It must be some kind of trick they teach guys, because it usually takes me at least ten minutes to get a cabbie’s attention outside of our building. Wade manages to make one appear in front of him nearly before his hand is even fully extended to flag one down. Thankfully, the seminar is being held at a nearby hotel. I don’t think I could trust myself to be in the cab with Wade for too long. Stupid thoughts come tumbling out of my mouth pretty frequently, and I’d rather not have him thinking I’m a complete idiot. We’re silent for a time as the cab pulls away from the curb. I face forward, trying to ignore the dank, musty smell of the cab's interior, but can feel Wade's eyes on me, the whole time. Is he studying me or something? Knowing my luck, there's probably a snag in my pants, or I probably spilled coffee on myself and didn’t even realize it. "How long have you worked for Emerson Global?” he asks, finally, breaking the silence. I risk a tiny glance at him from the corner of my eye and say, “Almost a year, now.”
