22

I greeted a few colleagues passing by as I stood nervously in the parking lot, waiting for Mr. Sturm to arrive. I patted a few specks of dust that are gathered on my dress again for the umpteenth time. My nerves were getting the best of me. And apart from the raw excitement of seeing Mr. Sturm, I could pinpoint the other reason was due to lack of sleep. Four hours of shut-eye was simply not enough for me, nor could it be for anyone else. This morning, as I made coffee, I logged on to Facebook; hopeful to see my Sky Walker online. After waiting a good thirty minutes without seeing the green active dot on his profile, I gave up.

Perhaps he was still pissed at me, thinking I’d ditched him.

Life was so unfair.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t see when Mr. Sturm pulled over in front of me. He got down, murmuring a greeting as he moved over to the other side to open the door for me. “Good morning, Elaine.”

I flushed, startled to see him. “Good morning, Sir,” I unconsciously tucked