The Playboy's Crush By Deborah A. Olaleye

SEVEN

Lara dialed Andrea's number as she walked out of the elevator across the lobby. She tipped her head toward Diana and muttered, "Goodbye, Diana," to her.

"See you tomorrow, Lara." Diana waved at her with a light smile.

Her calls were forwarded to voicemail over the number of times she tried reaching her.

"We had plans for today, Andrea. It isn't right for you to shut me out, as you did at lunch. I understand you are dissatisfied with what happened at lunch, but we can talk it out and resolve our differences amicably. Call me when you get this, alright?" She bit down on her lips, grazing her teeth over them. "I will be expecting your call then." She put the phone away from her ear and disconnected the call.

She twitched her lips, looked around briefly, then continued her walk to the gate.

Her plan to hang out with Andrea later in the evening held so much prospect, and it would have been lovely if it had actually worked out.

The way she had talked about those places of interest they had promised each other to visit together had piqued her interest so much that it hurt briefly to have her hopes dashed.

She shrugged and looked ahead, taking confident strides toward the gates.

She continued her walk to the main road to get a cab quickly, as she wanted nothing more than to have a shower and relax her aching bones.

Years of working laborious jobs to survive still affected her.

She shut her eyes briefly and sucked in her breath harshly through her teeth, wincing as her spine cracked.

She pushed out her chest subtly as she walked to relieve the burning ache in her lower back.

She glanced at her surroundings and walked to the other side with the other pedestrians waiting on the side of the road as the traffic light flashed green.

She extended her arm to flag down a taxi and retreated back a step as an exotic car, a Bugatti Chiron Profilée painted in Argent Antlatique, pulled up in front of her instead.

She tucked her hair behind one side of her ear as the window on the side where she was standing rolled down.

Her brows furrowed.

   Shane.

"Get in. I will give you a ride home."

She shook her head. "Don't bother. I will take a taxi instead."

"I'm going along that way. Hop in," he insisted.

She entered the car reluctantly, unable to decline his offer, should it be termed rudeness. "Thanks," she muttered under her breath as she strapped the seatbelt around her.

The car zoomed into motion.

"You don't seem all too pleased, Lara."

"Of course, I would have felt more comfortable taking my usual transport home to this." She bit her lips as she realized what she had said.

She turned to face him quickly. "I appreciate the gesture, though. It is generous of you. You are a philanthropist after all," she rambled, pressing down on her lips tightly afterward.

Shane laughed. "Sarcastic and guarded as ever, aren't you, Lara? I denote sarcasm in your words."

"I apologize if you've been offended, sir."

"Shane," he cut in.

"Pardon?"

"It's Shane. Casual interaction, remember? First-name basis."