A few minutes ago, a message came that your "husband is an hour late" due to traffic jams. Ten more minutes. There is a very strong knock on the door.

— Open up, please!

The guy from the agency where you bought the service sounded a little desperate. You opened it. He was tall and handsome.

— I'm sorry I'm late.. Are you probably mad at me? Did I scare you a lot with that knock?.. I was just afraid I'd get fired.