At 8:30 PM sharp I was standing out in front of the hotel, waiting. ‘To be on time is to be late. Be early,’ my dad always said. I clutched my Blackberry in one hand and my small purse in the other, enjoying the warm night air. LA wasn’t much different than Atlanta. It was just knowing I was there, that excited me. I reveled in the fact that I could bump into someone ‘connected’ at any time. It wasn’t like I couldn’t do the same thing in Atlanta... it was just... this was LA!

I heard the rumble of an engine from down the street and knew instinctively that it was him. A jet black, shiny, two door Mercedes AMG stopped in front of me and the window slid down silently. “Good to see you can tell time,” he said, when I bent down to peer inside the window.

“It’s 8:35. You’re late.” I reached for the handle of the car and it popped open easily. I slipped into the perfectly formed cool leather seat and shut the door. The window slid back up as quietly as it slid down.

“Seatbelt,” he said, looking over at me.

“Yes, sir,” I smirked, snapping the belt in place, then glancing over in his direction. The light from the hotel entrance lit up the car slightly. I could see his blue eyes twinkling, a slight smile on his lips, and his casual, laid back posture in the driver’s seat. He smelled incredible, freshly shaven, the scent of his aftershave mixing with his cologne, filling the car with a heady fragrance. Not overpowering. Deliciously mouthwatering, actually. He wore dark, pressed jeans, cuffed at the ankles, boots and a long sleeved zippered jacket over a black t-shirt. My heart skipped a beat as I swallowed and tore my eyes away from him. I was really, really sitting in this car, with him. It was going to be a great night.

He pulled away from the hotel and maneuvered out into the street, tapping a finger on the steering wheel to the music playing over the stereo.

“Who is this?” I asked, over the music. He turned it down, slightly and glanced over at me, eyebrows raised. “I said, who is this? Playing?”

“Oh. The Donnas. It’s an old one. Good, though. You know them?”

“No, you listen to some weird shit,” I answered, laughing.

“It’s not weird,” he said, chuckling. “Just different. I just like different sounds. Give it a chance, you might like it.”

“Oh, alright. Just for you.” I rolled my eyes and took in the view. “Where are we going?”

“You’re full of questions. Relax. Listen. Watch.” He reached over and patted my hand on the arm rest.

“Excuse me, but I am in a car with a strange man in a strange city going to a place I’ve never been. I can ask questions.”

“I don’t have to answer them, though,” he said, grinning over at me. “Relax. You’re safe, with me. I just want to show you a good time, in a safe environment. I didn’t want you like, hanging around with weird people in weird places. I’m just funny, like that.”

“You’re serious? You worried about me ending up in some weird place?”

“Well, yeah. You ask anyone ‘where’s a good place to hang out’ there’s no telling where they’ll send you. You know? I just... I don’t know. Scary to think about.”

“So you just meet women on airplanes and offer to show them a good time?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No, I don’t. I’m serious,” he said, glancing over at me, then back at the road, then back at me. “I’m serious. I don’t. I just—nevermind.”

“Okay, okay, I’m just teasing. Wow.” I leaned my head back onto the headrest and enjoyed the ride.

“Crafty woman. So I hope you like Chinese food.”

“It’s fine, I don’t care. As long as it’s edible.”

The car rolled down the street a few minutes longer, then he changed lanes and pulled up to a brightly lit restaurant, the fluorescent bulbs flashing obscenely into the night. After a few minutes in the valet line, we stepped out and he handed his keys over to a young attendant in a red vest and a crew cut. “Enjoy your meal,” he said, and stepped into the car.

“Easy on the engine, man,” JC said, before the attendant pulled away from the curb. JC watched him drive down the street to the special lot where they parked the valet cars. “I swear sometimes they just wait for me to go in and gun it. Maintenance is expensive enough.” He looked down at me and smiled, his teeth megawatt bright. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” I answered as he opened the door. “I haven’t eaten since you stole all my crackers on the plane. I could pass out at any second.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll catch you. Food is good here, and it’s nice and homey.” He stepped to the hostess stand and said quietly, “two, please, in a booth if you have one, in the back, if you have one.” The hostess nodded and checked the chart, plucked two menus from the stack and smiled, turning to walk down the hall. The lights were low, the design classy in stark black and white. She turned a corner and stopped at a cozy little booth, away from most of the restaurant.

“Is this okay?” she asked, in a very cute little voice.

