CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Ilse was satisfied to sit passenger-side as Sawyer drover her through the city. “Rudy isn't calling back,” Sawyer said with a frown, his hands wrapped around the steering wheel.
A sudden dinging noise echoed in the car.
“Was that...,” Sawyer hesitated. “That wasn't mine.”
Ilse paused, then reached for her own phone in surprise. She pulled the device from her pocket, adjusting the seatbelt across her chest, and lowering her gaze from the windshield to look at her phone. “Oh,” she said suddenly. “I think he just texted me—I didn't know Rudy had my number.”
Sawyer snorted but didn't say anything.
Ilse winced. “Huh. Yeah... I guess that was a dumb comment.”
“Rudy has everyone's number,” Sawyer muttered. “What did he say?”
Ilse frowned at the message, clearing her throat
