Isabelle wasn't sure how she ended up in the car, her mind buzzing with the man's last words. So, did he recognize her?
What did "have a good arranged date" mean?
What did he want? To give her his blessing?
Isabelle's mind was a tangled mess when her phone rang, waking her up. She glanced at the caller ID and saw the words "Queen Mother," involuntarily bending down to hold her head.
On the other end, Mrs. Martin patiently dialed the number again and again. Isabelle knew she couldn't avoid it, so she resigned herself to answering, drearily calling out, "Mom."
"Have you left yet? The appointment is at seven, don't be late. Did you see the address? Don't go to the wrong place." As soon as the call connected, Mrs. Martin's words came like a barrage of bullets.
"Got it." Isabelle felt even more deflated.
But Isabelle's sudden compliance puzzled Mrs. Martin. "You better not be planning to stand him up, Isabelle."
