He rushed through the shower. Once he toweled dry, he had a few seconds to finger-comb his brown hair then throw on a polo shirt and jeans. The traffic snarled because of an accident on his way there. The traffic from their apartment near the Orlando international airport got better as he approached Colonial, passing multiple streetlights in eastern Orlando. Pad timed it well. The shower and drive to the bookstore took him less than forty-five minutes. When he arrived he still had ten minutes before he could clock in so after walking through the entrance, he hooked a right, past the magazine stand and the travel books, then stood in line and ordered a coffee.
Tristan waved him up when it was his turn.
“Starting in a few?” he asked.
Pad nodded. “Hey, let me get my a soy latte with sugar
