Sequel: Vengeful and Accused ›
Status: Writing
Taken and Misused.
Taking a chance.
After I had switched flights a few more times, experianced the torture of taking off and landing in a plane, and drank about fifty sprites to ease my stomach, I was finally in New York.
The big apple, as a pamphlet had called it.
As I got off the plane I noticed the people were all speaking very rapid English, and some people weren't even speaking a language I knew of, sometimes I'd hear bits of French but it didn't sound like proper French. I had just stepped off the plane and already I was overwhelmed.
Someone bumped into me from behind and continued on their way, I decided that was my cue to starting walking again.
I searched around for where I was supposed to retrieve my luggage and after asking a few people, I finally found it just as my flights bags began to revolve around. Here I experienced haste and rude behavior once more as people shoved around to get their bags then just shoved back out of the crowd. I decided to just wait until the crowd has dispersed before I'd try to get my bags again.
It was 10:30 at night before I finally had my luggage, just one large rolling suitcase and a large duffle bag. Both designer, and both gifts from my mother. I didn't see why they were worth so much, the name seemed to be the only thing that increased the price tag. The rest of my things were being shipped over and they'd be at my new studio apartment in the next few days. And I'd be alone to unpack the stuff.
My eyes wanted to just shut as I stepped out into the New York night, getting greeted by the smell of car exhaust and loud shout and the blaring of car horns.
"Pleasant atmosphere" I muttered bitterly as I pulled my suitcase along behind me.
My eyes searched for the driver that was supposed to be waiting for me but he was no where to be seen. I pulled out my phone and dialed my mom's number, she had organized this whole thing after all.
After a few rings she picked up, "You're in New York! How is it Elisabeth?" she gushed, cutting off my greeting.
"Its great, but I can't find my driver" I said, looking around still. "You said he'd be waiting outside of the airport with a sign" I added, shivering slightly in the night air.
"Oh no! Darling I forgot to call the driver when you left!" she exclaimed and I bit back a groan of annoyance. The woman could plan an entire fashion show in a week but when it came to getting me a driver that could get me to my apartment seemed impossible obviously. "Can you get a taxi? There are a lot of those in New York" she said, speaking to someone by her about fabrics before returning to the call.
"Yeah, no problem" I answered, hanging up, I had every right to be annoyed, I thought with a frown. Here I was in a completely new state and I had nothing to get me home other then the paper Jacqueline had written my apartment's address on. I went to the curb and waved my hand for a cab, three passed by with out stopping. This re-occurred another four times and I gave up. Were the cab drivers against me too?
I began walking down the sidewalk away from the airport, I was getting to my apartment some way. Even though this seemed to be the dumbest way.
Headlights lit me up but I continued walking until I heard a car door close, I turned around, nervous of who was walking towards me when I saw the guy whose coffee I had spilt on the plane.
"You aren't planning on walking around at this hour are you?" he called to me as I stopped walking.
"Well..." I muttered, sighing heavily before my nerve broke. "I get sent here all on my own, I don't know where I am, my feet hurt, the cab drivers won't stop for me, I got pushed around when I was trying to get my luggage and I'm tired" I said all at once, finally venting all that pent up annoyance and anger.
It looked like he was stunned, "if you have an address to where you're going I can get you there" he said. "And I'm not a pervert or a serial killer or anything like that so you don't have to worry"
"And I'm supposed to take your word that you're not a serial killer?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow, "I mean, I've just met you and I'm supposed to get in your car without knowing much about you and just hope you're a nice guy?" I added, my voice still slightly exasperated from my rant.
"I'm hoping you will" he said, grinning, not perverted but sincerely.
I looked back up the street where I had been walking and then back to his sleek black car, another sigh bubbled from my lips and that seemed to make his grin break out into a small smile. He knew I was going with him.
"This had to be planned or something" I muttered in French, pulling my suitcase over to him and his car. "You know, I don't even know what your name is" I said, looking at him with my eyebrow knitted together.
This time his smile broke into a full out flash of teeth with a small chuckle. "I told you on the plane, its Vaughn Hart" he said, opening the trunk of his car and putting my rolling suitcase in it while I watched, my cheeks pink once more from embarrassment.
"You're blushing again" he observed, "do you always do that when you get embarrassed miss..." he said, trailing off at the end, waiting to know my name.
"Its Elisabeth, and I'm not embarrassed" I muttered, my French accent curling around my words.
"Of course" Vaughn agreed, suppressing a grin by the looks of it. He opened my door for me, his crooked grin back in place. He obviously couldn't keep a straight face. I didn't reply to his comment, he could believe what he wanted, even if it was true. "Thanks" I said, slipping into the car. Inside it was warm and comforting, much better than the chilly night. Vaughn joined me in the car and put it back in drive.
"So, where am I taking you Elisabeth?" he asked over the soft sound of the music he had left playing.
"3034 Walkers avenue, something called the La Shafto Melore" I said, looking at my new address and noticing how lame it was. Walkers avenue? Really? How original.
