Leo
"A real man can use power, rather than let power use him." - Moffat Machingura
Pulling up to the curb, I get out of my new Rolls Royce Cullinan with Matteo following behind me. I have an extra kick in my step this morning and I just know it'll be a good one.
My precious car is matte black with all black wheels and hand stitched red leather interior that I specially imported from Italy. She also has fully tinted windows. The car and the custom job cost me a small fortune that could probably fund a small country for a year, but it was beyond worth it. Looking at her parked one last time, I turn around and head for the entrance.
"I can't believe you got this car. It's not even out yet!" Matteo exclaims.
"Being rich has its perks," I reply, smirking.
"Well, I'm rich too! How come you can get it and I can't?!" Matteo complains.
"You just don't know the right people then." My smirk widens and I turn around to face Matteo, my childhood best friend, while still walking backwards towards the front door.
By now we're in front of a coffee shop, and I push the door open with my back. Just as I turn around, a black blur rushes towards me. But before I have time to react, it crashes into me and a scorching hot liquid rains onto me.
"Ahh! What the Fuck!? That's fucking hot!" As fast as the blur of black arrived, it disappeared.
Confused, I look around and my eyes land onto a short, chipmunk-looking girl. She's wearing tight jeans, a faded graphic T-shirt with some kind of vintage car on it. Her silky dark-brown hair is knotted on top of her head in a messy bun, and if the light hits it just right, you can almost see streaks of gold in it. If she didn't just bathe me in boiling coffee I might consider her smoking hot. Also smoking mad.. she looks so furious that I have an urge to look around and check if she started a fire with her temper anywhere. I'm sure you get the point: she was practically boiling.
"You!" Still glaring, she points an accusing finger up at my face and screeches, "you spilled my coffee!" Why do I get the feeling she might start growling soon? Wait, what did she just say? She's blaming me for her clumsy behavior!?
"You ran into me," I point an accusing finger at her and turn to walk away. Just as I snatch a fistful of napkins to wipe myself down, I feel a small, soft hand wrap around my arm. I look down at the woman now trying to hold me back. She's barely 5 foot 1, I'm guessing, but she must have a death wish going against a stranger like this.
I take a deep breath in an attempt to compose myself and so very slowly turn to face her again. "This is your fault. You weren't watching where you were going," I enunciate slowly. Jerking away, I get out of her hold and furiously storm off towards the restrooms.
"Hey! Where do you think you're going mister!?" She starts after me, almost jogging as her short legs struggle to keep up. "You owe me another coffee! Ugh!" It takes all my self discipline to not roll my eyes.
Fuck it. Stopping abruptly, I spin on my heels and face her again. She comes to a screeching halt and slams into my chest again. She rocks back on her unsteady feet and seems about to stumble. I feel an explosion of tingles in every spot she touches and it frustrates me further. Grabbing her shoulders to steady her, I start, "listen, I wasn't gonna say anything, but now that you mention it, you owe me a new Armani suit. Where do you want me to send the dry cleaning bill?" This time I send an icy glare at her and step forward menacingly till her chest brushes mine again, hoping to intimidate some sense to her.
She's taken aback and stumbles back a step. But a split second later, she covers that weakness up and glares right back. Damn this woman, she has some nerve! Anyone else would have run off by now with their tail tucked between their legs. That thought irritates me even more. Does she not have any self preservation instincts going against a total stranger like this? I ask her just that in the deadliest tone I could muster: "What is wrong with you? Have you ever even heard of stranger danger? You're just going to anger a man at least a foot bigger than you without any care for your own safety?" I'm more frustrated than I ever have been and all because of this chipmunk of a woman? I don't understand why I would even care that she would put herself into a dangerous situation!
"Stranger danger? What, are you going to give me something to be scared of?" She shoots right back. The tension suffocating us is so thick, you could cut it with a knife.
I clench and unclench my fists a few times and force a breath through my nostrils. We're so close I can feel her hot breath fan my face as her chest rises and falls rapidly in anger. We glare daggers at each other and seeth for a few seconds in silence.
I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn around to see Matteo. "Leo, it's not worth it. You guys already made a scene, and we should go. We're gonna be late."
He's right. I have somewhere to be. We both turn around and leave the angry chipmunk behind. Once outside, I take a few calming breaths, but it does nothing to help. I toss the keys to Matteo, bark at him to drive. The asshole has the nerve to be excited about it as I slump down into the passenger seat.
She's lucky I have a backup suit at the office. Who does she even think she is talking to me like that!
With that, Matteo races down the street and soon into the heart of Montecito, Santa Barbara.