Chapter - 3
Slamming the front door shut behind him, Ethan quickly made his way out of the driveway. Though he felt good kissing that soft skin, he didn't stop to gloat over it. All that mattered now was time. He was late, and missing this interview wasn't an option. He did not want to give Richard the pleasure of making fun of him.
He straightened his tie as he strode down the driveway, while his eyes scanned the street for a taxi.
But just as he strode down the driveway, a sleek black sedan parked at the curb next door purred to life. The engine of the car was so quiet that it was more of a vibration than a sound. But instead of driving away, the driver's door of the car opened with a soft click, and a woman emerged.
The woman looked just the absolute epitome of elegance. She was somewhere in her early thirties and wore a tailored navy-blue expensive pant suit. Her chest-nut brown hair was pulled back in a stylish chignon, and not a single strand of her hair was out of place.
As she stood straight, and adjusted her coat, every move of her reeked of confidence.
She was Isabelle Vance.
Isabelle did not approach Ethan as she saw him walk out of his house. She simply leaned against the hood of her car, crossing her arms, and watched him with a knowing, slightly amused look in her eyes.
And she had such a strong presence that Ethan could feel her gaze on him. Following him as he walked towards her.
"Quite the hurried exit there, Ethan," she said, her voice was smooth, with a calming presence to it, "Having trouble in your paradise?"
'Dammit… Not today Miss Isabelle,' Ethan sighed and stopped dead in his tracks. He forced a polite smile on his face and turned towards her, "Mrs. Vance," he greeted formally, his voice hesitant.
This Isabelle was a tough woman to deal with. In front of her, it was as if he always felt as if he was completely naked. Somehow, there was nothing he could hide from her.
She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, "You are not running from the scene of the crime, are you? Or just incredibly eager to join a rat race?" Her eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief.
"I am just late for an interview, Miss Vance" he said, adjusting his tie again, a nervous habit.
Isabelle gave a small, wry smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "Come on, Ethan. It's Isabelle for you."
"And since you are about to run a marathon to an interview," She glanced at a slim, elegant watch on her wrist, then back at him, "Then why don't I give you a ride there?"
"You don't have to… Miss Va… Isabelle," Ethan tried to refuse, "I am going downtown. You don't have to take a…"
But she did not let him complete. She pointed her car key at him and spoke first, "I am heading downtown anyway. I can give you a ride. It will be faster than running yourself into a sweaty mess. You know… It will ruin your first impression, and all that."
Ethan hesitated. Every brain cell of his warned him against the idea of getting into this woman's car. He knew he had to maintain distance from her. She was beautiful, soft-spoken, understanding, caring and intelligent. There were just too many red flags that screamed at him to run away.
"I... I wouldn't want to impose," he said, trying to get out of the situation.
"It's no imposition at all," she replied, her tone leaving no room for argument. "It's an offer. Get in." She slid back into the driver's seat without waiting for his answer.
Defeated, Ethan walked towards the passenger seat and sat in the car.
The door closed with a solid, satisfying thud, and Ethan found himself in a world of quiet luxury. The interior of the sedan smelled of rich leather and a faint, clean perfume that smelled like Isabelle. But despite all the luxury, Ethan felt trapped with a vixen, ready to get attacked.
Soon, the car was on the road and Isabelle drove with an effortless, focused skill, her hands light on the steering wheel. She navigated the morning traffic smoothly. But for several minutes, neither of them spoke.
Ethan stared out the window, watching the familiar suburban houses give way to bigger and taller buildings.
"You know. I have always felt that you are just too quiet for someone whose eyes look like they have seen a lot of things," Isabelle said, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft, as usual, "There is chaos in your eyes."
He turned to look at her and smiled, "What kind of chaos is that?"
"The messy kind," she said, her eyes fixed on the road, "Not the domestic squabbles, heartbreaks. Your eyes feel like they have seen a lot of blood."
"Maybe I was a doctor once," Ethan smiled wryly, shaking his head. He did not know anything about his life.
Isabelle looked at his helpless expression and could sense the real sadness behind his words. She was quite fond of Ethan, she wanted to know more about him, but for now, she decided to hold back her curiosity.
"So Mr Doctor! Where are you interviewing?" she asked, her tone shifting to something more casual, more professional.
"Aura Media," he replied.
When Isabelle heard the name, there was a subtle change in the smile on her face. Ethan did not pay attention to the change, but Isabelle was intrigued.
"Ambitious," It was all Isabelle said.
"Given my situation…" Ethan turned his head to look outside the car again, "That is my only option for now."
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[
Author's Question: What do you think his situation is?
]