Adler | The Aces of St.Sinclair BOOK 1.

Reflection | A THIRTY TWO

I was thankfully only stuck camping by a bookstore three blocks from the campus for fifty minutes. Then I saw the relieving sight of a silver luxury car pull up front.

Perfect timing too, as a downpour had began to fall. Although, I felt a little bad I was using my first time of getting in touch to grab a ride, but I was sure Ms. Dion would laugh it off with her classic charming smiles. Now I could also thank her in person for the presents.

Preparing myself to be drenched, I dashed out of the store and navigated past walkers wielding umbrellas to my sheltered, seat-warmer in waiting.

My fingers clasped the slippery car door and pried it open. I beamed in excitement to be greeted by that rosy aroma and the endearing woman dressed ready for a runway. I nearly jumped when there was no aroma and instead I found a man sat in the rich leather seating. At the least, he was dressed fashionably etiquette but I didn't want to give him the pleasure of a compliment on it.

"Are you getting in or flooding the place?" barked Beswick.

Realising I was just staring, I warily climbed into the vehicle. His cologne wafted my nostrils when he pressed his arm, unnecessarily rough in my opinion, over my chest to reach the door latch to lock. The dozen jewels dangling from his neck jingled when he drew back and I could ease up once there was a space between us. I shifted even further back.

The chauffer I realised that hadn't been Vincent proceeded to steer the car down the road in route to the highway. I craned my neck, eyes darting in desperate search for my eccentric French lady.

"Are you poor in manners too?" snapped the man I was trying to pretend wasn't there. "A simple 'Afternoon, sir' or 'Hello, Mr. Beswick' isn't so hard."

"Where's Ms. Dion?"

"Hitchin, busy screening through the drafts of thirty one models." He replied. "Then suddenly she gets a call from her 'niece' that needs a lift. So I told her I'd take care of it since I needed to stop by my office anyway."

I frowned. "Oh."

"Is that it? Oh." He mimicked my tone in a terrible imitation. "How about a little thank you huh?"

I served him an apathetic blink and averted my eyes to the window, having a feeling this was going to be a long two hours.

"What are you doing all out here in Cambridge anyway?" He tapped away on his phone, the bluntness of his keyboard tone sounded even more insufferably louder. "Is it all the range for criminals to carry out their scams nowadays?"

"Yeah, they're not as easy suckers like you so it's actually a challenge."

He passed me a glance that I matched with a smirk, gloating at the apparent agitation that flickered in his features before he broke into sneer. "Big words coming from a drowned rat."

I narrowed my eyes, set to whip out a comeback to wipe off the smug look, only for his ringtone to blare out in that second. He swiftly answered and I clenched my jaw, resolving to let the heating dry me off.

I got comfortable in my corner, staring out through the rain streaked glass at nothing in particular. I wasn't sure how many minutes Beswick's phone call lasted before it grew sedately silent with just the gentle hum of the engine.

I considered taking a nap then hopefully see uncle Louie's hotel the next time I opened my eyes. It ended up being the next three seconds when an animalistic growl erupted in the confided space.

Every inch of me stiffened, praying it had not been as audible as I'd thought.

"Was that your stomach?"