Chapter 1- THE TAXI WAR
Seattle rain didn’t fall it claimed. It slid down buildings, soaked through denim in seconds, and blurred out the entire skyline until the city felt like one big watercolor painting dripping at the edges.
Mia Parker shoved her curls out of her face as she sprinted down the slick sidewalk, her breath short, her lungs burning, her tote bag slamming against her hip with every frantic step. The crosswalk signal flashed a stubborn red. She ignored it. She ran anyway.
Because her bus the one bus she needed was pulling away from the stop.
“Wait!” she wheezed, splashing through a puddle that definitely wasn’t just rainwater. “Please—stop!”
The bus didn’t slow down. Not even a guilty flicker of brake lights.
Mia stopped running. Her head dropped back, rain hitting her face like cold needles.
“Great,” she muttered. “Cool. Awesome. Love this journey for me.”
She checked her phone.
8:07 a.m.
Interview at 8:30.
She could feel her stomach tighten. She wasn’t just going to be late she was going to be the kind of late that made employers whisper, She didn’t really want it.
And that hurt, because she did want it. She needed this internship like oxygen.
She opened the Uber app, thumb trembling slightly.
Driver arriving: Silver Toyota Prius. License plate 4XN…
A silver Prius rolled up to the curb.
No time to question anything. No time to think.
She grabbed the door handle, yanked it open, and slid inside and froze.
A man sat in the far seat of the back row. Dress shirt perfectly pressed. Tie straight. Expression annoyingly calm.
He blinked at her like she’d just teleported into existence.
Mia blinked back.
The driver sighed.
“This is… not your Uber?” the man asked carefully.
“It is,” she said, showing her phone. Her voice went up half an octave. “See?”
He slowly lifted his phone. “It’s also mine.”
The driver turned around fully now, one arm over the seat.
“Congratulations,” he said dryly. “You’ve both been selected for this morning’s glitch ride.”
Mia squinted. “That’s… a thing?”
“Once every blue moon. Or in this case,” he gestured to the rain-soaked street, “every Seattle morning.”
The man beside her exhaled, and it wasn’t irritated it was controlled. Like he was trying very hard not to show irritation.
“I have a meeting in twenty minutes,” he said.
“And I have an interview,” Mia snapped.
“Okay,” he said calmly. “But you’re the one who barged into the car.”
“It literally pulled up for me!”
“It pulled up for both of us.”
Her jaw clenched. “What, are you some kind of Uber philosopher?”
He gave a short, almost hidden laugh through his nose.
“Just someone who uses the app correctly.”
Her glare could’ve melted steel.
The driver rubbed his temples. “Look, we’re wasting time. Decide. Ride together, or I cancel on both of you.”
They stared each other down for one long, uncomfortable second.
Mia broke first. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll share.”
The man nodded. “Same.”
The driver threw his hands up. “Finally.”
Mia scooted as far from him as possible. He stayed straight-backed, eyes forward, like sitting next to her was a test of posture.
The car pulled into traffic, wipers fighting a losing battle with the rain.
For a full minute, neither spoke.
Then she caught him glancing at her.
“You’re dripping on the seat,” he said, voice low and matter-of-fact.
She looked at the wet imprint spreading beneath her.
“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t bring a portable dryer with me.”
His lips twitched. Just once.
Then his face reset like a system reboot.
He was… handsome. In that clean, structured way. Neat dark hair. Sharp jawline. Eyes too observant for a stranger. He looked like he woke up early on purpose.
She hated him a little for that.
Traffic slammed to a stop.
The driver grumbled. “Of course. Pike Street at rush hour.”
Mia pressed her palms to her face. “I’m gonna be late.”
The man beside her stayed quiet for a moment. Then—
“What’s the interview for?”
She peeked at him. “Why? Going to tell me I’m unprepared?”
“No,” he said simply. “Just asking.”
Her chest loosened a little.
“It’s for an internship at Carter & Holt.”
He blinked.
“Carter & Holt?”
“What? Why do you sound alarmed?”
“That’s… where I work.”
Her stomach dropped. “You’re lying.”
He shook his head. “I’m not.”
“Like… as what? Janitor? Part-time mood killer?”
He actually laughed — quick, unexpected, real.
“I’m an architect. Assistant to one of the partners.”
Mia stared at him, horrified.
“So basically, I jumped into a stranger’s Uber and verbally attacked someone who might influence the place I want to work?”
“I’m not going to report you,” he said.
“You better not!”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s a desperate request!”
Another strangled laugh escaped him.
They hit a pothole. Mia’s cup — EMPTY, she thought —
Wrong.
It exploded upward, splattering cold coffee across his sleeve.
“Oh my God.” Her voice cracked. “I’m so sorry.”
He looked at the stain like it personally offended him.
“It’s fine,” he whispered. His jaw tightened. “It’s just… coffee.”
“It’s on your very expensive-looking shirt!”
“You don’t know it’s expensive.”
“I absolutely do. Look at the stitching!”
He stared at her, baffled.
“Why are you noticing stitching?”
“I… don’t know!” she cried.
Silence.
Then his mouth curved tiny, involuntary.
Mia felt heat crawl up her neck at the way he was looking at her now. Like she’d cracked a part of him open he didn’t expect.
Traffic finally loosened. The car rolled forward.
“You should drop him first,” Mia told the driver, crossing her arms. “He actually works there.”
“I’m not more important,” the man said.
“Just let me be nice, okay?”
He paused. Something unreadable softened in his eyes.
“…Thank you.”
Her breath hitched. She looked away quickly.
When they reached the firm, he opened the door and stepped out into the rain. He took a few steps, then stopped.
Turned.
Mia felt it — the shift. The strange, fragile thread that tied them for a second too long.
“You should still come,” he said.
“Even if you’re late.”
She swallowed. “You won’t tell them about the coffee incident, right?”
“I’ll keep your crimes between us,” he said lightly.
“My crimes?”
He almost smiled.
He took a step back, rain running down his jawline. “Good luck, Mia.”
Her breath trembled. “How do you know my name?”
He lifted his phone. The shared ride screen glowed.
“Oh,” she whispered.
He nodded once and disappeared through the doors.
As the Prius pulled away, the driver muttered, “You two argue like you’re married.”
Mia stared out the rain-blurred window.
“Married?” she scoffed. “We literally hated each other.”
But her heart — traitorous, stupid — thudded once, hard.
Because she wasn’t sure hate was the right word.
Maybe it was something else.
Something she wasn’t ready to name.
Not yet.
But the feeling lingered, warm and unnervingly alive, long after the building disappeared behind her.
And for the first time that morning, she realized:
This… didn’t feel like the end of anything.
It felt like the beginning of a chapter she wasn’t supposed to open yet.
But somehow had.
