Chapter 5
Ajori
The Uber app pinged just as I dropped Kyrin off with Lainey for the evening. Four hours was all I promised myself—and him—that I’d be out. Not to mention it was Thanksgiving.
Yup… I was working on Thanksgiving. Bills don’t take holidays, and neither does real life.
If anything, holidays were the best time to drive working for Uber. People felt more generous when they were full, and drunk folks with money rarely argued about surge prices. So while everybody else was with their families, laughing, arguing over who made the best mac and cheese, turning up for the night, or carving another piece of ham, I was out carving out another piece of survival in the bustling city.
My pickup was at an upscale cigar lounge downtown, a place known for its rich ambiance and clientele.
Passenger name: Marcos.
I glanced at the screen again before pulling off.
Upscale usually meant one of two things: a rider who tipped good… or one who acted like the person driving them didn’t exist. Either way, I needed the money.
The lounge sat on a corner where luxury cars lined the curb.
With a resigned sigh, I pulled up to the entrance and tapped ‘Arrived’ on my app.
A few seconds passed, then the door to the lounge opened. Three men stepped out, but only one of them walked toward my car. The other two stayed behind the rope, talking. The guy approaching the car, who I assumed was Marcos, stood tall. Although he looked Mexican, his style suggested he moved comfortably in different circles. His fit was simple, but the quality spoke for itself.
“Marcos?” I asked, leaning over to unlock the door.
“That’s me,” he replied, his voice deep and smooth, devoid of the slurred undertones of alcohol. That alone told me he wasn’t the average cigar lounge customer. He seemed more observant than anything, casually taking in his surroundings as he slid into the back seat, placing a big duffel bag beside him.
Most riders would typically dive into their phones or engage me in small talk immediately… not him. He simply stared out the window; his expression contemplative.
For the first few minutes, the only sounds that filled the car were the distant wails of sirens, the faint bass from passing cars, and the occasional laughter echoing through the night air.
I took another glimpse of him in the rearview mirror. That time, he wasn’t looking at the view; he was watchingme.
“You been driving long tonight?” he asked, breaking the silence with a conversational tone.
“Nope… you’re my first pickup.”
“Lucky me,” he replied, a hint of humor in his voice. “You always work on holidays?” he added, keeping the conversation light.
“Depends on the bills,” I shrugged. “They don’t celebrate Thanksgiving.”
He chuckled softly, a sound rich with understanding. “I feel that. Money doesn’t take a day off for nobody.”
After that, he leaned back against the seat and got absorbed in his phone. Unlike some male passengers, Marcos didn’t give off any flirting intentions; instead, it felt like he was studying me… assessing more than just my driving skills.
What exactly? I had no idea.
Be that as it may,Marcos was one fine ass Mexican… and not in a pretty-boy sense either, more in that smooth, dangerous kind of way. The dim interior lights reflected off his light brown skin, showing off his sharp haircut and perfectly laid hair, making him look put together without even trying. His skin was so clear it almost looked airbrushed. When he talked, a flash of a grill caught the light every now and then, but somehow it didn’t look corny on him… it fit. And the way he spoke hinted he’d spent considerable time around Black folks. The slang rolled off his tongue naturally, not forced.
We fell back into silence, but that time it wasn’t awkward; it felt intentional. Then, as we were passing under the highway, a black SUV suddenly swerved into my lane, missing my bumper by mere inches.
“Shit!” I muttered, slamming on the brakes hard enough to jolt us forward.
Marcos remained unfazed. He simply looked at me calmly and asked, “You alright?”
“Yeah.” I exhaled slowly, my heart still racing as I eased back into the lane. “Some people just don’t know how to drive.”
He gave a small, almost approving smile. “You always this calm in situations like that? Most women would’ve laid on the horn, cussed them out, maybe even chased ‘em down.”