“It’s great, thank you,” he said, sliding into one side. I sat across from him and opened the menu. My mouth was already watering from the delicious smells coming from the kitchen. My stomach reminded me that it was empty, and loudly so. I blushed and hoped he hadn’t heard it. If he did, he didn’t mention it.

“So, what’s good, here?”

“Everything,” he said, a little too excited about Chinese food. “If you like Chinese, I mean like Chinese a lot, just get the special. It’s always good. If you’re picky, anything with chicken is always good.”

I opened the menu and scanned it for anything that looked good. I was in the mood for some Garlic Chicken or something and found a dish that fit the bill. He was just in my line of vision, and I pretended to still read the menu while I watched him stare at the menu, scratch his chin and turn the page, then rub his cheek and then run his fingers over his lips absentmindedly. It was eerie seeing him up close, watching those hands, those eyes, that hair—I could practically count the hairs on his arms, he was so close to me.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked, without looking up. My eyes slammed shut and I dipped my head toward the table, laughing.

“You’re not the only one who can see out of the corner of her eye. Do you know what you want?” He closed his menu and slid it to the edge of the table. I did the same, nodding and blushing a hot, steaming crimson. The hostess brought us glasses of water and took our order. As soon as she walked away, I sucked down half of my glass.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I won’t stare. That probably weirds you out, huh?”

“Sort of,” he answered with a shy grin. “I’m alright. I just wanted to embarrass you.” He sipped his water, licked his lips. I swore was going to stop watching him. I had a feeling that he would drop me off at the hotel early if I didn’t stop acting this way. I steeled myself and took a deep breath.

“So what do you like to do down there in Atlanta? Like if you were at home tonight, what would you be doing?”

I let out a short, bitter laugh. “If I was at home, it’s a good chance I’d be working. Or in my comfies watching something on TV.”

“What? You’re young, you’re—single, right?” He lifted an eyebrow. I nodded, sipping my water. “Living in one of the hippest cities in the southeast. You and your friends don’t get together on the weekends and hit the town?”

“Every once in awhile,” I answered, mindlessly wiping the condensation from the glass off of the table. “The older I get, and the deeper I get into being an adult and having a job and responsibilities... by the time Friday rolls around, I’m just done. I feel like I’ve been beat with a stick and I just want to relax. Take a shower, get comfortable, watch a movie, fall asleep early. Isn’t that sad?”

He laughed. “No. It amazes me how much I’m like... everyone else,” he said, extending his hand in a flourish. “Except it was Sunday. We got Sundays off. And by the time Sunday rolled around, all I wanted to do was sleep. If we got a break, forget it. The first thing I’m doing is relaxing, man.” He laughed. “So yeah, I get it. No, it’s not sad. The clubs and the parties will always be there. You’re not missing a thing.”

Our meals arrived as he finished talking, and my eyes grew huge as the sizzling plate with the delicious aroma was set in front of me. We talked and ate, laughing at the random people that walked past the window, making up stories about them.

“See, that guy right there,” JC said, nodding toward a austere man with a terse grumpy expression on his face. “He has to pee. But wants to wait till he gets home. Cause he hates public restrooms. You know, ever since ‘the accident’.” He used the air quotes and laughed.

“Oh, there’s always an ‘accident’,” I said, laughing hysterically. “Okay, stop. I can’t breathe. I’m so full.”

“Well, let’s go top off with some alcohol, shall we?” He paid the check and gave the valet his ticket, standing just inside the door and waiting on the car to come around.

“Was it good?”

“Delicious. Really good, thank you,” I said, distracted by the various hangings on the wall. There were older pictures of Los Angeles, the old black and white and sepia photos of horses and carriages and men in suits and women in long, flowing dresses and parasols. Those were always my favorite to look at, no matter where I was.

“Ready?” A soft, warm hand gently grabbed my elbow, pulling me toward the door. “Car’s here, let’s go. You can see these online, I’ll show you.”

I tore myself away from the photos and walked out of restaurant, stepping right into the car. The valet closed my door and I snapped my seatbelt into place.

“Good girl,” he said, snapping his own, and pulling away from the restaurant.

“Now where are we going?” I asked.

“Have you learned nothing? You were annoying as a child, weren’t you?”

“Maybe,” I giggled.

He drove and drove and finally turned into the circular drive of a hotel and again handed the keys over to a valet. “Some friends are having a little shindig here tonight, thought we’d stop by and have a drink, on them,” he said, swinging the door open and walking in behind me. He veered to the left and we headed toward the swankiest lounge I’ve ever seen in my life.

