by Mia Kayla
The new-car smell filled my nose as I plopped myself down on the black leather seat of his fancy ride. He sat down, all alpha-male like, and placed one hand on the wheel. I noticed his pale yellow polo shirt had a small Burberry logo on his chest, the Burberry pattern peeking out slightly from underneath his collar.
For a brief moment, I felt like an actress in a movie as I sat there in my suit next to a model-looking male in an expensive automobile. In this movie, we were on our first date, heading out for a long drive down the Pacific Coast Highway. I couldn’t help but smile at my own imagination.
“Ready to go?” he asked, flashing a dimple on his cheek.
If this were a date, I would reach for his hand and hold it while he drove off, but obviously, it wasn’t.
“Yeah. Thanks for driving.”
I looked at his dark brown locks above his handsome face. There wasn’t a strand out of place. It really wasn’t fair.
“Let’s grab breakfast in an hour.”
He smiled lightly at me, and I naturally smiled back.
My mind wandered, and I was vaguely curious why he’d really invited me on this trip. Maybe he was interested in me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Although he was obscenely good-looking, lazy and spoiled were definitely not my type.
We were stopped at a red light when he turned and looked directly into my eyes. He was so close that I could smell mint on his lips. I stared, motionless, as I was mesmerized by his long lashes that women everywhere would die for. When he leaned in even closer, I held my breath at his proximity.
“Listen,” he said, lowering his head toward me, “you’re not my type.”
I didn’t know what I looked like at that moment, but I knew how I felt. As heat rose to my ears, I wanted to crawl into a dark hole and hide. It was like that moment when you were walking down the street, staring at a handsome man who had waved at you, and you waved back because you thought he had been checking you out, but really, he’d been waving at the attractive girl behind you. Well, that was how I felt—but worse. I could have walked away from that guy on the street, but this guy was driving me to his father’s company about three hours away. So, not only was I unable to walk away from this situation, I was going to have to sit here and feel mortified for the next few hours.
Oh. My. Word.
I composed myself and mustered all I had inside. “You’re not my type either. You’re just my driver.” It was the truth. I faced forward as humiliation seeped further into my skin. “Go. It’s a green light,” I said as the stoplight changed.
I cleared my throat and sat straighter on my seat. “Mr. Plack, this is not a date. You invited me to visit your facility. I’m here strictly on business—to find out more about your operations and to report your needs back to the bank,” I said, trying to sound professional.
“Miss Casse, my facility?”
He suppressed his laughter, and in return, I turned beet red—again. At that moment, I hated him. I hated his pretty face, his stupid fancy car, and his ability to embarrass me so easily. Most of all, I hated that I had to sit in this car with him for the next three hours.
“Sorry, but the only facility I have is attached. As for my needs, the bank doesn’t have to know them. I have to remind you that we are going to my father’s company, not mine.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. “What’s your reason for inviting me to your father’s company again? You’re obviously not interested in it,” I snapped.
He lifted one eyebrow quizzically, and I stared at him again. I always wondered how someone could pull one eyebrow up while refraining the other one from coming up as well.
“Honestly, I was bored, and I thought, you know…maybe I’d get lucky.” He shrugged and faced the road. A small dimple emerged on his cheek as if his honesty shouldn’t affect me.
I couldn’t prevent my mouth from falling. The nerve of this guy! I’d never, ever met a male of this breed before, and I could feel myself getting warmer and warmer from irritation. I squeezed my hands together on my lap, resisting the urge to flip off this infuriating man in front of me. I bit my tongue before I said something I would regret and faced forward.
He shifted toward me as one side of his mouth lifted. “What?” he smirked.
And then, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I can’t believe you just said that. Who says those things? You can’t say stuff like that! You can think them, but you can’t say those things out loud. I mean, who does that?” I said, fisting my hands on my lap. “What type of girl gives it up that easily?”
“You’d be surprised,” he said. “You asked, and I answered. I was just being honest.”
I glared at him, stunned that he had the audacity to be so blunt. “There’s such a thing called tact. Ever heard of it?” I had the sudden urge to punch something, and normally, I didn’t have a violent tendency in my body.
“Listen, you’re a pretty girl, but you’re not my type. I didn’t mean to invite you to Bowlesville. I just mentioned it. I never thought my father would insist on me going. I want nothing to do with his business. Like I said, I was just bored.”
He was way out of line, and I wanted to turn around and go back to the office. I should have demanded that he take me back, but then I wouldn’t have anything to report to Jim or my manager. I needed this job. I’d wanted this job, and I’d worked hard as hell to get it. For the sake of having something to report to the team, I decided I could bite my tongue and suffer through his presence for one day. It’s just one day.
“Good to know we are on the same page,” I said.
I faced the road in front of me as I promised myself I would ignore him the rest of the way. In the silence, Kent turned on the radio. I peered out the window as we hit the outskirts of the city while I realized that this was going to be a very trying day.
“We’re here. Let’s have breakfast.”
I felt Kent nudge me, and when I opened my eyes, his annoyingly perfect face was in my view. I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep. I touched my shoulder, glad that I didn’t have the regular drool pool next to me. I yawned, stretched my arms toward the sky, and released a sound as if a wolf were slowly dying. Kent studied me. Amusement appeared on his face, but I didn’t care.
