Zach Herron
➵
I breathe in deeply and roll over on my side, feeling a wave of utter comfort wash over me when my face hits a fresh, cold part of the pillow. It takes a lot of effort to open my eyes but I manage to do so, motivated by the fact that I'll see Zach.
I move closer to him, laying my arm on top of his and playing with his fingers. I watch a small, sleepy smile creep onto his face.
I close my eyes again, drifting between the blissful line of being asleep and awake. My hazy mind drifts over nothing important until....
I sit up with a jolt, suddenly remembering how many times I pressed the snooze button this morning, and focus on the time displayed on the alarm clock on my bedside table.
"Crap!" I gasp, flailing about.
The tour meeting Zach and I are scheduled to attend begins in thirty minutes. And it takes twenty minutes to drive to the building it will be held in from here.
"Zach!" I say urgently, shaking him. He groans.
"What, what?!" he mumbles, eyes still closed.
"We're late, we are so, so, so, so late!" I yell, scrambling out of bed. I run into the bathroom while Zach rolls off the mattress, muttering incoherent words.
"We need to leave in eight minutes!" I shout as I pull off my last item of clothing and get into the shower.
***
Somehow, in seven minutes I have showered, applied a light layer of makeup, brushed my hair in a somewhat acceptable fashion, and changed into what I hope is suitable for a meeting.
I'm literally hopping out the closet, pulling on my second boot just as Zach rushes out the bathroom. His hands are running through his hair and his eyes are wide.
"Is my hair okay?" he asks me.
"Yep," I say, running to him and readjusting his tie.
"Is this acceptable enough for a meeting?" I say, gesturing at my outfit.
"You look perfect!" he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the bedroom.
I grab the car keys off the hook next to the front door but freeze.
"What?" Zach exclaims, right behind me.
"After dinner last night, we had to park the car at the top of the parking garage, remember? All the spots were taken down at the bottom! We don't have time to go up all those flights of stairs so what-"
"Taxi," Zach says with a grin, taking the keys from my hands and hanging them back on the hook.
We probably look pretty stupid as we run out of our apartment and down the hallway, bumping into each other the whole time. For some reason, we both start laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.
If Zach wasn't holding onto my arm as we raced down those flights of stairs, I swear I would've fallen right down them because I was laughing so hard by then, I couldn't breathe.
We reach the street and Zach runs ahead of me to the curb in front of our apartment complex. Dear goodness, bless this boy.
He raises his arm, simultaneously screaming "Taxi!" and a cab pulls up on the side of the street almost immediately. Glancing back at me and grinning, Zach gets in the vehicle. Seconds later, I've slid onto the leather seat next to him and slammed the door shut.
After Zach rushes through the directions with the taxi driver, I attempt to speak.
"Sir-"
"Ah, I ain't no sir, pretty lady!" the middle aged man exclaims from the front seat. He barks out several obnoxious laughs as he looks at me in the rear view mirror.
"Name's Patrick, call me that."
"Alright, Patrick, we are going to be very late to a very important meeting if we don't leave right now so we'd really appreciate if you drove fast on the way there."
"Oh, I gotta a couple livin' the fast life, huh? Well, fast drivin' is my specialty!"
He laughs again, apparently amused with himself. He grabs a cigarette from a box sitting in a cup holder in the front, lights it, sticks it in his mouth, rolls down his front window, and screams, "Let's go!"
I turn to Zach wide eyed. He's trying not to burst out laughing as much as I am.
And then our maniac of a driver actually begins driving.
Let's just say he puts the term "pedal to the metal" to death.
***
Eighteen hectic minutes later, Zach and I stumble out of the taxi.
That trip almost ended the lives of about seven pedestrians, a dog, three construction workers, and a lone tree that was probably planted by some individuals trying to save the earth.
Patrick drives his cab away from the curb and I stare at the street in a gaze.
"Sweetheart," Zach says, laughing, "you good?"
"Yeah, sorry. That was an... interesting experience."
"(y/n)."
"What?"
"You can release your death grip on my hand now," he says, grinning.
"Oh my word, I'm sorry."
He laughs and wraps an arm around my shoulders. He pulls me close, pressing his lips to my temple. No matter how much I want to stay in this position, I know we need to go.
"The meeting, Zach. We have to go."
He reluctantly let's go of me and just like that, we're moving again.
Once inside, we skip steps up a flight of stairs and slide to a stop when we reach the desk placed in front of the conference rooms. The woman sitting at the computer turns and stares at us expectantly.
"We're here for the tour meeting scheduled for 9 a.m.," Zach says politely.
She nods, glances at her computer screen, and then frowns.
"You are Mr. and Mrs. Herron, yes?" she asks.
"Yes, ma'am," I reply, grabbing Zach's hand and intertwining our fingers.
"Did you receive my email?"
"Oh," I say stupidly, suddenly remembering that in my haste to leave home I didn't grab my phone. "No, I did not. Did you receive anything?" I say, turning to Zach.
"No, I haven't checked my email since last night."
"Oh. Well then," the receptionist says, "I'll tell you the news now. Those who you were intended to meet with today were not able to make it due to several various reasons. I emailed you in order to tell you that the meeting has been moved to tomorrow morning."
