Luxe by Ashley Antoinette Page B

alongside her. She kept her head straight as the car crept. I probably look like a hooker, she thought as she picked up her pace. “Bleu! Do you need a ride?”
    Marta’s voice caused her to stop. Iman and Marta sat in the car awaiting her answer. “No, I’m good. Thank you,” she said, too proud to accept.
    â€œYou can’t walk all the way to UCLA, mami . Please get in the car. Iman can drop you off after he takes me home,” Marta reasoned.
    â€œI don’t want to be an inconvenience,” Bleu said as she continued to walk slowly. “I promise you, I’m fine. It’s a nice night. I’ll walk for a little while and then catch a cab the rest of the way.”
    The car stopped and Iman hopped out as Marta moved into the driver’s seat. Bleu stopped walking as he approached and Marta pulled away. “What are you doing? Where is she going?”
    â€œHome. There was no way she was letting me pull off and leave you out here this late at night, and since you weren’t getting in the car…”
    â€œThis is stupid. You don’t have to walk me,” she answered persistently.
    â€œAre you always this combative?” he asked with a smile.
    â€œUsually,” she admitted, causing him to laugh.
    â€œThe pretty girls usually are,” he answered. She blushed and lowered her head, not sure of how to respond. That line was a little original; okay, playboy, I see you, she thought, making herself chuckle slightly.
    â€œWhat’s so funny?” he asked.
    She shook her head and waved her hand dismissively. “Nothing,” she responded.
    He started walking, hands stuffed in his pockets as he strolled with a cool confidence by her side. “How did you get my aunt to hire you? She doesn’t trust anyone with her restaurant. She wouldn’t even let me bus tables, so how does a complete stranger win her over?”
    She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess good people just recognize good people.”
    â€œThat makes me bad people?” he asked, placing his hand over his heart as if she had wounded him.
    She smiled and shook her head. “No, bad people don’t get out of a new Mercedes to make sure that a random girl makes it home.”
    â€œSo, tell me the truth. Why are we really walking?” he asked.
    â€œI don’t have money for cab fare. I barely had enough to catch the bus down here. I guess I didn’t think of how I would get back,” she admitted.
    â€œThat’s a lot of trouble for a waitressing job at a taco spot,” he answered, trying to figure her out.
    â€œYeah, well, I need the money, so…” She shrugged without finishing her statement. She didn’t expect a guy like Iman to understand. He smelled like money. “A Richie Rich type like you wouldn’t get it. I’ve got to work for everything I get. No silver spoons over here.”
    He stopped walking and grabbed her elbow to make her face him. “I understand, ma, and I respect it.”
    Those gray eyes pulled her in as she stared at his handsome features.
    Suddenly he raised his arm, signaling the lone cab that was driving down the street. The driver pulled over and rolled down his window. “I’m not working! Taking it in for the night!”
    Iman pulled out a Gotti knot, revealing the cash to the driver, enticing him to stop. It was true what they said; money made the world go round, because just like that the cabdriver was suddenly willing to pick up one last fare. Iman peeled off two hundred-dollar bills. “Get her where she has to go, a’ight?” He leaned down over the car and passed the money through the passenger window. Opening the back door, he held it open for her.
    â€œYou didn’t have to do that,” she said. “What about you?”
    â€œI’ll catch the next one,” he said. “Where are you going?”
    â€œRieber Hall,” she responded.
    He leaned