Miami, Florida
Seventeen year-old Rochelle Rathbone walked out of the Miami Mall. Her hands and arms were laden with packages containing new clothing she purchased to spice up her wardrobe for the last weeks of her senior year of high school. After locating her mother's car in the parking lot, she put her shopping bags on the back seat. Sliding under the steering wheel, she was none the wiser that her life was about to take a turn down a path she would one day regret.
“Drive carefully. Watch the speed limit. Watch out for other drivers,” Rochelle's mother had cautioned when handing over the car keys.
“Mama, I know how to drive,” Rochelle rebutted with her usual defensiveness.
Settling comfortably on the driver's seat, Rochelle turned on the radio. Tuning to a station she liked, she turned up the volume. After cranking the car, she glanced to the left and to the right, trying to see around the rear end of vehicles flanking her car. She didn't see anything moving, so she shoved the gear in reverse, planted her foot on the accelerator too hard, and went flying backwards.
The sound of metal crashing against metal rang in her ears even above the blast of music on the car radio. The impact thrust her forward, banging her head on the steering wheel. A dizzy spell grabbed her, making her vision fuzzy.
Not until her car door was jerked open and an angry voice shouted, “Why in the hell don't you watch where you're going,” did she start regaining her equilibrium.
“What?” she muttered, touching her hand to her forehead where it hit the steering wheel. She felt a big bump there.
The angry voice softened. “Are you all right?”
“What?”
With a sigh of impatience, his hand flew past her and turned off the car radio. “I asked if you're all right.”
“I think I am,” she replied, turning to look at him, and seeing a businessman dressed in an expensive suit with a modest tie and a snow-white silk shirt.
“Here, let me have a look.” Somewhat impatiently he pulled her hand away from her forehead and touched the lump with his fingers.
“Ouch!” Rochelle yelled, jerking away when he pressed too hard.
“You probably need to have that x-rayed,” he suggested.
Rochelle looked at him, finally twisting in her seat to gain a look at his car. She slid out of the driver's seat and put her feet on the pavement, silently praying her mother's car hadn't sustained damage or else it might be the end of her driving days.
Still feeling dizzy, she staggered and fell against the car, raising her hand to her forehead.
The man reached out to support her. “Are you sure you're okay?”
“I think I am,” she said, moving toward the back of the car where her car bumper lay against a big dent in the side of the man's car. A cursory examination of her vehicle showed a broken taillight and a nearly unnoticeable dent on one end of the bumper. “Oh God, my mother will kill me,” she whispered in near tears. “What am I going to do?”
The man shook his head. “I'm going to pull your car forward so I can move mine out of the traffic area and park it.”
Before Rochelle could object, he was already sliding under the wheel of her mother's car, cranking it, and driving it forward into the parking space.
“I'm so sorry,” Rochelle said to the man after he moved his car out of the roadway.
“Do you have insurance?”
Her face fell in a worried expression before she blurted out anxiously. “Please don't file a claim against my mom's insurance. I have a little money saved, and if it isn't enough I'll get a job and pay you every penny it takes to fix your car.”
“Miss, I'm sure your mother will be so happy to have you home in one piece that the damaged car won't bother her in the least.”
“You don't know my mother. She'll never let me drive again. I've got to get the tail light fixed before I go home.”
He looked her over carefully, from head to toe and liked what he saw. A lazy smile softened his features. “I tell you what—why don't I drive your car and take you somewhere for a drink and we'll decide how best to handle this.”
Rochelle nodded agreeably, eager to do just about anything to keep her mother from learning about her wreck. She didn't think anything was wrong with her going with the man to a restaurant or soda shop, not if he was willing to work with her on a payment plan.
Instead, he took her to a disco club where everyone seemed to know him.
“My name is Tobias Chandler,” he said, reaching his hand across the table after they took a booth in a dimly lit area.
Rochelle took his hand. “Rochelle Rathbone,” she said timidly.
“I can't stay long. I have to get the tail light fixed.”
Tobias ordered a coke for Rochelle and a scotch and water for himself. “How's that bump on your head?” he asked, far more friendly now than he was initially.
Rochelle sent him a timid grin. “It hurts, but I think it will feel much better if you're willing to let me pay for the damages to your car on a time-payment plan.”
He grinned as his eyes scanned over her alabaster skin, her full red lips, and her lovely youthful figure with firm breasts. He shifted his attention to her hair, a glorious shade of auburn red with golden highlights. It hung down upon her slender shoulders in dancing waves and curls. Tobias Chandler decided he wanted Rochelle Rathbone and he always got what he wanted.
“I think we can work something out,” he said, reaching across the table to touch her hand.
She sent him a wide, dazzling smile, her pink lips looking soft, moist and inviting. Girlishly, she grabbed his hand and clung to it.
“Oh, thank you. Mother would never let me drive her car again if she learned I had a wreck. I must get the taillight fixed before I go home.”
“I know where you can take it. It'll be repaired quickly, and then you and I can talk about how you plan to pay me,” he remarked slyly, hinting at something far more intimate than money.