Chapter 3 First Encounter

• PRESENT DAY.
• Zoe’s POV
• Needless to say, Monday is the most difficult day to get up and go to work.
• So here I am, sitting on the edge of the bed, observing the unmatched sandal that is still under my desk. I've been staring at it for at least ten minutes, trying to remember where I left the other one. My mom has called me three times to go take a shower. During her last call, she pointed out how little morning activity I’m having (laziness), saying that she’s just going to shower first.
• I lie back on the bed, waiting for time to pass. After a few minutes, I check the time on my phone and realize that it's already late.
• If I don't hurry now, I'll get fired from work.
• I take out some clothes from the drawer and lay them on the bed. I grab my towel and stand in line outside the bathroom, waiting for my mother to hurry up and come out.
• "Mom, it's late,” I say as I knock on the door. “Hurry up!”
• "Now you have to wait! I've been telling you many times to get up and you didn't," my mother responds as I hear the water still running. She even starts humming.
• "Mom, please hurry up. It's really late."
• "I know," she responds to my face.
• Mrs. Helena, as I sometimes refer to her, comes out of the bathroom dressed and all.
• "Oh, I didn’t know you were ready." I laugh as I enter the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
• "Hurry up, Zoe. The water will turn cold soon," my mother shouts from somewhere in the house.
• Quickly, I take off the t-shirt and the tiny shorts I sleep in. Then I get into the shower.
• Everything happens so fast—hot water, shampoo, soap, more water... cold, very cold.
• I try to rinse off the soap from my face and body as quickly as I can while shivering from the cold. I step out of the shower like a bat out of hell, trembling as I dry myself as fast as I can. I run to my bedroom to seek the warmth of my room and change quickly.
• I leave my bedroom, brushing my hair that reaches my waist, and I see my mom singing in the kitchen while preparing the sandwiches. I notice that she has the tap open, but I don't see any dirty dishes in it...
• "Mom?"
• "Ew," she says without looking at me.
• "Mom," I speak to her again as I apply a special serum to my purple-dyed hair.
• "What?" she asks without looking at me.
• "There's not enough water in the world and you're wasting it."
• "That's right. I'll close it now," she says, but she doesn't close the tap.
• I approach the kitchen and turn the tap off myself.
• "Mom," I call her again, but she ignores me. I start brushing my hair again to style it a bit.
• "Ew," she responds half-heartedly.
• "Mom, are you okay?"
• "Yes, why?"
• "Well, because I was taking a shower and you turned on the kitchen tap, I almost froze inside. Besides, you're very distracted. I've been talking to you for a while and you're not responsive."
• "I'm not responsive?" she asks somewhat confused as she hands me my lunch in a Tupperware container.
• "Yes, Mom, you're not responsive. Distracted, too. Is everything okay?"
• "Yes, sweetheart. Everything's fine." She kisses me on the forehead. "Come on, let's go. Get the Uber."
• "Okay, Mom. Let's go."
• I put the Tupperware in my backpack and put on my ankle boots. I'm not very tall, but not short either. I'm five foot five, but my high-heeled boots make me look taller.
• While my mother finishes organizing her things, I order the Uber and go out to the patio. We both live in a small private neighborhood for as long as I can remember. My grandparents lived here and passed the house down to her. Many of our neighbors are already old with married children, so the neighborhood is filled with grandchildren every weekend. They usually wake up late, so at this time, it's just my mother and I outside, leaving for work.
• I walk out to the street to wait for the Uber, which arrives quickly. I glance over and see that my mother has already locked the door and is rushing outside.
• The Uber pulls up just in time for her to get here. I check the app and see the driver's name: Pablo.
• “Good morning,” he greets us as we get into the car.
• “Good morning, sir,” my mother responds. I just smile at him through the rearview mirror. Pablo is handsome.
• “Just to confirm, we're going to the I&P Associates building. Is that correct?”
• Both my mother and I nod at the same time. Pablo smiles at us and starts driving.
• As usual, he offers us water, changes the radio, and even tries to give us candy. Throughout the journey, I can't help but sneak glances at him through the rearview mirror.
• He has honey-colored eyes, a full beard, brown hair, and golden skin. He's a total hottie. My mother is engrossed in her phone, so I nudge her to look at the delicious driver we have. She ignores me. I nudge her again, and she ignores me once more.
• “Helena, are you okay?” I address my mother informally, but she doesn't respond, still engrossed in her phone. “Mom.”
• “Uh-huh,” she responds.
• I take her phone away, and she gives me a death stare.
• “Give that back,” she says while trying to retrieve her phone from my hands, but I keep it away from her.
• I've never seen her so distracted, which is not normal. It worries me.
• “Mom, I've been talking to you for a while, and you're not responding. Tell me what's going on,” I demand, concerned.
• “Nothing, dear. Everything is fine. Don't worry.” She takes the phone from my hands. “We'll talk when you get home tonight.”
• Once she says that, she goes back to texting on her phone. I try to read over her shoulder, but it's impossible.
• “I think things are wrong. I should be the one glued on my phone, and you should be demanding my attention. Not the other way around,” I comment ironically.
• Pablo lets out a small laugh that I catch through the rearview mirror. He has the most delightful dimples. At least someone in this car notices my desperation. My mother hasn't noticed anything.
