and big blue eyes.
Ominous, so ominous of surprise.
The sun beat down, warming you on the already hot day, and you cursed the stupid slacks that you had to wear as part of your uniform. Normally it didn't matter that you had to wear black pants because you got to sit in an air-conditioned car all day. Today was an exception. You had to pick up your newest client from the airport, which meant that you had to stand outside in the pick-up zone and hold up a large sign so that your client could find you.
You briefly fanned yourself with the sign as you leaned against your car. Technically it wasn't legal for you to park your car in front of the pick up zone for LAX's international terminal, but there was a nice little area for taxis, and since that was kind of what you were, albeit a private one, you always waited there.
This was an important job for you. The last businessman had requested a different driver simply because he felt uncomfortable with a woman driving him around (more like he didn't think women should drive period, sexist jerk). After that, your boss had let you know that the company was considering letting you go. Which was completely unfair since you were easily one of their best drivers, even if you were one of the youngest. You didn't have any accidents or tickets on your record, you'd been driving around L.A. since you were sixteen, and you never got lost. Unfortunately, your company served a lot of businessman from out of the country. Your job was to drive them around L.A. while they were here for business, but sometimes those men were sexist and didn't like a woman in the driver's seat.
You needed this Japanese businessman to keep you. From the way they talked about him, telling you to do anything he asked, he seemed important. Maybe if he gave you a good review they would stop thinking about letting you go. It would be even better if he requested you as his driver every time he was in L.A. Some of your fellow drivers had regular customers, but you did not. It was another factor that worked against you.
You held the sign up above your head and wondered where your new client was. His flight should have landed about half an hour ago, giving him plenty of time to get off and grab his bags. Unless of course, the bags weren't getting sent out quickly enough. In that case, he was probably still waiting for his bags. You hoped that this wasn't the case; it made your job difficult if your clients were frustrated and angry before they even met you for the first time.
Then you noticed someone approaching you. At least, you were fairly sure he was approaching you since he seemed to be heading directly at you. At first you thought that he was your new client, but once you really looked at him, you didn't think that was possible. He was very young, much too young to be an important man in the business world. He came to a stop right in front of you, and you stared up into his blue eyes, half expecting him to ask for directions. Then you realized that, if he was your businessman, staring into his eyes like this was very rude. You glanced away.
“Mr. Kaiba?” you tentatively asked.
“Oh! Welcome to L.A. I'll be your driver for the duration of your stay.” You gave him your name and quickly opened the backseat door for him. “Let me get your bags.” You reached for his bags.
He let you take his bags and got into the car without a word. You grinned. He hadn't put up a fight or tried to insist that you let him get his own bags. That was a good sign. It meant he didn't have a problem with a female getting his bags, opening his doors, or driving him around. You put his bags into the trunk before getting into the car.
“Straight to your hotel?” you asked.
You looked back at him in your rear-view mirror and noted that he already had his laptop out. You decided that, since he was working, you should shut up and just drive in silence. Sometimes your clients liked to talk to you, but you could already tell that this guy was the silent and serious type. Mr. Kaiba was not looking for a friend, which was disappointing. He was delicious to look at. You glanced at him again in the rear-view mirror. It was a shame that someone that attractive didn't want to talk to you. Driving him around would have been more enjoyable if he were social.
Not that you would ever get involved with a client. No, that was against the rules. So maybe his antisocial nature was for the best. It would keep you from being tempted to start some sort of relationship with him.