The beeping, honking and raised voices followed the car as it weaved in and out of traffic. People jumped out of the way, and drivers jammed on their brakes.
Napoleon held on with one hand and kept a watch out for anyone in their way.
Illya concentrated on the road ahead of him. No words were spoken. Then they were at their destination—Del Floria's tailor shop.
Napoleon got out of the car and headed toward the door.
“Where are you going Napoleon?”
“To medical, I have a headache. And Illya, next time we’re late for work I’ll do the driving.”