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After Lauren wrapped up whatever it was she needed to do around the club, we made our way out to the parking lot. Saying I was impressed with Lauren's car would be an offensive understatement. She drove a matte black Phantom, and even though I expected something much flashier, it was a gorgeous whip.

"How much money do you make?" I joked while admiring the Lamborghini parked in front of us.

Lauren chuckled, swinging the passenger side suicide door open for me. Who says chivalry is dead?

"I do well. I own strip clubs, three very successful restaurants, two moderately successful restaurants, and a café chain. Not to mention a little investing on the side." She explained after hopping into the driver's seat. I suddenly felt a bit intimidated by her. I knew Lauren was smart and successful, but I didn't realize it was to such a high degree.

She revved the engine for a moment, obviously showing off, before speeding out of the parking lot. Lauren drove quickly, occasionally swerving around cars and running stop signs. Even with all of the recklessness, she was a fantastic driver. Once we were off of the main roads and cruising down a side street, she gradually slowed down.

"So, where are we going?" I asked, becoming more and more aware that I wasn't familiar with our surroundings at all. The upper class neighborhood was definitely a step up from the average suburban area that my condo resided in.

"I was thinking we could go to my house," Lauren replied casually, shooting me a look I couldn't quite read. I couldn't see her eyes through her sunglasses, but I was sure they were piercing through me.

I'm not sure why, but something about that didn't sit right with me. Perhaps it was because I swore there was enough sexual tension between us to fill a swimming pool. Lauren became a different person once we left the club. She seemed more flirty, and definitely confident in a way I wasn't accustomed to.

Nothing was going to happen between Lauren and I. I'm not big on infidelity. Knowing how much it hurts to be cheated on, I would never willingly put another person through that pain.

"Camila?" Lauren asked, pulling me out of my tangled thoughts.

I met her eyes, causing her to cock an eyebrow. "What's up?" I hoped that she would disregard the fact that I'd been zoned out for god knows how long.

"Are you okay?" Of course she wasn't going to let it go. "We've been in my driveway for a while now, but you were really wrapped up in something. I didn't want to bother you, but I don't want to spend the rest of my life in here."

I looked away from her, redirecting my attention to the building in front of us. Lauren lived in a very large two story home. It was most likely considered a mansion, beach side, and in the nicest part of Miami. I thought the car was a lot to take in, but it was nothing compared to the house in front of us. Lauren's wealth was intimidating, especially considering my lower class status.

"Does everything you own have a view of the Atlantic?" I asked playfully. Lauren shot me a sly grin before exiting the car. I followed suit, and we swiftly made our way inside.

I made an effort not to seem too overwhelmed, but interior of the house was breathtaking. Everything was very pristine; tile floors, white carpet, luxurious furniture, a large bong sitting in plane sight on the coffee table. Most interesting of all were the pieces of art that lined the walls. I absorbed the paintings, taking a moment to admire each of them.

I noticed a signature in the bottom right hand corner of every piece, signed Lauren Jauregui. Putting two and two together, I realized that Lauren had painted these. My heart fluttered as I continued to look at Lauren's paintings. I didn't peg her as the artistic type, but she was clearly a multi talented individual.

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