Vice

27: Drive

Natara's chest tightens as moments from the night before flood her brain: pulling the young man from the edge of the bridge, arguing with him, walking through town beside him, stepping inside his penthouse, climbing into his soft bed, and cuddling against him.

It's Mr. Vice. It's her boss. "There's no way..." She whispers. 

Jaquie cocks an eyebrow, glancing down at her. "No way, what? He's easy on the eyes - it's his bite you have to worry about."

Her mouth hangs open. There's no way she could explain this to Jaquie - and she'd probably actually be fired if she did - and there's no way she can face THIS man again. She wanted to ignore everything that happened last night. She wanted to forget about it completely and move on with her life. 

The last thing she wanted was for her one night of stupidity to show up in her day to day life. Sure, she hadn't fooled around with him, but she had gotten in his bed - and that was way more than she should be doing with the man who is her boss.

"Get in." Mr. Vice motions toward the sleek black Lamborghini parked in front of him. He pulls his cigarette from his lips and drops it on the sidewalk, crushing it with his shiny black shoes. If he recognizes Natara, he doesn't comment on it.

But Natara knows it's him.

His pale blonde hair is slicked back and his green eyes are just as empty as they looked the night on the bridge. His voice is that same husky, tired tone it was and he stands just as tall as he did when he walked beside her.

Jaquie is right, Mr. Vice is handsome. She thought that last night and maybe even more so today. Last night, he was attractive in a casual, rugged, and edgy way. But today, he still has that edgy look to him, and he's clean cut - with a tailored suit that fits against his body with a gentle snugness. 

Looking at him makes Natara jittery. She chose to join him in bed. The same man who freaked out about the cold coffee and tried to get her fired. The same man who infuriates her every single day. The same man who is somehow so attractive that just looking at him makes Natara shiver.

How unlucky could she possibly be? Of all the men she could have run into last night, it had to be him? One mistake and she has to suffer with it. She wants to bury her face in her hands, but tries to keep her posture straight and her head held high.

If Mr. Vice can pretend they don't know each other, so can Natara. Or, she can pretend at least for long enough to get inside the car. The elephant sitting between them heightens her anxiety with every passing second. 

Mr. Vice slides into the driver's seat and waits for Natara to jump in the passenger side seat. He doesn't make eye contact as she enters and buckles her seat-belt.

His car smells like vanilla and is impeccably clean. Natara imagines someone is probably hired to clean it regularly. Mr. Vice pulls a pair of shades from his styled blonde hair down to cover his eyes and steps on the gas.