Summoning all the composure he had left, Patrick approached them. “Excuse me,” he called out, “I’ve been waiting for that spot for over twenty minutes. Could you please—maybe—find another spot? I’m already running late for a very important dinner.”
The girls turned to him, their laughter fading as they took in his appearance—his worn-out suit, his anxious expression, and his old, beaten-up truck. The blonde woman with oversized sunglasses perched on her head, raised an eyebrow.