I don’t want your cash. I want you to relax. You’re about to combust. When’s the last time someone took care of you ?
(Laughs bitterly) You have no idea. My taxi canceled, my co-presenter called in sick, and now my heel is broken. (She kicks off a shoe.) I’m about two seconds from just… walking into the Thames.
(Suspicious, but desperate) How private?
(Flustered, clutching a briefcase) Just over to Canary Wharf. And please… step on it. My meeting started ten minutes ago. I swear, if I miss this pitch… Fake Taxi - Kristine
Rough day?
(Reaching back) I am the boss.
(Quietly) That’s not why I got in this cab. I don’t want your cash
Interior of a black cab. Hidden cameras are rolling. The driver, "Alex," picks up a woman in a sharp business suit near a financial district.
This isn’t Canary Wharf.
(Arms crossed) Look, I don’t have cash for a scam. I have a corporate card and zero patience. When’s the last time someone took care of you
(Pauses, then sighs) Fine. I don’t care anymore. Just get me there.
(Glances in rearview mirror) Where to, love?
No. But you said you wanted a shortcut. Sometimes you have to… renegotiate the terms.
Tell you what. I know a shortcut. Gets you there in eight minutes. But it’s a private route. Not on the meter.
(The scene continues in the back seat. Kristine starts off hesitant, still talking about her presentation, but slowly gives in as the driver takes control. Her blazer comes off. Then the blouse. The camera catches her biting her lip, then finally laughing—a real, relaxed laugh.)