Soul Searching

1: Damn!

Aubrey sighed as she tried to rub the sleep away from her eyes. You'd think she'd realize it was all in vain after the fifth try, but stubborn is as stubborn does right? Or is it stupid is as stupid--she groaned in frustration when she realized all she did was make things worse.

Her lids felt heavy and her eyes kept rolling on their own accord. She shifted in her seat.

"God, I hate this job."

She worked as a security guard for a gated community. She knew she shouldn't have been complaining because she could've been out in the hot sun, or on her feet for hours, but sleep made you hate everything. Really, it wasn't the job that she hated; it was the fact that she stayed up all night to finish her online courses, then woke up at six to start her morning routine.

It took thirty minutes for her to wake up from sleep, after which she'd make breakfast, then wake up her five year old son. They'd go out and do their morning run, then come back to shower and have breakfast together.

Though mothering was a job in itself, it was one she would never complain about, so she opted for the next best option.

She dragged herself out of her thoughts when a car pulled up to her window. It was a white Nissan Altima with windows tinted as dark as her pupils. She waited for the driver to roll down the window so she could ask for ID and their destination.

She tapped her foot impatiently. She hated that the person could see her, yet she couldn't see who it was. Finally, she rolled her eyes internally when the windows rolled down.

Well got damn, she sat up a little straighter when her eyes landed on the driver. He flashed her a smile before handing her his ID.

This fine piece of mmph got the audacity to come here looking like that?

He had smooth skin that reminded her of the sand on the black beach in Iceland. And God, those unbelievably straight teeth did things to her that made her wonder if there was such thing as a teeth fetish.

"Ms?"

She blinked out of her trance. "Yes, da--" she caught herself before she could embarrass herself. Oh my God, I need to find Jesus. I almost called this man daddy. "Yes, dandiano?"

He quirked a brow at her. "Dandiano?" She watched his tongue dart around his mouth as he spoke.

"Yeah, it's um...it means sir in Japanese."

He leaned back in his seat as his smile widened. "You speak Japanese?"

She shrugged. "I dabble a little."

"Impressive. Ohayou gozaimasu. Watashi no namae wa Thomas desu. O-namae wa?"

"Fuckin' shit," she muttered under her breath. For all she knew, he could've been pulling words out of his ass, but it sounded legit. She chuckled a little before responding, "It was one of those Learn Japanese in five minutes videos. And it's been a while, I'm a little rusty." She cleared her throat then looked away to tidy some papers on her desk. "Yup."

"Building 3 apartment 15."

"Huh?" She looked up and met his amused eyes with her confused ones.

"You need to know where I'm going right? And you need my ID."

"Pshh, yeah! Duh." She grabbed the ID from him, glanced down, then handed it back to him. She didn't even look at the name or picture.

She pushed the button that allowed the bar to go up.

"Have a good day Ms."

She rolled her eyes. How dare he come to her job looking like a snack knowing damn well it had been a year since she last had sex? Then he had the audacity to flash her panty dropping smiles and speak Japanese.