guess I'm just curious how a 'humble taxi driver' could afford to shell out that kind of cash back at the hospital like it's pocket change."

Ethan's smile broadened, and his dark eyes sparkled with mirth. "I figured you'd ask that. The thing is, I'm not just a taxi driver. I own five other taxis and have drivers working for me. They pay me a percentage of their earnings, and it all adds up."

Nicole raised her eyebrows, genuinely impressed. "That's… actually really smart. Hard work and diligence, huh?"

"Exactly," he replied, flashing her another grin. "And it beats sitting behind a desk all day."

She nodded, though something told her there was more to his story than he was letting on. 

But she decided not to push further, sensing his boundaries.

As they drove, Ethan glanced at her through the mirror again. "So, Ms. Fury, want to know what else I'm good at?"

Nicole smirked. "Should I be worried about the direction this conversation is taking?"

"Oh, definitely," Ethan teased. "For example, I can tell you just what kind of person you are by where you sit in a car."

Nicole's eyes widened as she was intrigued despite herself. "Oh really? And what does my seat say about me?"

"You're sitting in the back, which means you're reserved, maybe a little guarded. But you're also polite, you didn't demand the front seat. Probably too polite, though. Bet you even apologize to the furniture when you bump into it."

Nicole burst out laughing. "What? That's ridiculous!"

"Ah, so you admit it's true," he quipped, shooting her a quick wink.

"I don't apologize to furniture!" she protested, her laughter spilling out uncontrollably.

"Well, if you say so. But next time you stub your toe on a coffee table, I want you to remember this conversation."

Nicole shook her head, still laughing. 

The ride to the Grand Horizon Hotel flew by, leaving her wishing it had taken longer. 

After such a long time that felt like forever, she had smiled, laughed even.

When they finally arrived the hospital, Ethan handed her a business card, a sleek, professional one that really threw her off.

"A business card?" Nicole repeated, staring at it. "What kind of taxi driver has a business card?"

"This one," he replied with a wink. "Call me if you ever need a ride or anything else."

Nicole hesitated for a moment but accepted the card with a nod. "Thank you. For everything."

"Anytime," Ethan said, tipping an imaginary hat before driving off.

........................

Inside the Grand Horizon Hotel, Nicole approached the front desk. 

The girl at the reception counter met her with a beaming smile.

"Welcome to the Grand Horizon. How may I help you?"

"I would like a room, please," Nicole said. "Just something comfortable, nothing really fancy."

"Okay, that's fine," she replied, typing away into her computer. "And would you prefer your floor to be on the upper or lower level?

"Upper," Nicole replied.

The moment the receptionist had begun to check the availability, another employee came up to her, leaning in to whisper something in her ear. 

The expression on her face completely changed in a matter of seconds.

"I'm so sorry," she said with rigidity. "It would seem we're all booked up."

Nicole furrowed her eyebrows. "All booked? But you just said—"

"Yes, well, I guess something must have come up. I apologize for your inconvenience.

Nicole's eyes narrowed, darting between the two women. 

She could feel it in the air, the unsaid words. "Right," she muttered, stepping away from the desk.

Outside, Ethan was gone, and Nicole didn't want to call him back. 

She hailed another taxi and headed to a different hotel, hoping for better luck.

The second hotel receptionist seemed far more obliging, until Nicole had barely begun to explain what she needed. 

The woman's face then changed. Subtle, but unmistakable, a flicker of recognition, followed by discomfort.

The receptionist excused herself and returned with the manager.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Fury," the manager said. His tone was firm but apologetic. "But we can't accommodate you."

Nicole's brow furrowed. "What? Why not?"

He sighed, looking really uncomfortable. "Your... reputation. It wouldn't be good for our business."

Nicole's mouth fell open. "Are you serious?"

"I'm afraid so," he replied. "We have to maintain our image."

Anger bubbled up inside her, but she swallowed it down. 

She turned and left without another word, her heart heavy and her thoughts racing.

How could one suddenly become an outcast in her own country?

Outside, on the street, Nicole sat down on a bench several blocks away from the hotel, putting her head in her hands. 

She had no home, no allies, and now it seemed even strangers were against her.

She knew this was the doing of Veronica or her son - Taylor - that prick. They must've really want her completely out of the city.

As she sat there, she noticed people walking by, their eyes darting between her and their phones. 

Some stared outright, others whispered as they passed.

Something was wrong.

Nicole pulled out her phone and typed her name into the search bar. What came next made her stomach churn.

Her name was everywhere, across articles and videos. 

Headlines were screaming about her being dragged from a hotel by the police along with edited clips and disturbing captions.

Her hands shook as she scrolled through the endless streams of hate. 

First, the tears came slow; then, faster, spilling down her cheeks as the weight of it all crushed her. 

Her marriage, her baby, her dignity, everything had been ripped away.

She was so lost in her despair that she almost didn't notice the commotion a few feet away.

An elderly woman, she had gray hair that was in a loose bun, had hailed a taxi but was struggling to climb in. 

As Nicole watched, the taxi pulled away, leaving the woman stumbling back.

She tried again with another taxi, and her frail body betrayed her, sending her almost falling. 

Nicole hesitated, unsure whether to intervene.

She reached out for the third time, managed to get hold of the door handle but seemed incapable of lifting her legs up into the car. 

Nicole couldn't take it anymore. 

She picked up her bag and jogged over to assist.

"Here, let me," she said softly, laying a steadying hand on the woman's arm.

The woman turned to face her, and Nicole froze.

The elderly woman's eyes widened in shock. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling. "Nicole… my daughter. You're alive!"