His [Book #1]

Chapter 1

Rain poured down heavily in the streets of New Jersey, my short black sequined cocktail dress soaked, and my hair drenched and grossly sticky.

My eyes burned, mascara that had been labeled as "waterproof" when I bought it, leaving a black streak down my cheeks.

'Get the London look' my ass.

More like 'get the crackhead look'.

Blinking repeatedly in the hopes of making my vision clear, I drunkenly staggered around, desperately trying and failing to wave down a taxi.

The rain had sobered me up a bit, making what had been a fun night of clubbing, up until now of course, into a total nightmare.

There's nothing wrong with partying on your own, but it would have been great to have a couple friends with a car so I wouldn't be out on the street looking like I'm advertising to men that I'm looking for a good time when in fact, I'm just trying to get back home to my cat.

I've been living in New Jersey for the past three years now, but haven't had the time to make any friends. My job as a waitress at a local diner in New York keeps me busy at all hours of the day. I wasn't making nearly enough to live on, so I started doing hair as well as manicures and pedicures on the side.

No I'm not working to pay off student loans or anything like that. I didn't even go to college. The truth is, living in New Jersey, especially so close to New York, is expensive as hell.

Getting a painful cramp in my arm from having held it up so long, I dropped my limp arm at my side and sighed heavily. I was ready to give up.

I let out a loud, frustrated huff when I heard the sound of my heel snap. "Damn it!" I accidentally stepped in a freaking sewer drain.

Stepping out of my heels, I picked them up and decided to carry them. Aggravated, wet, and tired, I attempted to wave down other taxi cab as it drove past.

The taxi cab didn't stop as it zoomed past, splashing me with water in the process. I gasped in disbelief, because I didn't think this night could have gotten any worse.

Reaching the end of the sidewalk, I waited until it was safe to cross the street.

Apparently, God was punishing me because as soon as I stepped out on to the road, lights were blinding my vision and the sound of a car screeching to a halt rang loud in my ears.

"You almost hit me! Watch where the fuck you're going testa di cazzo(dickhead)!" I shouted out angrily, slamming my hands down on the hood of a black Cadillac Escalade.

There were two men in the vehicle, both very handsome. But only one caught my attention. Eyes the color of amber stare back at me, a bored expression on his handsome, chiseled face.

He had his cheek resting on a propped up fist, waves of curly dark hair slicked back with gel. Two stray strands spilled onto his forehead as he dipped his head, his beautiful eyes still trained on me.

I flipped him off out of anger at almost being ran over. He responds the exact opposite of what I thought he would, his lips curling up into a grin underneath the dark stubble blanketing his mouth and chin.

Rolling my eyes, I turn to continue crossing the street. When I reach the other side, I start down the sidewalk.

I glance back to see that the truck has made a left turn and is now slowly tailing behind me.

"What the hell do you want!?" I shout over the rain as the truck pulls up beside me, the driver with dark hair and eyes rolling down the window.

The handsome stranger in the passenger's seat is the one to speak, his voice husky and Italian.