Yui had to grudgingly agree there was not much they could do there without the missing parts. She had arranged for a rental car – a white BMW, similar to the one she owned back home. She believed it would be comfortable for her to drive. However, as they exited the warehouse and met the local dealer, Adam swiftly snatched the keys before she could react.

“You're not driving," he stated, his tone firm but not aggressive. "Don't make that face. Let me be a gentleman for once. Plus, you're the boss here. It won't look good if you drive me around."

She squared her shoulders, ready to challenge him. “Since when do you have a driver's license? When was your last ticket? What was your last ticket for?"

"Since I was 18. What do you think my last ticket was for? You seem to have a knack for making assumptions," he offered, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Speeding or driving under the influence, or both," she shot back without hesitation.

"It was a parking ticket," he replied dryly, opening the passenger door for her with a flourish.

"You're insufferable!" she declared, sliding into the car with a huff.

He leaned in, his face close to hers. "I tried the gentlemanly way. It didn't seem to work on you. So, tell me, boss, why are you so... rigid?"

"Rigid? I'll have you know; I am not rigid. I do yoga and Pilates every day," she paused, a hint of realization slowly dawning on her face. "Oh, you're talking about my personality. How very considerate of you, Mister Stroe. Judging me without even knowing me," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she buckled her seatbelt.

"Returning the favor," he said, starting the car. "Admit it, you had made up your mind about me before we even set foot on that plane."

She turned to face him, her eyes cold. "I would never admit to such a thing. I never judge people without getting to know them... and I feel like I know you plenty."

"Alright, go ahead, criticize me. What did I do to land myself on Miss Ishida's blacklist?"

"I would rather not. It wouldn't be professional of me," she replied, her tone stiff, missing the playful undertone of his question.

"Do you want me to do you instead?" he asked with a teasing grin. His demeanor seemed impervious to her elegant insults, but there was a hint of exasperation showing after five hours of her scrutinizing his every move as he worked on his DOG-turned ROACH.

"Oh please, do," Yui allowed sarcasm to slip into her tone, just to cover the fact that she was actually genuinely curious.

As they drove, the streets of Málaga blurred past them, a mix of modern buildings and historic architecture. Adam maneuvered the SUV smoothly through the tight traffic, heading towards the city exit that led down Costa del Sol.

"I was flirting. That was a sexual innuendo. Do you live cooped up in your office in Japan and never go out?"

"What?" She only realized what he meant after he clarified, and she turned beet red. She tried to look out the window, but she knew that her pale skin made it impossible to hide being flustered. "I actually thought you were going to highlight my flaws."

"I think I just did. A guy offers you sex and you say ‘yes, please’, then almost choke in indignation."

"Are you implying that I'm frigid? I'll have you know, I am NOT," Yui told herself she would not let the engineer get to her again, yet here she was. She fought the urge to cross her arms over her chest.

"I'm suggesting you're a prude, but call it what you want," he retorted, opening the window to rest his elbow on it and light a cigarette.

"I am NOT a prude," she hissed back, and as soon as she spotted the cigarette, she pointed a finger in his face. "No, you don't. This car is a non-smoking car."

"But you're not a prude? I'm blowing the smoke out the window."

"No, it's a non-smoking car, and you do NOT smoke in a non-smoking car. You can pull over and smoke outside," she couldn’t believe the audacity of the man.

"For fuck's sake, my mom is Eastern European, and she's not even a tenth as nagging," he pulled over nevertheless and got out, slamming the door with a force that echoed her own frustration.

"It was stated in the contract I just signed," she called out after him, her voice sharp, ensuring he heard every word. His insult had stung this time. She wasn’t even sure what was worse, being called naggy, or being cut off rudely.

"And smoking is not good for you," she added, mostly to herself, her voice softer now as he was already a few steps away from the car. He leaned against the railing separating the highway from the beaches sprawling downhill.

She took a moment to breathe, trying to calm her racing heart. Yui really wanted to hate him at that moment, but as she looked at him, the orange halo from the setting sun framed him perfectly. Why did the infuriating bastard have to be more good-looking than all of Yui’s fictional crushes mashed into one perfect pack?