The black sedan stopped in front of the North Hollywood Apartment. Thomas was just about to take out his phone when Martin came out of the entrance, pulled open the passenger door, got into the car, and said, "Let's go, Warner Bros. Studios."
Today was the final round of auditions.
Thomas started the car and headed for Burbank.
After driving through an intersection, he realized something wasn't right and quickly figured it out, "Why aren't you driving? Martin, I'm your agent, not your driver."
"Don't fuss over these trivial matters," Martin shifted Thomas's attention effortlessly, "I have to attend an audition shortly and need to stay energized."
Thomas accepted this explanation, not only driving at ease but also maintaining a smooth speed to prevent any discomfort for Martin, as attentive as a personal chauffeur.
The client's opportunities were also his.
Martin pulled down the sun visor and tidied up his cropped hair in the mirror.