The cab driver gave her a lingering look that seemed to see beyond her undergarments and what lay beneath her skin. He must think I'm crazy, Isabella thought. Crazy to have so much time to spare in a world where everyone seemed to be in a rush.
Isabella gave him enough time to make up his mind. She could see the disapproving look in his eyes but she knew that in the end, only one thing mattered. His payment and a good tip. If she could meet both criteria, then he had no other option than to grant her wish.
"How much exactly are we talking about?" He finally asked. His accent was not native American. It was somewhat between Middle-Eastern and Arab but the interesting thing was that he didn't look like them. His face was shaved clean and the hair on his head looked fairly American.
Isabella came back to herself, realizing that she had to answer the question that had just been thrown at her if she did not want things to get more awkward.
