Chapter 639: 639

Chapter 639: Magic carpet ride

He could still hear his father in his head as he sat in his car, replaying the last minutes of their interaction. He still could not believe that his father would do this to him.

After his father’s last word, he turned around and left the building fuming, like he was about to explode. He rammed his hand on the steering wheel, hoping to release the tension in his entire body.

“Now, I know what Alex felt in this situation.” Lance suddenly remembered his cousin going through the same situation, feeling the frustration bubbling within him.

Then, his phone rang but seeing the name on the screen only angered him more. It was his father again, probably not through with his scheme. He stared at the caller for a few seconds, unable to answer the call.

Suddenly, he smashed the phone on the side of the car, venting his anger on the innocent machine. It had stopped ringing as expected as it shattered into pieces on the floor.

“This is insane.” He told himself as he geared up the car and revved its engine.

It was the only few things that could calm him down when he was in such a stressful situation. The hum of the motors as it roared to life could slow down his heart, contrary to what others might think.

.....

The world around him would disappear, and his focus would only be centered on the road ahead. Nothing else mattered but the road that would lead him to his goal.

After a few more minutes, he suddenly realized that he was supposed to be somewhere else. “Damn! How can I forget?” Now, he was rushing to his real destination.

He pulled out of the parking lot, revving his motor once again. Then, he sped out of their property into the main road. He checked his watch and figured he had already wasted so much time.

“Call her.” He immediately reminded himself as he swerved to the traffic. Then, he grabbed his phone from his pocket, only to remember that he had smashed it into pieces.

Looking at the phone’s condition, lying on the carpet of his car, he believed there was no way it would still be functioning. He had no way of calling her to say that he was sorry for being late.

He just had to make it there on time before she gave up and left without waiting for him. But he would not blame her if she did. He would have done the same thing under the same circumstances.

“You should not have fallen into his trap.” He said to himself, feeling like an animal caught inside a cage.

He slammed one of his hands on the steering wheel again, feeling hopeless for the time being. Then, he jammed his foot on the gas, wanting the speed to drown his thoughts.

If he was an ordinary driver doing what he was doing on the street, he would have already slammed onto something. But the road was his life, and speed was his friend.

Finally, he had arrived at his destination, thankfully complete with all his teeth and limbs. He handed his keys to the valet, hoping to catch his lunch date.

“Is Ms. Eida Harlowe still inside?” He asked the hostess by the door, hopeful that she might still be waiting.

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He stretched his neck inside, wishing to see a glimpse of her at one of the nearby tables, but he could not find her. She could be situated somewhere in the back of the restaurant. He concluded as he waited for the woman to confirm her presence.

“I am sorry, but I was out earlier, but the waiter inside told me that she had already left a few minutes ago.” The woman said regretfully, wondering if the prince was here on a date with the reporter or was it purely business.

It was common in their restaurant to spot famous people, celebrities, high in society, and royalties out on a date. And the two could fall into the category.

“Thank you, Miss.” He turned around and asked the valet to get his car. He was not hungry anyway, but he had something else he had to do.

Quickly, he returned to his car and drove away. After a few minutes, he had a new phone. He called his secretary, asking her to text him a few numbers he would be needing.

And seconds later, his new phone was ringing. But nobody was answering his call. It just kept going to her voicemail. He just realized that she was not accepting his calls.

“I am sorry, there was some form of emergency that needed my attention. I would have called you up, but my phone was accidentally damaged. I am really sorry for being late.” Then, he suddenly hung up.

He drove until he found a decent parking space and stopped on the side. Then, he slumped down, face down, with his arms hugging the wheel.

“What is wrong with you?” He asked, finally questioning his sanity.

He wondered if he was going crazy, speeding up on the busy street like a maniac only to see her and apologize for being late. Then, he was begging on the voicemail like he had committed a capital crime.

He rubbed his face, trying to clear his mind. He believed he had temporarily gone mental due to the stress he felt. He breathed deeply, hoping to rid himself of this insanity.

Then, his phone rang, and seeing her name on the screen, he decided not to answer. He was done appearing like an idiot, desperate for her attention.

“If Eida, I mean, Ms. Harlowe, calls and sets up another appointment, put her on the last of my list for tomorrow.” He instructed his secretary.

In the meantime, he wanted to forget about the reporter and his father. They were already consuming most of his thoughts, clouding his judgment.

He knew that going back to the office would be out of the question. He would not be able to concentrate anyway, he decided.

“Cancel all my remaining appointments. I will not be able to go back to the office today.” He told his secretary as an additional thought.

He ended the call, not giving his secretary any further instructions. She would know what to do and where to call him if there was an emergency that would require his attention.

He pulled away from the curb and immediately sped up, knowing where he was supposed to go. It was the only place he wished to be during times like this.

Hardly an hour later, he was speeding up with no one to stop him. There were no traffic stoplights, no police to watch out for, and nothing blocking his way. Not that the police would be able to catch him anyway.

He was in his element, doing what he always loved to do. This time, he was alone, with only the road ahead of him as his company and the roaring machine as his mate.

The world could go into chaos, but he would be protected in his private bubble. That consisted of fiberglass, metals, and an engine that could make a car fly high like he was in a magic carpet ride.

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