Chapter 16:

The first thing I see is her high heel-clad foot hit the pavement. The second one joins it as she stands from the seat. She's tall and thin with legs that go on for a mile.

Sliding my gaze up her stems, I note the smart black skirt perfectly tailored to fit her body, the billowy white blouse that seems to hover over her skin instead of actually touching it, then her long, lean neck. She has on huge sunglasses-popular with the ladies these days-hiding most of her features, but her nose is slim and straight. Her dark-black hair tied back at the base of her neck. She is the picture of perfection, but looks brutal as hell.

Pushing off the car, I walk to her, extending my hand. "Sasha Maxwell." I introduce myself.

She lifts the glasses from her face with her left hand, extending her right with a snide grin. "Sasha, huh?" She doesn't wait for a response to the arrogant way she snarled my name. "Claire Weston."

Times like these I hate my parents for giving me a name like Sasha. As a k