Arranged

Nessa stepped off the private jet and heaved a sigh. Pulling off the ear pods screaming some random artist from the new iPod her friends had given her - already packed with music, of course - she looked around.
Two weeks had gone by in a flash. She still couldn't believe it was all happening, But the teary goodbyes that had come too early still clogged her memory.
No, she chided herself. She would not cry. She had to have her sits about her. Somehow, she was getting out of this. And if she couldn't? Well, then she'd make sure her fiance let her live her own life. Arranged or not, she was going to make the best of this. But, as she took it in, she wondered exactly how she was going to do that.
It was a completely different world. And though she felt a tug of recognition seeing the trees and grass, she already missed the beach and sand.
Shrugging her backpack on, she grabbed her suitcases and walked toward the airport and a very conspicuous man in black holding a sign. When she got close enough, she saw the sign read her name.
And that people were staring.
Rushing over, she hissed, "For crying out loud, put that thing away. You'd think in this day and age you'd already know what I look like through a picture or something."
The man - a tall man maybe in his mid-twenties with sandy-blonde hair and brown eyes - smiled easily. "Yes, but I thought this was more fun."
Unable to stop herself, she grinned. "I guess I'd have done the same thing." Heaving a sigh, she stuck out her hand. "I'm also guessing that you're Mr. Rich-And-Famous' chauffeur?"
The man chuckled, but seemed mildly shocked at the hand she offered. Even if he was paid to work for them, he was still human.
"Joshua," the man said. "And yes, I drive them. Though Mr. Louis and the Young Master wouldn't like it at all if I called them such."
"You don't actually call him 'Young Master', do you?" she asked, horrified at the very thought.
He reached over and grabbed a suitcase, marveling at how light it was. "Why, yes, Little Miss."
She blanched. "Oh, no, you don't. Not with me. I don't want to be stuck in the same boat with those guys. I prefer to be called by my name - which is Nessa, in case you didn't read your sign. I've been called that for seventeen years and it's the only thing I'll answer to, so I think I'd like to continue to be called that."
The man roared with laughter. "I think I like you, Nessa."
She smiled. "I think I like you, too." Maybe it won't be so bad, she thought. As they stepped out of the small airport, she looked around. "So where's the car?" She a black limo and prayed that wasn't it, but as Joshua moved towards it, she sighed. "Should have known."
He chuckled. "Oh, come on, it's not so bad." He opened the door to it after throwing her suitcases into the trunk. She peeked inside.
"Nope," she agreed. "Not bad at all." Just like every other limo I've ever seen, she thought. She backed out and, leaving Joshua holding the door, walked over and got into the passenger seat, stowing her backpack at her feet.
After a few minutes, she heard the door shut and watched as a stupefied Joshua got in behind the wheel and start the car.
He glanced at her as he pulled out, a small smile on the handsome face. "I can see you're not like the rest of them."
She snorted, crossing her arms. She new exactly who "them" were. "Damn straight. Proud of it. I intend to stay proud of it, too."
His smile grew. "One can only hope."
As Joshua drove away from the airport, he had a feeling that this petite girl with the unruly brown hair was going to stir up the lives at Manor House.
Whether that was a good or bad thing was still yet to be decided.