Vanessa

I expected Brent's driver would take us to some intimate restaurant in Carpinteria. But instead, we sat in the passenger seat of Brent's car for a longer ride.

I'm bored.

Whenever I glance at Brent, he's doing one of two things: reading legal documents or writing on his legal pad.

Either way, I'm invisible.

Brent's now dressed in a black tuxedo with an amber-colored bowtie. His cologne filled the air.

It's intoxicating.

Yes, I ...