A Night of Desire

In the blink of an eye, Clara Grant’s scenes were finally wrapped up. Her part finished a day before the entire production, so she didn’t wait to return with the crew, nor did she stick around for the wrap party. What’s more, she didn’t tell Seth Quinn she was coming back to the city.

Because she wanted to surprise Seth Quinn, she hailed a cab and headed back on her own.

Sitting in the taxi, she gazed at the passing scenery and couldn’t help but feel a little sentimental. She remembered the day she joined the cast; every moment was still so vivid, yet it felt as though she had finished filming the entire show in the blink of an eye.

Although the process was hard to put into words, she felt she had delivered a satisfactory performance for her first-ever show.

There was very little traffic, so the ride was smooth. Clara was gazing intently out the window when the driver suddenly stopped.

Clara pulled her gaze from the window and looked ahead. Just as she was about to ask why they’d stopped, she saw a young man tapping on the taxi window.

Clara saw that the man was holding a child who looked to be about a year old. For some reason, the child was wailing, tears streaming from his big eyes.

The taxi driver rolled down his window, and the sound of the child’s crying filled the car. The man gently patted the child to soothe him, speaking urgently to the driver, "Sir, our cab broke down on the road. It’s so hot today, and he’s so little... The heat’s making him cry nonstop. So, could you possibly give us a ride?"

As he spoke, the man’s eyes flicked to Clara in the back seat, a hopeful look in them.

An extra passenger meant an extra fare for the driver, so of course he wouldn’t refuse outright, but his current passenger might not be so willing.

Sure enough, the driver turned to Clara and asked hesitantly, "Miss, what do you think...?"

Clara had already seen a taxi parked on the roadside; it must have been theirs.

She looked again at the child, who was bawling his eyes out in the man’s arms—a pitiful sight. The man, whether from the heat or the stress, had sweat trickling down his own forehead.

Clara, who had always loved children, felt a pang of sympathy as she watched the baby. She nodded and said, "Let them get in."

The driver agreed instantly. "Alrighty," he said, then unlocked the car doors.

The man nodded at Clara repeatedly in thanks. He first ran back to grab his luggage, put it in the trunk, and then got in the car.

Since children can’t ride in the front seat, the man naturally got into the back with the child, sitting down next to Clara.

The car started up again and pulled back onto the road. Maybe it was the air conditioning, but the baby slowly stopped crying. He still looked a little pouty, though, his wide, dark eyes darting around.

Clara smiled softly at him, thinking, ’This child is just adorable.’

The man patted his pockets, apparently looking for a tissue. Finding none, he resorted to using his hand to wipe the sweat from the baby’s brow, and then his own.

Seeing this, Clara pulled a pack of tissues from her bag and handed them over. "Sir, use these to wipe off the sweat. Especially for the baby. It’s easy for them to catch a cold when they’re sweaty in the AC."

The man glanced at her, took them, and thanked her gratefully. "Thank you."

"You’re welcome." Clara smiled and shook her head.

The little guy must have heard her voice, because he turned his head to look at her. His little face, which had been scrunched up in a pout just a moment ago, suddenly broke into a smile.

And then, he even reached his little hands out toward her.