His delight in my answer travels directly into his beautiful green eyes as they gleam with triumph.
“ All I need is some of your free time. Can you commit just that much to me?” he persuades with a crooked, sexy smile. Why is he so darn irresistible? How can I possibly pretend I don’t want to spend time with him? How can anyone? I nod my head in response. “How much of this island have you seen besides this beach,” he asks suddenly.
“Not much at all, why do you ask?” I answer him inquisitively.
“I figure you’ve been dedicating most of your time to studying and none to you rself. Am I right?” I nod my head. “Why waste our time getting to know each other over a cup of coffee when we have an entire island to discover together,” he excitedly explains. “If you’re done studying for the day, I’d love to take you zip lining. I hear the view is absolutely breathtaking as you soar above it.”
I’m especially terrified of heights, and he wants me to go zip lining. Is he out of his crazy mind or am I for considering it? But why not, I’ve already broken my rule of no complicated relationships, and besides, I’m too stubborn to let him think I’m a wimp. “Sure, sounds fun,” my voice is quiet and weak. He gathers my books, folds my beach blanket and points me in the direction of his vehicle.
We approach a BMW SUV of some sort. Oh yeah, how did I forget he’s rich? I wonder how expensive this vehicle is if his little gold watch is worth $75,000. I hesitate before crossing over to the passenger side, still wondering what’s gotten into me. “Is something wrong,” he asks. I shake my head, trying not to ruin the moment with my uncalled dislike for his well-to-do background. The door is courteously opened for me, and my belongings are neatly placed in the backseat before he jumps in on his side. What a gentleman, I note. He reaches over to buckle my seatbelt and then his and tells me, “You have no idea what a speed demon I am.” He playfully narrows his eyes at me and then speeds off. The tires spin a white cloud of dust and flying pebbles behind us.
“Should I be nervous?” I half-seriously ask. After all, I know nothing about this man, so why the heck did I agree to get into his SUV? What’s so special about him? I just don’t get it. My left brain is fighting hard to convince me that this is all a big mistake.
“No , not at all,” he answers calmly. I remain focused on the winding road ahead and so does he. His phone rings, cutting through the silence with a male voice that’s amplified through the truck’s sound system.
“Hello, Mr. Bradley, everything is taken care of. I found the perfect villa for your month’s stay on the island. You’ll be able to move in tomorrow, and the rest of your things will be delivered the following day,” the serious, monotonous voice confirms.
“Great job, Owen,” Mr. Bradley replies with satisfaction.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” the voice asks.
“No ,” he replies and disconnects the call.
S urprisingly, I’m ecstatic to hear that we’ll have an entire month to get acquainted as I eavesdrop on their conversation. “Who’s Owen?” I nosily pry.
“He’ s my personal assistant. I work for a sizable corporation, and my list of responsibilities is unreal, so Owen helps me tackle some of the minor ones.”
I’ m starting to realize that Mr. Bradley is no ordinary man who works a nine-to-five job. My stomach feels more squeamish, knowing that he might be wealthier than I initially thought. I’d never fit into his snooty world, nor would I want to. It’s not just the money that bothers me. I especially hate the arrogance associated with it. Many rich people, with a few exceptions, can be extremely cruel with their judgment of underprivileged people. I’ve been a recipient of such cruelty going through middle and high school, so I prefer to quarantine my life from all that shallowness whenever possible. I
“ All I need is some of your free time. Can you commit just that much to me?” he persuades with a crooked, sexy smile. Why is he so darn irresistible? How can I possibly pretend I don’t want to spend time with him? How can anyone? I nod my head in response. “How much of this island have you seen besides this beach,” he asks suddenly.
“Not much at all, why do you ask?” I answer him inquisitively.
“I figure you’ve been dedicating most of your time to studying and none to you rself. Am I right?” I nod my head. “Why waste our time getting to know each other over a cup of coffee when we have an entire island to discover together,” he excitedly explains. “If you’re done studying for the day, I’d love to take you zip lining. I hear the view is absolutely breathtaking as you soar above it.”
I’m especially terrified of heights, and he wants me to go zip lining. Is he out of his crazy mind or am I for considering it? But why not, I’ve already broken my rule of no complicated relationships, and besides, I’m too stubborn to let him think I’m a wimp. “Sure, sounds fun,” my voice is quiet and weak. He gathers my books, folds my beach blanket and points me in the direction of his vehicle.
We approach a BMW SUV of some sort. Oh yeah, how did I forget he’s rich? I wonder how expensive this vehicle is if his little gold watch is worth $75,000. I hesitate before crossing over to the passenger side, still wondering what’s gotten into me. “Is something wrong,” he asks. I shake my head, trying not to ruin the moment with my uncalled dislike for his well-to-do background. The door is courteously opened for me, and my belongings are neatly placed in the backseat before he jumps in on his side. What a gentleman, I note. He reaches over to buckle my seatbelt and then his and tells me, “You have no idea what a speed demon I am.” He playfully narrows his eyes at me and then speeds off. The tires spin a white cloud of dust and flying pebbles behind us.
“Should I be nervous?” I half-seriously ask. After all, I know nothing about this man, so why the heck did I agree to get into his SUV? What’s so special about him? I just don’t get it. My left brain is fighting hard to convince me that this is all a big mistake.
“No , not at all,” he answers calmly. I remain focused on the winding road ahead and so does he. His phone rings, cutting through the silence with a male voice that’s amplified through the truck’s sound system.
“Hello, Mr. Bradley, everything is taken care of. I found the perfect villa for your month’s stay on the island. You’ll be able to move in tomorrow, and the rest of your things will be delivered the following day,” the serious, monotonous voice confirms.
“Great job, Owen,” Mr. Bradley replies with satisfaction.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” the voice asks.
“No ,” he replies and disconnects the call.
S urprisingly, I’m ecstatic to hear that we’ll have an entire month to get acquainted as I eavesdrop on their conversation. “Who’s Owen?” I nosily pry.
“He’ s my personal assistant. I work for a sizable corporation, and my list of responsibilities is unreal, so Owen helps me tackle some of the minor ones.”
I’ m starting to realize that Mr. Bradley is no ordinary man who works a nine-to-five job. My stomach feels more squeamish, knowing that he might be wealthier than I initially thought. I’d never fit into his snooty world, nor would I want to. It’s not just the money that bothers me. I especially hate the arrogance associated with it. Many rich people, with a few exceptions, can be extremely cruel with their judgment of underprivileged people. I’ve been a recipient of such cruelty going through middle and high school, so I prefer to quarantine my life from all that shallowness whenever possible. I
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