Vic’s thoughts were rudely brought back to the present when he closed the door and pulled into traffic only to hear his remaining passenger mutter, “Finally.”
The steering wheel groaned in protest. Vic relaxed his hands, opening them—his boss had warned him the next one he broke would come out of his pay. But God, he hated assholes.
As he headed downtown, the only sound inside the bus was the businessman’s obnoxious voice. Before long, Vic gripped the steering wheel again, this time to keep from ripping that damn Bluetooth off the guy’s ear. He wouldn’t be sorry to see thisfare go—as it was, he couldn’t drive fast enough to the bus stop where the man would exit. Vic should’ve said something for that comment about Roger, though. Sure, he was at work, and yeah, it could get him reprimanded, but he should have spoken up. His own silence seemed like compliance or, worse, agreement, and that rankled more than the businessman’s laugh ever could.