Vaughn started driving down the road and before I knew it I had dozed off to the sound of his soft yet masculine voice speaking to me and the music playing.
The big apple, as a pamphlet had called it.
As I got off the plane I noticed the people were all speaking very rapid English, and some people weren't even speaking a language I knew of, sometimes I'd hear bits of French but it didn't sound like proper French. I had just stepped off the plane and already I was overwhelmed.
Someone bumped into me from behind and continued on their way, I decided that was my cue to starting walking again.
I searched around for where I was supposed to retrieve my luggage and after asking a few people, I finally found it just as my flights bags began to revolve around. Here I experienced haste and rude behavior once more as people shoved around to get their bags then just shoved back out of the crowd. I decided to just wait until the crowd has dispersed before I'd try to get my bags again.
It was 10:30 at night before I finally had my luggage, just one large rolling suitcase and a large duffle bag. Both designer, and both gifts from my mother. I didn't see why they were worth so much, the name seemed to be the only thing that increased the price tag. The rest of my things were being shipped over and they'd be at my new studio apartment in the next few days. And I'd be alone to unpack the stuff.
My eyes wanted to just shut as I stepped out into the New York night, getting greeted by the smell of car exhaust and loud shout and the blaring of car horns.
"Pleasant atmosphere" I muttered bitterly as I pulled my suitcase along behind me.
My eyes searched for the driver that was supposed to be waiting for me but he was no where to be seen. I pulled out my phone and dialed my mom's number, she had organized this whole thing after all.
After a few rings she picked up, "You're in New York! How is it Elisabeth?" she gushed, cutting off my greeting.
"Its great, but I can't find my driver" I said, looking around still. "You said he'd be waiting outside of the airport with a sign" I added, shivering slightly in the night air.
"Oh no! Darling I forgot to call the driver when you left!" she exclaimed and I bit back a groan of annoyance. The woman could plan an entire fashion show in a week but when it came to getting me a driver that could get me to my apartment seemed impossible obviously. "Can you get a taxi? There are a lot of those in New York" she said, speaking to someone by her about fabrics before returning to the call.
"Yeah, no problem" I answered, hanging up, I had every right to be annoyed, I thought with a frown. Here I was in a completely new state and I had nothing to get me home other then the paper Jacqueline had written my apartment's address on. I went to the curb and waved my hand for a cab, three passed by with out stopping. This re-occurred another four times and I gave up. Were the cab drivers against me too?
I began walking down the sidewalk away from the airport, I was getting to my apartment some way. Even though this seemed to be the dumbest way.
Headlights lit me up but I continued walking until I heard a car door close, I turned around, nervous of who was walking towards me when I saw the guy whose coffee I had spilt on the plane.
"You aren't planning on walking around at this hour are you?" he called to me as I stopped walking.
"Well..." I muttered, sighing heavily before my nerve broke. "I get sent here all on my own, I don't know where I am, my feet hurt, the cab drivers won't stop for me, I got pushed around when I was trying to get my luggage and I'm tired" I said all at once, finally venting all that pent up annoyance and anger.
It looked like he was stunned, "if you have an address to where you're going I can get you there" he said. "And I'm not a pervert or a serial killer or anything like that so you don't have to worry"
"And I'm supposed to take your word that you're not a serial killer?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow, "I mean, I've just met you and I'm supposed to get in your car without knowing much about you and just hope you're a nice guy?" I added, my voice still slightly exasperated from my rant.
"I'm hoping you will" he said, grinning, not perverted but sincerely.
I looked back up the street where I had been walking and then back to his sleek black car, another sigh bubbled from my lips and that seemed to make his grin break out into a small smile. He knew I was going with him.
"This had to be planned or something" I muttered in French, pulling my suitcase over to him and his car. "You know, I don't even know what your name is" I said, looking at him with my eyebrow knitted together.
This time his smile broke into a full out flash of teeth with a small chuckle. "I told you on the plane, its Vaughn Hart" he said, opening the trunk of his car and putting my rolling suitcase in it while I watched, my cheeks pink once more from embarrassment.
"You're blushing again" he observed, "do you always do that when you get embarrassed miss..." he said, trailing off at the end, waiting to know my name.
"Its Elisabeth, and I'm not embarrassed" I muttered, my French accent curling around my words.
"Of course" Vaughn agreed, suppressing a grin by the looks of it. He opened my door for me, his crooked grin back in place. He obviously couldn't keep a straight face. I didn't reply to his comment, he could believe what he wanted, even if it was true. "Thanks" I said, slipping into the car. Inside it was warm and comforting, much better than the chilly night. Vaughn joined me in the car and put it back in drive.
"So, where am I taking you Elisabeth?" he asked over the soft sound of the music he had left playing.
"3034 Walkers avenue, something called the La Shafto Melore" I said, looking at my new address and noticing how lame it was. Walkers avenue? Really? How original.
Vaughn started driving down the road and before I knew it I had dozed off to the sound of his soft yet masculine voice speaking to me and the music playing.