The perimeter of the room was lined with expensive looking couches and settees, the bar was a glossy, high shine maple, the bar stools pure soft leather with brass hardware, off of which the chandeliers gleamed. Light music played in the background and the room was about half full of very beautiful people. If he was trying to impress me, it was working.

“What do you want to drink?” He pointed toward the bar.

“Uh, I’ll start with a Corona. Work my way up.”

He nodded his head toward some open spaces on the couches at the end of the room. “Plant yourself on one of those couches, by the window. I’ll come find you.”

I glared at him, but did as I was told, kneeling on the couch and taking in the sight of the LA skyline, tiny blinking flashing lights. I wondered if it was like that all the time.

“Nice view, huh?” A strange voice whispered in my ear, entirely too close for comfort. I jumped and moved over a few cushions, staring at the man who sat next to me. He was tall, dark, and handsome, in a long sleeved shirt and pressed slacks, a close haircut and the faintest hint of five o clock shadow--but a stranger, who came too close and was too familiar with a woman he didn’t know. He looked me up and down, licked his lips and scooted closer. “What’s wrong, lil mama? Just trying to talk to you...”

I got up from the couch, determined to find a different seat, and walked straight into JC. “Hey,” he said, holding two bottles, handing me one. “Where you going? What’s wrong? You don’t look... what’s wrong?” He stared down at me, his forehead creased, his mouth drawn in a tight frown.

“Nothing,” I said. “I just... there was a guy hitting on me and he scared me. I’m fine, I’m fine. Let’s sit.” I turned around and my suitor was still sitting in the same spot, shaking his head and smiling off to the side.

“Don’t tell me it was this guy,” JC said, slapping him on the arm and dropping heavily next to him. I stared at them both. “This is Marcus, my buddy. Marcus, this is Serena. She’s visiting from Atlanta.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were here with JC,” he said, bashful. “Nice to meet you, miss.” He extended a hand and, cautiously, I gave his hand a firm shake. JC patted the cushion next to him and I sat and nursed my beer until it was gone. I wanted another, and JC was occupied in a conversation, so I ambled up to the bar and ordered my own drink, then sat at the bar and drank it, watching the room. I didn’t recognize any of the people, which was good. I could relax and stare without feeling weird. I had a few more and relaxed a bit more.

“Hey, you disappeared,” said a familiar voice, climbing up onto the stool next to me. His scent tickled my nose, but also made me feel warm inside.

“Hey,” I said, smiling wide, noticing that my voice slurred a little. I couldn’t remember how many of those cute little drinks I had, but I felt really loose and relaxed. And warm.

He cupped my chin, lifting my face to him. I weaved in his grasp and giggled. “Oh no. Are you drunk?”

“Noooooooo,” I drawled. “I’m. I’m kind of loose but not drunk. On my way to drunk, though.” I giggled and smacked his hand. He shook his head.

“Shit, you are... you need some water. Excuse me,” he waved to the bartender. “Could I get a bottle of water, for her? Please.” The bartender set a cold bottle of water in front of me. JC opened the bottle and handed it to me. “Drink. All of it. Here.”

I glared again. “You’re bossy,” I said, but took the bottle and sucked down half of it.

“You’re drunk,” he said. “Drink.”

I finished my water and visited the restroom. I was a little disappointed in how disheveled I looked. ‘Okay, Serena, you’re too relaxed. Pull it back,’ I told myself, smoothing down my hair and adding a fresh coat of lip gloss.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, watching me walk from the restroom. I saw genuine concern in his eyes. The reality of what could have happened hit me square between the eyes and sobered me instantly. I was lucky I was with someone who cared, and who wouldn’t let me get drunk and then take me back to my hotel and take advantage.

“Fine, thanks for rescuing me. I think I’m done drinking for the night.”

“Good, ‘cause I don’t think I can carry you to your room.”

“And I didn’t want you to have to carry me,” I said, winking at him. I asked the bartender for another bottle of water and we settled into a dark corner of the room where we could see almost everyone, but we weren’t the center of attention. I had to sit close to him, to hear him over the people and the music. I didn’t have a problem with that, and he didn’t seem to either. I sat back with my legs crossed. He was next to me, so close our thighs touched, an arm stretched out behind me. He wasn’t flirty but he wasn’t standoffish, either. Comfortable was more like it.

