Mr. Right is so Wrong!

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2. Her [edited]

The Aston Martin DB9 came to a roaring halt in the parking lot of United Financials Bank. The lot was empty for a weekday. So empty in fact that Gabriel Evans couldn’t even spot the car of his personal banker. Maybe the old man had stepped out for lunch before the 12 o’clock rush hour began. The man stepped out of the driver side, and placed his hands on the top of his sports car as he took a quick sweep of his surroundings. There was nothing that looked like it would interfere with his work. Gabe reached into the car, and pulled off his blazer from the back of his seat and swung it on. It was one of fall’s cooler days. Putting on his brand-name sunglasses, he closed the driver side door and opened the trunk, pulling out the black briefcase with his company’s name on it.

A two minute walk later, he was inside the classic design building, which may have passed for a manor in the old days. Gabriel hung his glasses on his chest pocket and made a quick observation: yep, it was definitely a slow day. He saw only one or two other clients, and the bank employees were doing things they couldn’t do on a busy day. He began to look around, for anyone who would look up to recognize him and tell him where are his banker was, who also happen to be the manager.

Only one lady looked up at him over her friend’s shoulder as they were working, but it was a face he didn’t recognize, and he doubted she knew him. As Gabriel moved his neck around further, the same girl kept an eye on him as if evaluating whether he was a customer or a robber.

She straightened her black dress and excused herself from her coworker before walking up to him. She intertwined her fingers by her stomach–her very flat stomach–and welcomed him. Gabriel gave her a quick up and down; her outfit was working well for her figure: a black pencil dress with a bronze belt around her waist, standing on ankle strap heels. He definitely liked what he saw, proven by the smile on his face.

She’d asked him if she could help.

“Well if you couldn’t, neither of us would be here.”

The girl laughed, leaning over her clasped fingers. She was young, 25 or 26 maybe.

Her laugh drew a chuckle from him.

“You’re a new face around here.”

“I am!” The girl leaned back on her torso as if impressed.

“Moved here just some weeks ago. Leah Walters, I’m the new bank manager.” She finally extended her hand for a shake.

Gabriel took her hand and gave it a proper shake.

“Impressive! You don’t look like you’re 52 years old.” he pulled on her hand, leaning his head closer.

“What’s your secret?”

“My secret,” Leah whispered, “is that I just turned 28 this year.” She laughed and distanced herself, walking him into the building.

28, so he was close.

“I’ve been working with this bank for 9 years; started from teller, now I’m manager.”

Gabriel pouted his lip, impressed by her career advancement.

“Not bad! Gabriel Evans, bank regular. Actually I am the manager’s regular, my deposits are a bit,” he raised his briefcase, “heavy.”

“Alright, we’ll go sit in my office.”

As she led him to her office, he couldn’t help but make a quick exam of her backside. Yeah, this girl definitely went to the gym. He mentally kicked himself, he was being such a pervert. But then again, he was quick to notice that he never chided himself before for being a perv. This Leah was definitely different. A good different.

Leah ushered him to his seat and walked over to her side, tucking back a stray hair before she sat. Gabe noticed her thin wrists, her painted nails on the ends of long fingers as she quickly typed to pull up his files.

“Let me just pull up your stuff here,” she dragged the last word as she concentrated on the computer, probably pulling up his file. “So Mr. Evans, what is it that you do that you have such heavy deposits?” While her gaze was on the computer, the question was directed at him.

“I am the C.E.O of my own company,” he told her, putting the brief on the table, which had his company name emblemed across the center.

“Wow! That’s pretty big shot!”

He introduced himself, telling her why and how he made such heavy deposits. For his day Job, he ran a company he had built up. It wasn’t entirely from scratch, he had taken over a small business, and quickly turned it into multimillion dollar empire. He wasn’t a well-known billionaire, as the likes of Trump or Hilton, and it worked well with this night job. What his night job was, he wasn’t at liberty to say.

He noticed as he spoke, she took interest in what he had to say. He even recognized signs of unconscious flirtation. Gabe liked her laugh, and he momentarily, consciously, chose to say things in a way that would derive a laugh from her. He saw her coworkers sneaking peeks at them, but they all ran back to their places as Leah began to show him out.

“Been around the town much?” Gabriel asked, his hand on the small of her back.

“Not too much. Still settling in” She crossed her arms.

Gabriel made a lazy nod as he took in the information, thinking of what use it could be to him.

“Of course. Any way, if you’re ever free, I’d love to welcome you to town,” he let go at the same moment she drew her hands back, and they grazed against his, making his hand feel suddenly warm.

“How will you ever find me?” Leah asked, her hands clasped behind her back as she walked him to the front door.

His phone rang, and he tapped on the mute button after looking at the name on the touch screen. His brows furrowed as his mind thought back to the office. He was getting late for work.

“I can run a company, I’m sure I can run down a phone number.” He laughed, “If not, I certainly know where you work!” He waved his hand, referring to the building they were standing in.

“Have a good evening, Miss Walters.”
He nodded to her with a smile, and then was out the door.

Even as he swung on his glasses and walked to the trunk of his car, her smile was still on his mind. And as he dialed the phone number back, he heard her laugh rather than the dial tone. Oh this girl was on his mind now, and she wasn’t a face he’d mind seeing everyday.

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