Of course she drives a fucking Tesla.

Manny slid into the passenger side and marveled at the interior. Creamy leather seats, wood paneling, it even had the screen on the console. It smelled nice, like apples, his favorite fruit. Envy soured his stomach, but he tried to keep it off his face, especially since Ms. Sarr was being so nice to him.

He dropped his backpack at his feet. “So, where are we headed?”

“Nowhere, if you don’t put on your seat belt, beloved.” She clicked hers in place and checked the mirrors.

Beloved? Heat crept into his cheeks as he snapped the seatbelt over his body, and he thanked God his skin was dark enough to hide the blush. When he’d taken this job five months ago, he didn’t think it would land him in his dream car with a beautiful woman. Maybe Damon was right. He needed some excitement in his life.

“We’re going to my favorite coffeehouse, Voledaire. ‘Tis a short ride away.” When she started the car, a blast of icy air conditioning slapped him across the face. Apparently, it wasn’t cold enough outside for her.

She pulled away from the curb and into the stop-and-go afternoon traffic. If she was at all bothered by the frigid temperature, it didn’t show. Her expression hid behind her shades, and she tapped her fingers against the wheel as she waited on the stoplight.

Manny shifted in his seat and pulled out his cellphone, searching for the Voledaire place they were supposedly going to. It popped up on Google Maps, just outside of the downtown area. Five minutes away, as she’d said. He checked the Yelp reviews. 4.7 stars. Solid.

Ahead of the car was a long line of traffic. It looked like the five-minute drive would turn into thirty minutes. In the car. The freezing car. Most of the feeling in his face had gone and the tips of his fingers tingled. He clenched his jaw to stop his teeth from chattering.

The console beckoned to him, daring him to turn on the heat, and he stared at it with wide, longing eyes. Would she be mad if he touched her stuff? Surely she had to be freezing too.

“Oh, my apologies,” Ms. Sarr said. She turned on the heat and put the fans on max blast. “I’ve grown too accustomed to the cold.”

Manny stuck his hands in front of the vents, the hot air melting away his pride along with the frost from his fingertips. “Did you live in Siberia or something?”

“No. I lived in a desert far away, a land of extremes. Sweltering heat during the day, numbing cold at night. Not for the faint of heart.” She gave him another of her sickly sweet smiles.

He didn’t know if she was making fun of him or not, but he suddenly felt like a pussy sitting there with his hands in front of the vents. It wouldn’t stop him from defrosting himself, though. “What brought you to America?”

“It’s a big place, easy to get lost in.” She breathed a sigh. “And I needed a change of pace.”

Manny raised a brow. “Some excitement?”

“Exactly so.”

They finally broke away from the claustrophobic downtown traffic and sailed down the 75 to the south side of Pontiac. Moments later, Aurya was pulling up next to a brick building that looked more like a house for people rather than coffee. It sat on a plot of land with its own parking—rare for this part of the city, where buildings were packed alongside the road like crayons.

“Come, this place will start filling up soon,” Ms. Sarr said.

Manny followed her into the coffeehouse, and the scent of freshly ground beans slammed into him. The place had a rustic feel, with exposed brick, wooden furniture, and lights hanging from the rafters. And plants, plants everywhere. Plants in big, squat pots on the floor, plants on the tables, plants hanging from the walls. It was a hipster’s paradise. They grabbed a booth in the back, away from the few other patrons.

“What would you like to drink?” Ms. Sarr asked as she thumbed through her messenger bag.

“Uh… a cappuccino, I guess.” That was his usual order at the Bean.

She gave a nod and sauntered off to the front of the coffeehouse, leaving him alone in the booth. He wrestled his wallet from his back pocket and found ten dollars inside. A cappuccino couldn’t cost more than that. He gave the coffeehouse another once over and grimaced.

Oh, it could most definitely cost more than that. The water probably cost more than that. He groaned. That ten and the twenty in his bank account were supposed to feed him and Tangy for the rest of the month.

Maybe Ms. Sarr would be generous enough to pick up the tab. She was strange, to say the least. Why was she being so nice to him, so patient? On top of overpaying him for work a brain-dead squirrel could do in its sleep. Something didn’t add up about this arrangement.

At first, he’d thought his gut was warning him of some kind of danger. Marathoning crime documentaries had taught him about criminals using beautiful women to lure in unsuspecting guys. He’d imagined being robbed and thrown into the trunk of a car, being held for ransom, or taken to some basement lab where they’d cut him open alive and steal his heart to save the life of some Columbian drug lord.

Yet here he was, in a fancy coffeehouse, not a creepy cellar, not locked up in a shipping container halfway across the Atlantic. His grandma used to tell him too much TV would give him a warped sense of reality.

Manny pulled his laptop from his bag and looked around the booth for an outlet amongst the abundance of flora.

“So, who’s the lady?”

Manny startled, one hand flying to his chest to clutch his shirt. Damon sat across the way, shit-eating grin plastered on his face. If the son of a bitch wasn’t already dead, Manny would’ve flown over the table and strangled him.

Damon turned to stare at Aurya, who was wooing the young lady at the register with her sweet smiles and gentle mannerisms. “Bro, she is fine as fuck.”

“She is a client, Summers,” Manny said through gritted teeth.

“Then give me her number. Let me holla at her. Or.” He turned back to Manny, mischief splitting his lips into a grin. “I could hook you two up. You need a girl, man.”

Manny gave him a withering look over the top of his laptop. “It would be easier to get a girl if you didn’t keep making me look like a crazy person.”

Damon rolled his eyes.

“Okay, maybe you’re right,” Manny conceded. “Maybe I do need a girl. But not that girl. I mean, look at her.” He watched Aurya laugh at something the girl at the register had said. “You really think she’s single? She drives a fucking Tesla.”

“Okay, fair, but level with me here, Delgado.” Damon leaned in close. “What if she is?”

“If she is, there’s no way in hell she’d go for a guy like me. I mean, have you looked at me.” He pointed at his own face. “My dark circles have dark circles. And what could I possibly give her that she doesn’t already have.”

Damon shrugged. “Love?”

“Get the fuck out of my face, Summers.”