As I wobbled out of the car, I took in my surroundings. The sign read Benny’s Diner. We were still two hours away from the plant, but I already felt at home. We were definitely in hick town, and the only reason I knew this was because I’d come from hick town. The Bentley proved to be the fanciest car in the lot, surrounded by worn-down pickup trucks and rusted vans.
Kent held the restaurant door open. “After you.”
I stepped inside. A redhead named Dilly greeted us and sat us at a booth. I surveyed the people around us. Two busy servers were hustling through the quaint, bare-walled restaurant. The aroma of greasy bacon filled my nose, and my stomach growled in response.
“The grits and pancakes are good here. That’s why I like this place. I remember coming here when I was younger,” Kent said, staring at me expectedly.
I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to say. Still offended by our earlier conversation, I remained silent and flipped through the menu.
“Okay, I know we got off to a bad start. I don’t know much about the company, but I know that the operations manager is around today, so he can answer all your questions.”
I regarded him for a few seconds and shrugged. “I’ve decided I’m not talking to you. I feel a headache coming on and I’m pretty sure it’s triggered every time you open your mouth.” Looking at the menu in front of me, I concentrated on what I was going to order.
A low laugh left his lips. “You’re very entertaining when you’re upset,” he said.
I could feel the calmness that had lingered from my nap slowly disappear. The fact that he found me comical started to get under my skin. I decided to turn the rudeness up a notch. “Listen, buddy, you’re not going to get lucky today with this chick, so quit pretending
to be nice because I know you’re not the kind and considerate type.” I rolled my eyes at him and dropped my head back into the menu. With my fingers, I rubbed at my temple trying to ward off the oncoming headache.
After a beat, he said, “Don’t worry. Like I said, you’re not my type.”
I shot him a look, and the side of his mouth lifted.
“I call a truce. Sorry for being honest.”
“I just met you. I don’t care who you are, what you do, or what your type is,” I said, leaning in and trying to keep my tone down. “You want honesty? You’re self-centered and arrogant. You assume any breathing being with tits wants to sleep with you when in reality, they don’t. Guys who look like you are always so pigheaded, and that proves to me that you can judge a book by its cover.”
Kent’s laughter rolled throughout the restaurant. I scanned the room and noticed everyone’s eyes had turned to our table.
Picking up my glass, I pretended to drink water. “I don’t know what’s so funny. Keep it down.” I looked to my menu as my ears warmed, embarrassed by the attention he was causing.
“Beth, I knew this trip would be very interesting. I love your candor.”
This guy definitely had a screw loose, and I was now worried about my safety. I still had to sit in the car with this guy for a couple of hours, and then I would have to do it again on our way back.
The waitress broke the moment by taking our order, and my silence continued. He was still observing me, and he laughed when I shot him a mean-girl look.
“So, Beth, what’s your deal?” Kent asked as the waitress came back and placed our food in front of us.
The aroma of eggs, bacon and pancakes made my mouth water. “My deal? I have no deal,” I said, pulling my eyebrows together. I picked up my fork and jammed a piece of egg into my mouth.
“No, tell me what you’re about.”
“We’re not friends, so I’m not sharing my life story with you. Plus, I’m pretty sure I don’t even like you,” I snapped.
He laughed, but I ignored him as I chowed down on a big piece of pancake. When the maple syrup touched my lips, I sighed inwardly. The syrupy liquid coated my tongue and slid down my throat, the tastiness satisfying the hunger pangs in my belly.
“Delicious, right?” he asked, raising an eyebrow with a slight smile.
“Maybe,” I said, my mouth still full of food. I scrunched my face, still trying to stay mad, even though the meal was beginning to lighten my mood.
“You know,” he said, “you really shouldn’t talk with your mouth full.”
I opened my mouth wide to show him the eggs mixed with bacon and pancakes. I didn’t care that I was acting juvenile. It wasn’t like I was trying to impress him. He made a face, feigning disgust, and a small laugh escaped his lips.
“So, back to my question, tell me about yourself, Bethany Casse. Tell me the stuff that I can’t find on paper.”
“I don’t have any secrets.” I chomped on a piece of bacon.
“Come on, tell me. The good girls always have secrets.”
When he smiled, I purposely distorted my face even more. My rudeness wasn’t bothering him. If anything, he was more entertained at my annoyance, so I decided to turn the table on him.
“What’s your deal?” I asked, pointing my knife in his direction. “Tell me your deal,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.
“I thought my deal was pretty obvious. My deal is, I do what I want to, whenever I want to, and with whomever I want to. I, Miss Bethany Casse, have a very good deal.”
“Must be nice,” I blurted.
“Yes, it is,” he said, leaning back against the booth.
“Rich people work, too. Ever heard of Bill Gates? I mean, your dad works hard to sustain his company. Don’t you have ambitions? What do you want to do when you grow up?” I couldn’t help but be curious about the entitled male in front of me.
