Ashley Bowen got into the car. She realized the meal had somehow broken the awkward tension between her and Yuri Sinclair.
She stole a glance at Yuri Sinclair. He was leaning back against the seat, resting with his eyes closed. He spoke softly, "Aaron, close the privacy shade and tell the driver to get moving."
"Yes, sir." At the command, Aaron pressed a button on the console, and a thick, rolling shade descended, closing off the front of the car from Ashley Bowen's view.
The shade was so tightly woven that she couldn't see a thing through it.
The rear passenger area was now its own isolated, confined space.
Ashley Bowen held her breath, afraid that the slightest sound of her breathing would betray how nervous she was.
"So, have you made a decision?"
The man who had been feigning sleep suddenly spoke.
