progress at least?

Stuck in an Arranged Marriage with the Popular Playboy

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Chapter 18: progress at least?

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“Would you mind walking a little faster?” I call over my shoulder.

Elijah raises his head, blinking at me in bafflement. He had been gawking at his phone before that, playing Candy Crush. He locks his phone and stores it in the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

“Excuse me?” he says, speeding up, “I’m not the one who insisted on getting smoothies before take-off”, he says, having reached my side.

The two of us are hurrying through the halls of the airport, each carrying a big smoothie and trying my hardest not to bump into people. I was running terribly late. The driver had called me three times already, informing me that my plane must take off soon or else I would have to wait three hours for a free spot in the schedule of the airport.

I know that it was my fault that we were late. Elijah said so already. I insisted on getting smoothies before take-off and the people, who prepared them, moved in