“I want to do what I’m doing now—absolutely nothing and everything. I’m one of the very few people who can say I have the luxury of doing that. I’m not trying to be conceited, but it’s just the truth.”
He took a sip of water. “I have an allowance from my trust fund, so I will never have to work. And at the age of twenty-five, I will be entitled to the whole trust. Anyone with this option would do the same. Wouldn’t you?”
“No. I wouldn’t. I’d choose normalcy. I’d choose being productive and contributing to society by going to work,” I said, making a face.
Both of his dimples emerged. “Did you just stick your tongue out at me?”
“No,” I lied, pretending that it just hadn’t happened. “So, what makes you happy? Don’t you want more from life?”
I wanted to kill the curious cat, but the more he spoke, the more I wanted to know. His answers had annoyed me, but even more than that, my uncontrollable inquisitiveness irritated me.
“What makes me content is the here and now. I’m content with sitting here with you and eating this pancake because I want to. If I weren’t, I’d get up and leave. I rarely have to do what I don’t want to do. If I get bored, I plan a vacation…or go to Bowlesville,” he said with a smirk.
“I’m sorry, but what about company succession? Is there an uncle or someone else?”
I thought of Jack Plack, a father who had worked so hard to grow and sustain a company that had been passed down from his father. He’d seemed excited that his son was visiting the plant today, and I couldn’t help but sympathize with him and his hope for the future of his company.
“No, it’s only me. My father was the only son, and so am I.”
“What if he forces you into taking over the company? I can’t imagine he would want someone else to run it. It’s been in your family for generations.”
He glanced at the glass of water he was holding as his eyebrows pulled in slightly. “I hate to give him false hope by coming here, but I’ve been honest with him.” His voice was quiet, melancholy.
For a short second, I sensed sadness in his tone, but then it was gone.
“He’s tried to force me into it, and he has tried to cut me off before. That lasted all but two days. My mother wouldn’t have it,” he said. “That is one woman I would do anything for. To her, I can do no wrong.”
I pictured his plastic stay-at-home mother, who had given her little boy every little thing he wanted whenever he wanted. Just as my upbringing had shaped me, his upbringing had most likely shaped him into his spoiled self today.
The check came and Kent reached for it before I could pick it up.
“Here, let me get that. This is a business expense,” I said, snatching the check from his hands.
I drew my wallet from my purse and grabbed the only credit card I had—the Financial State corporate card. For me, cash was king. I always paid cash, and I despised credit cards, but this time, it was a justified expense.
White freightliner trucks covered with Plack Industries surrounded the plant as we pulled in. The massive factory split into two portions. Grayish-white siding spanned the exterior of the manufacturing facility toward the rear of the building while red brick covered the office area in the front.
As we were seated in the reception area, an older man wearing a white coat with the Plack Industries logo approached to greet us. “Hey, Kent,” he said, as his eyes lit up. “It’s so great to see you. I haven’t seen you since you were twelve.”
The older male proceeded to lean in for a hug, but Kent stepped back and confidently shook his hand.
I introduced myself immediately, “Hi, I’m Bethany Casse from Financial State.”
The corner of his eyes wrinkled as he shook my hand firmly. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jared, head of operations. Let’s take a tour of our facility. Shall we?”
“That would be great,” I replied, ready to ask questions about the expansion.
He led us through the building to where the offices ended and the manufacturing plant began. Kent trailed behind me.
The factory tour lasted no mo
re than forty-five minutes. During the tour, my eyes had flickered behind me toward Kent. I’d caught interest in his eyes as Jared talked of the day-to-day operations, but as soon as Kent had noticed me staring, I swore, he’d feigned boredom.
Before I knew it, we were already walking out of the factory.
As we left the building, my phone rang while we proceeded toward the car. My heart picked up speed as I saw Pete Carlson’s name come up before I answered the call.
“Beth, you’re late again,” he said.
I forgot. Crap.
I looked toward Kent. “Hey, just one minute. I need to take this.”
When Kent stepped into the car, I placed the phone back on my ear and leaned against the car door. “Hey, Pete. How are you?” I pulled at the strands of dark brown hair over my shoulder with my free hand to try to calm myself.
“Beth, I can’t make any more excuses for you. I have to run a business here.”
“I know. I’m so sorry. I had to move, and then I started a new job. It totally slipped my mind. Can I find out from Kendy when she’s off next, and I’ll have her drop off the money?” I said, talking faster than normal.
“No, Beth, I can’t cut you any more slack. Either come in and pay the interest today, or I’m selling your stuff. Like I said, I gotta run a business here. I have bills to pay, too.”
I fisted the top of my hair to try to steady myself. “I’ll have the money for you. Promise me, you won’t sell her stuff.” I glanced toward Kent sitting in the car and gave him a nervous smile.
“Today, Beth. You have till the end of the day.”
My heart started to pound in my ears, and the beginning of a full-on panic attack was about to overtake my body. I felt the hot sweats creeping up my neck. There was no other option. I had to make it to Pete’s today. I needed to take action.
Think, think, think.
Okay, Beth, be nice.
I stepped into the car and turned toward Kent. “I’m starving. Do you want to try this great burrito place? They’re famous for their guacamole.”