midnight rain [f. colapinto]

f o r t y

Evita slipped on her heels, giving herself one last glance in the mirror of her hotel room. She told herself that the night would be fun, that she needed a break. A night out with Genevieve would be a great way to blow off steam. She grabbed her purse, checked her phone, and saw a text from her friend.

GEN
almost at the club
you on your way?

EVITA
leaving now
see you in 20

...

Evita dropped her phone into her bag and headed out the door. The soft click of her heels echoes down the hallway as she made her way toward the elevators. The last thing she expected, however, was to run into Franco as she turned the corner to the elevator lobby.

"Whoa," said Franco, reaching out to steady her as she nearly bumped into him. His hands lingered barely a second too long on her arms before he let go. "You're in a hurry."

Evita took a step back, quickly eliminating contact, her pulse quickening for all the wrong reasons. "Franco. What are you doing here?"

He leaned casually against the wall. He was dressed in slacks and a white button down, the sleeves rolled up casually. A few stray curls lay across his forehead. Evita had to admit, he looked quite handsome. "Staying in the hotel, like the rest of the team. My room's right there." He pointed his chin to the door just two rooms from hers. "Didn't realize we were neighbors. That's convenient."

Evita's face fell. Of course he had to be staying nearby. "Convenient's one way to put it."

Franco's eyes slid down her body, taking in every inch of her. His smile widened, turning into something filled with excitement. "Heading out? You look dressed for trouble."

Evita crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly quite aware of how much skin her dress was showing. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes. I'm meeting Genevieve."

Franco nodded. "Ah, the girl you met in Baku. You're meeting her at Headquarters?" He was referring to one of Singapore's many nightclubs.

Evita hesitated, unsure how he always seemed to know things he shouldn't. "Yeah. Why?"

"I was heading there too," said Franco. "I'm meeting some reserve drivers there."

"And I'll drive you. It's a waste of time waiting for a taxi when I'm already going," said Franco, stealing another glance at Evita's scandalous outfit.

Evita felt her face flush at the constant stares.

"No thanks, I'll manage," said Evita.

"Come on, Beautiful. It's late, taxis take forever, and you're in those gorgeous heels. You might as well let me help you out."

Evita gave him a dirty look. "I don't need your help. And why do you even care?"

Franco shrugged, his gaze flicking back up to meet hers. "I'm a gentleman. Besides, you look way too pretty to be standing around waiting for a taxi."

There was a compliment buried in his words, but Evita refused to take the bait. "I'm not here for your sweet talk, Franco."

"Who said anything about sweet talk?" he asked. "I just say what I see. Always have."

"And you see what, exactly?"

Franco stepped closer. Evita could feel the heat radiating off his body. "I see you, Evita. Looking absolutely ravishing, as usual."

Warmth bloomed in Evita's cheeks, and she silently cursed herself for letting hsi words get under her skin. "Fine," she muttered. She was already running late and Genevieve would be expecting her at the club. "But this doesn't mean I owe you anything."

Franco grinned, clearly delighted that she'd caved. "Wouldn't dream of it."

They waited for the valet in the lobby, Franco practically glued to Evita's side. She could feel him glancing her way, but refused to give him the satisfaction of reacting.

"Don't tell me you're already regretting this," teased Franco as the sleek black sports car pulled up to the hotel entrance. The valet worker exited the car and handed the keys to Franco. Franco opened the passenger door for Evita, who carefully stepped in. Franco got in the driver's side and turned the car on.

"I'm regretting everything about tonight already," muttered Evita.

The low growl of the engine filled the small space. As he pulled onto the street, Evita crossed her arms, staring out of the window and ignoring him.

The ride was mostly quiet, though Evita could feel the occasional glance Franco shot her way. She tried to focus on the lights of the city, but it was hard to ignore Franco when he was sitting mere centimeters away, practically radiating smugness.

"So," he said, breaking the silence. "What's the plan tonight? Just drinks and dancing with Genevieve?"

Evita glanced over at him. "The plan is for you to stay out of my way."

They pulled into a parking spot on a side street near Headquarters. Before Evita could even reach for the door, Franco was already out, rounding the car to open it for her. He offered his hand, but she ignored it, stepping out on her own.

"Thanks for the ride," she said flatly, already eager to disappear inside.

She started to turn around to go inside, but Franco hurried after her. "Wait for me," he said.

As soon as the two stepped inside the club, Evita immediately spotted the bouncy curls of Genevieve Phillips.

"You look so pretty!" squealed Genevieve, stumbling into the arms of her friend.

"So do you!" cried Evita, taking a step back to better support the taller girl.

Evita felt a hand on her lower back. It was Franco, reaching out to steady her, preventing the two girls from tumbling to the ground.

As soon as Genevieve righted herself and let go of Evita, Evita stepped forward and away from Franco.

"Come on, let's get drinks," said Gen, disappearing into the crowd, leaving Evita to either stay behind with Franco or hurry after her. After one look at Franco, Evita decided she needed a drink or two to get the weekend off her mind, so she followed her friend to the bar.