Franklin Roth should have been in Atherton, California by now, but something held him back. Yesterday, on his way to O'Hare International Airport, he received a phone call about a business proposal too enticing to ignore.
It was the real reason he had traveled to Chicago, aside from meeting his twin brother. He called his mother, apologizing for the sudden change of plans, his voice tight with guilt.
On his way to meet the client downtown, Franklin's car jolted forward as he accidentally bumped into the vehicle ahead.
The red taillights shattered under the impact. He cursed under his breath. Accidents, minor or major, were unusual for him, and quickly stepped out, prepared to compensate the driver.
But fate had a cruel sense of humor. The driver was none other than his soon-t