“So, do you know a lot of people, here?”

He glanced around for a few seconds. “You know what, I don’t hardly know anyone here. A couple of people. Most everyone here is a friend of a friend, I guess.”

“Really,” I said, kind of shocked. “So is it like this at every party? Isn’t it boring to go to a party and not know anyone?”

“Pretty much,” he nodded. “And yes. That’s why I stay my ass at home in sweats. Or in the studio. Always something better to do. Gotta relax sometime, though.”

I stifled a yawn and finished off my bottle of water. “I saw that,” he said, nudging me. “You have to be tired. It’s been a long day. You want to go?”

“Not if you’re not ready. I’m okay,” I said, yawning again. “Alright, I guess I’m tired. But if you’re not ready—“

“I can see these people anytime, Serena. Let’s go.”

He stood and offered me a hand to help me up, except he didn’t let it go when I was standing. He led me out of the room, nodding to various people, waving, saying goodbye. Out of the lounge, through the hotel lobby, and to the front door where he handed the attendant his valet ticket, he held my hand. He didn’t let go until the car arrived, and did so only so I could step into the car. I got in and snapped the belt, relaxing against the soft leather.

“Do you mind if we open the window a little bit? I’m kind of hot.” He complied by pressing the button and the window slid down a few inches. “Thanks,” I said, rolling my head toward the view of many, many cars out on the road.

“It’s late, your time. I forgot about that,” he said, patting my hand. “You’re a trooper for still being awake.”

“I was very well entertained, thank you. But now that I know it’s late, I’m exhausted.” I yawned again, loudly. It was rude but it felt so good. “Sorry. I’m supposed to be a dainty young lady in front of you, I guess.”

He laughed, soundlessly. “Be yourself, Serena.”

We rode silently, a slight wind whipping through the car, soft music coming through the speakers, a relaxed air between us. He still smelled incredible, I still felt incredible. Tired, but incredible. I almost didn’t want the night to end, except that I was starting to day dream about falling into that feather soft bed, and rolling over, and pulling the covers up over me, laying my head on that crisp, cool pillow and sinking into a deep, deep sleep. I sighed.

“What?”

“Hm?”

“Something wrong?”

“Oh. Oh, no,” I said with a smile, rolling my head toward him. “I just—I had a great time tonight, with you. And I was just thinking about that, and then about going to bed.”

His head slowly rolled toward me and he blinked.

“Shit,” I said, as I realized what he was reacting to. “Not with you. Just in general.”

“Oh,” he said. “Okay. That’s what I thought. But I wasn’t going to turn you down.”

A giggle escaped my throat before I could stop it. “I’ll keep that in mind. Wow.”

He looked over at me, then at the road, then at me and back to the road. “I’m not—please don’t think I was trying to push you, or I was expecting it, or anything. I’m not like that.”

“I don’t think anything, JC. Relax,” I soothed, patting his leg just above the knee. “You’re safe with me.”

The Sheraton loomed a few blocks ahead and I stretched, trying to wake up enough to make it up to my room. The car smoothly swung into the circular drive and he stopped in front of the front door.

“You’ll be okay? You need me to see you up? I can, if you want.”

“No, nope,” I answered, waiving him off. “I mean it, I had a really, really good time. Thanks for not wanting me to end up someplace weird. Lean over here.” He obeyed and I dropped a soft kiss on his cheek. “You’re very much a gentleman. I appreciate it. Have a good night, drive safely.”

He blinked, and seemed surprised, then smiled. “I will. Thanks for coming out with me. Sleep well.”

I managed to step out of the car, with the door attendant’s help, and made it through the lobby without tripping over myself. I was getting sleepier by the second and by the time I hit my room, washed my face, changed into some comfortable sleepwear and pulled my hair back, I was one blink from passing out. It was 2am in Los Angeles, 5am eastern. I had been awake nearly twenty four hours. It was a wonder I was even still standing.

I pulled the sheets back and sat on the bed, almost sighing at the firm comfort, and reached over to snap off the lamp. My phone lit up and the sound of it vibrating against the wood table startled me.

‘Had a great time with you. Let’s do it again. Lunch/Grand Tour tomorrow. Yes?’

I smiled at the text message and typed back, ‘Sure, anytime after noon,’ and set the phone back onto the table. I’m sure he answered, I just didn’t care. I rolled over and drifted into the most delicious sleep of my life.