Good Samaritan

I didn’t recognise the voice or the face of the elegant-looking man. But my teeth were chattering, my legs were threatening to give out. I got in the car. What was the worst that could happen? I thought. He couldn’t be a mugger, not when he was riding around in a car that cost a quarter million dollars. Maybe he was a rapist, but I still had my can of pepper spray in the bag. ‘Thank you.’ I held my tote bag in front of my body like a shield, almost groaned out loud when my butt sank into the white leather seat covered with faux fur. The car rolled forward. ‘Here.’ The man handed me a silk handkerchief and switched on the dome light. ‘Thank you.’ I wiped my face with it. ‘Georgie, turn up the AC, will you?’ ‘Yes, sir.’ The chauffeur touched something on the dashboard. Soon, the interior of the car warmed up. I blinked away the water in my eyes, stole a glance at the man seated next to me, and gave myself points for not gawking openly. He was almost ridiculously handsome, with an angular