“Well, it’s not every day that a beautiful woman climbs inside my car and berates me for giving her a workout.” He replies with a grin.
Feeling my face warm for the second time, I count myself lucky that my embarrassment is mild. I can’t blame this man for my mistake. No matter how tempting it is to shift the blame off my shoulders and onto his. I am fortunate he is kind enough to drive me back to work.
“Here we are.” The man says as he parks in front of my office building.
“Thanks again.” I say reaching into my purse and grabbing my wallet. Thumbing through, I select a few bills that cover what I would have paid Travis. Despite his protests I force the money into his hand. I notice as I grab his hand that he has thick calluses on his palms.
“This really ain’t necessary.” He argues. “I was going this way anyway.”
“I forced myself into your car. This should cover gas.” I insist.
Grabbing the door handle I am turning to exit when he spins around and drops the money back into my purse.
“You have to let me pay you back!” I yell.
“Why is this so important to you?” He yells back. “I’m just trying to be nice! Ain’t that what Christmas is all about?”
“Well yes. But I was so rude to you!” I say.
For a moment we stare at each other, neither willing to back down. I see tan skin peaking through the unbuttoned collar of his shirt, and it distracts me for longer than I will ever admit.
“You know what? Let me buy you dinner then.” I say, waiting for him to scoff at my invitation. I blame the shirt.
For another moment he doesn’t speak. His eyes dip to look at my legs and then slowly rise back to my face. He doesn’t even bother to hide the fact he is checking me out. My cheeks began to burn as he remains silent.
“Text me when you leave work. You look like the type to burn the midnight oil.” He says as he whips out a business card and a pen, quickly scrawling out his personal number on the back.
“I’ll meet you here.” He says, handing me the business card.
Nodding and refusing to make eye contact I quickly scramble out of his SUV with a quick, “See you later.”
Oliver
I waited for the petite redhead to enter the office building before pulling back into traffic. She was something else. My brain had short circuited when she had climbed into the back seat.
Her red hair was pinned up with just a few strands framing her face. Bright blue eyes were framed by large glasses and when she turned her gaze to mine she was all business. Even with a smile on her face she was direct and demanding. She was dressed in business professional with her sweater and pencil skirt, but those heels were tall stilettos. The kind she could wear to dinner and to bed.
It is really no surprise I caved and drove her back to her job. The entire ride I was cursing myself as a fool. The attractive woman bossing me around had flipped a switch I didn’t know I had. Any other time I would have explained the mix up and politely asked the unwanted passenger to escort themselves to the sidewalk.
With her I was tongue tied. I didn’t even laugh when her actual driver called her. A small smile had stretched across my face before I could stop it. I had to tilt my chin to keep her from seeing it in the rearview mirror. But as I contained my humor, I saw her cheeks flush with embarrassment and guilt stripped away my smirk.
Her arrogance had drained away, and I was left with an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Glancing in my rear-view mirror I saw her fidgeting with her coffee cup and the strap of her purse. I didn’t want her to lose that self-assured attitude.
Like the world was hers for the taking and it just didn’t know it yet.
Then she tried to pay me. All her arrogance surging to the front like it had never left. Like I was going to take her money for a five-minute ride. My mother would have skinned me and framed my hide.
Her purse was Prada, a twin to my sister Penelope’s. My brother-in-law had complained a little too loudly about the price. Pen had gone back and bought the same purse in a different color out of spite and given a third one to our mom.
Darren never complained about a price tag again. Wise man.
The red bottomed shoes and designer handbag were dead giveaways that my feisty little stowaway was into the finer things. Probably spent more on her clothing than her rent. The type of girl I would never date.
Until now.
I was trying to be smooth when dropping her off at the office building. I was gonna give her my business card and invite her out for a drink. But first we had fought over her paying me. Utterly ridiculous. And then she beat me to the punch.
Her dinner invitation was unexpected to say the least. Never thought I would meet my match outside a coffee shop. I didn’t even get her name, or properly introduce myself.