• A few minutes later, we arrive at the building where she works. I study and work a few streets up, but we decided to come together to make use of the same ride. As she gets out, I handle the payment transaction to the driver.
• “Thank you, Pablo,” I say, giving this beauty one last look before getting out of the car, and I hear him saying it was a pleasure, thanking us.
• My mother gives me a kiss on the cheek and walks towards the building. I stand there watching her as she leaves, her hair a bit longer than usual. She usually wears it shoulder-length, black and straight. She has a slender figure, which makes her look much younger. Sometimes people even mistake her for my older sister, since she had me very young. Too young, I think, at seventeen.
• She has worked here for the past twenty-two years of her life.
• Since my father died, one of her bosses took pity on her since she had no education and gave her a steady job in the company. It's nothing special. My mother is the cleaning lady. But she has seen this empire rise from simple offices and become one of the most prestigious businesses in the country.
• I see her take out her ID badge before entering the door, although she doesn't need it since she’s even more well-known here than the boss himself. Mike, the doorman, raises his hand and greets me before taking my mother's pass and scanning it for attendance. I return the greeting before heading to work.
• I check the time on my watch and quickly turn around when I realize I only have fifteen minutes to get there. My reaction is so abrupt that I bump into someone instantly and accidentally spill their coffee.
• “Sorry! I didn't see you!” I say as I pick up the empty cup and throw it into the nearby trash can.
• “Sorry? Are you blind or something?” the most sarcastic person in the world says to me with a notable deep voice and an English accent. He adjusts his jacket, glaring at me.
• “It was an accident, sorry,” I respond to his jibe.
• “An accident would be getting run over by a car, not pushing people around because you're in a hurry.” He raises his left eyebrow arrogantly.
• “Idiot,” I comment as I walk past him to go to work.
• “Look who's talking,” he responds rudely and walks towards the building.
• I glance at him, annoyed by his attitude. I reach the sidewalk and check the time again.
• Damn, I have almost ten minutes left.
• “Damn it.”
• “Late?”
• I turn to the source of that voice.
• It's the driver, Pablo, standing by the side of the Uber.
• “A little,” I respond kindly, getting ready to continue walking. My boss told me he would fire me if I’m late again.
• "Wait, I'll take you. I'm off duty so don't worry. I won't charge you."
• "No, it's fine. It’s very close." I glance at the time again.
• "How close?" he asks with a sweet half-smile.
• “Thirty-second Avenue," I reply.
• "That's not close. Come on, I'll take you. Besides, it's right next to my school, so no problem for me."
• "Alright, but at least let me pay for the ride," I suggest as I approach the car.
• Pablo laughs and opens the passenger door for me. "It's not necessary," he says as I get in and he closes the door.
• He walks in front of the car, allowing me to observe him more closely. He has well-toned arms and a broad back with a narrow waist. He's wearing jeans and a polo shirt with a leather jacket. A truly sexy and exquisite man.
• He gets in the car and my mind wanders, imagining all the possible ways to undress him… or not. He starts the car and drives onto the street. Just as he's about to move forward, I glance sideways at the building, and the guy with an air of grandeur stands at the entrance, watching me.
• I seize the opportunity and stick my middle finger out and stick my tongue out at him.
• Childish, me? Never.
• "Do you know him?" Pablo's voice brings me back to adulthood.
• "No, it's the first time I've seen him here. He's probably a new intern. They think highly of themselves but do little. Did you see what happened earlier?"
• "It was impossible not to see it. It was chaos with the coffee or whatever he had in the cup. His first day started badly," he comments without enthusiasm.
• "His or mine?" I say defensively.
• "In theory, if it's his first day and it's Monday, so he needed that coffee. It's logical that it was an accident. It wasn't right how he spoke to you. We all noticed," he explains, and I start to agree with him. Not entirely, but his opinion makes sense.
• He continues driving and moves his fingers on the steering wheel as he speaks.
• "You might be right. But that doesn't change how strange and creepy you looked paying attention to everything," I tease him, trying to get him to explain why he was still there.
• "Oh, that. Well, I was hoping for one last trip before starting university. I went out to check the tire when I noticed the accident. I was going to get closer in case you needed any help, but it wasn't necessary," he finishes explaining and looks at me with a smile on his beautiful face.
• "Alright, you're not a stalker. But then, what are you?" I say flirtatiously.
• "What am I? I can be many things, whatever you want," he responds sensually.
• "I like that. You can drop me off there." I point to the university building. "Let me get my wallet to pay you."
• "I told you it's not necessary. I mean it," he says as he sees my intentions.
• "I feel like I'm taking advantage of your trust and I just met you." I smile, pretending to be shy. In reality, I would like not to pay, there are still five days until payday.
• "It's not taking advantage if I offer myself. And even if I didn't offer, I would let you take advantage of me as many times as you want."
• Now, my face is a red canvas and he revels in it. I remain silent, searching my subconscious for a creative response, but I find none. He parks the car, and before he gets out, he takes a pen from his dashboard and takes my hand, writing something on it.
• He is so close to me that I can smell his delicious scent. He leans in and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. How daring! But just because he's this handsome, I let him.
• "I'll see you later, Lizzy."
• "Lizzy?" I ask confused as I quickly get out of the car. “That’s not my name.”
• "I'll leave that as homework for you.” He winks and starts the car as I close the door.
• "Alright. Goodbye," I say curtly, trying not to prolong the farewell that is already five minutes late.