LIORA

I take a slow, thoughtful sip of the smooth drink, feeling it gently touch my taste buds. I don't mind the warm feeling in my chest, even though I've already had several glasses and want another one.

The bar is crowded, with jazz music in the background, and people laughing at nearby tables. New York is always bustling, but I've found a quiet spot.

My work is tiring; leading the marketing team is no joke. I can't even remember my last vacation.

My fingers trace the ring I am wearing. This is not my favorite ring but a special one that I only wear on rare occasions.

"I'm sorry it took so long. There was a huge line for the restroom," my best friend's voice breaks my thoughts.

Zoey Steele, my best friend from school, a vibrant presence who adds warmth and color to my life. She's like a sister, knowing me like no other. She's taller than me by a few inches, with medium-length blonde wavy hair. She comes from a rich background but she works as a Manager in the Windsors Hotels. She wanted to prove to her father that she was an independent woman and she didn't need his help, and I'm incredibly proud of her.

I notice her smudged lipstick and her messy hair and can't resist teasing her.

"Sure, Zoey," I playfully point to her lips. She widens her eyes and wipes her lips with the back of her hand.

"How much have you had to drink? You look like you're about to be sick, Liora," she asks, sounding concerned.

"I'm fine, Zoe," I slur.

She isn't convinced, and with a sigh, she calls the waiter and pays the bill. It's time to go home.

I try to stand up, but the room spins, and I feel unusually heavy. Damn, I am thoroughly drunk. Zoe, with patience and care, helps me up and guides me to her car.

As we reach the parking lot, I catch sight of a stunning black Porsche 911. It's a dream car, one I've always coveted.

I pull away from Zoe, stumbling towards the car, and declare, "Zoe, I want to ride this car, please!" She urges me to get back to her car, but I resist.

"I'll only go if I can ride this one," I whine.

Zoe walks towards me, shaking her head, muttering something about how I'm going to get her into trouble. "Come on, let's go home. Enough of your nonsense today." She grabs my hand and tries to drag me to her car.

I resist and start pulling back towards the Porsche, yelling, "No! I want to ride this one!"

"Please don't act like a toddler. I'm really tired. Let's just go home," she pleads, looking exhausted.

I pout and sigh, eventually agreeing with a lingering look at the Porsche. "Fine," I grumble.

A wave of queasiness hits me as we head back to Zoe's car. The tugging and pulling make my throat tighten, and I can taste the acrid bitterness rising from the pit of my stomach. I clutch my stomach, trying to keep everything down.

Suddenly, a deep male voice booms from the parking lot, "What are you two doing near my car?"

My body revolts, and my stomach empties itself onto the beautiful car.

I hear the voice again, exclaiming, "What the heck?"

I am trying to keep my eyes open, and my body feels so heavy. I clean my lips with the back of my hand. I just want to lay down somewhere.

I glance at the car, which is smelling disgustingly.

"No No Nooooo!!" I look at the disgusting mess I created. The beautiful car is now covered with my vomit. I start crying. The car looked so good just a minute ago. How can I vomit on my favorite car?

"Jesus! You have to go and vomit on the car only?!" Zoe yells and holds me, trying to keep me stable.

"Who are you guys?" I turn toward the voice, my vision still blurry. I rub my eyes, trying to stay awake.

I notice his emerald green eyes glaring from beneath dark brows, his sharp jawline, and curly brown hair. Fuck he looks beautiful. He is wearing a suit and pants maybe he just came from a business meeting. He looks like a fucking Greek God.

"You damaged my fucking car!" he hisses. I look at his lips. I want to taste them so badly.

"We are so sorry. She is drunk and she didn't mean to do that. We will pay for the cleaning," Zoe apologizes. Now, I feel bad. She shouldn't apologize when I was the one who did the damage.

I turn to the stranger to apologize for my actions before I hear his beautiful voice.

"Then you should have taken care of your friend properly if she is so drunk." Fuck apology and his beautiful voice!

I pull away from Zoe's grasp and stumble towards him, standing very close. I can smell peppermint and leather scent on him. I take a deep breath, wanting to savor the scent. His green eyes stare intensely and I am lost for a moment but quickly snap out of it.

"Don't be rude to my friend. I was the one... If you have anything to say, say it to my face," I slur, pointing at him.

"If you can't handle yourself, you shouldn't drink in public places," he replies bluntly.

"You're not my daddd. Don't tell me what to do," I retort. My head is still aching, and I just want to go home. God, help me with this man.

"You smell of vomit," he says, looking disgusted.

"Excuse me?" he ignores me, taking a small white bottle from his pocket and spraying it around me. The overpowering peppermint scent makes my stomach churn. I like the smell, especially coming from him, but the spray is too strong.

I clamp my hand over my mouth, trying to hold back what remains. I can feel his eyes widen like he knows what's coming, but before he can move away, my stomach revolts, ruining his expensive suit and shoes. As the nausea finally subsides, a profound weakness overcomes me. A wave of dizziness washes over me, I can see his shocked expression through my blurry eyes. My legs give out, and I sink to my knees before crumpling to the ground, and my vision fades to black.

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With love,
flwenzi  ♡