"What do you think of that new lawyer the firm just hired? Byron." Elizabeth asked Stacy as the two paralegals walked from their office; Elizabeth toward home, Stacy to her car.
"I don't think anything of him. I'm engaged." Stacy answered, fluttering her left hand which held a small diamond ring, newly placed there.
Elizabeth made a small face of "Oh yeah I remember now" but continued her train of thought. "Well I think he's kind of creepy looking. So pale and all."
"Oh," Said Stacy sounding slightly disappointed, "I thought you were going to say you thought he was cute. You know you haven't had a date in ages!"
"Please don't remind me of that ok. I've been through more batteries than any girl should!" Elizabeth answered.
They both laughed as they reached Stacy's car and said goodbye. Elizabeth remained deep in thought about Byron as she continued on her way walking home. Much as she thought he looked kind of creepy with his dark hair and eyes and white as marble skin, at night when she went home to that battery eating vibrator, it was usually his face she saw in her minds eye. That was what was really troubling her as she walked the nearly dark city street toward home.
A gruff voice saying, "Hand over your purse and you will be fine!" startled Elizabeth from her reverie.
Two men blocked her off from the street. On her left were buildings, and she gauged her chances of running.
"I said lady, hand over the bag." The shorter of the two demanded.
"She's not bad lookin,'" the taller thug observed. "I like blondes."
"Tall bitches are hot," the shorter one leered and the two of them corralled her towards the shadows.
"Shit!" Elizabeth thought, looking franticly for an escape route. "Here, take my purse," she offered.
"We will. After," the bigger one growled, reaching for her breast when he was shoved to the side by someone appearing as if from nowhere. In an instant, her attackers were on the ground, bleeding and there beside her was Byron.
"Are you alright Elizabeth?" he asked with his deep voice.
"What, yes, fine. Where did you come from?" She stammered fighting tears.
"Here come with me. Inside here," And he was steering her toward the nearest office building. She followed as if in a daze.
Once inside Byron led her across the lobby and into a private elevator. He swiped a key-card and pushed the elevator's only button.
The doors opened into a suite, partly illuminated by indirect lighting.
"Is this your home Byron?" She asked.
"It's a place I know," he replied off-handedly. "You're safe now Elizabeth. I'll get us some wine to calm your nerves."
She looked around the plush, hotel style apartment; very dark and modern, sleek furnishings, all reds and blacks. The only seating, she noticed was a plush bed in the center of the room.
Byron returned with two goblets of wine and gestured for her to take a seat.
Noting her hesitation he grinned and said, "I won't bite you Elizabeth. I just saved you from being mugged." He looked deep into her eyes, not touching her at all and whispered "Trust me."
She sat.
He handed her a glass and she asked,
"Where were you Byron? It's like you came out of no where to save me."
He laughed .
