Oh god I'm going to be late, again. There going to fire me aren't they. Oh shit, what time is I? Why do I not have a watch on? Where's my cell? Two thirty. Crap the meeting's in fifteen minutes and its at least a half hour away in traffic, and there is always traffic in Santa Monica to LA. Okay calm down Brianna, it will be okay. You're car broke down, right that's your excuse. A gurgle arose from my stomach as I slammed the door to the two bedroom, beach bungalow I shared with my best friend and roommate Lily Michaels. It was an incredibly cute rental only down the street from the beach. I never went to the beach. I just loved to look at it. The miles and miles of water going on and on. The people everywhere, most tan with blonde hair. So different from where I grew up, a little town outside of Dallas, Texas. My accent was almost gone, it came out when I was scared or nervous or excited but other than that you would have never guessed I wasn't Californian. I had blonde hair that was to my shoulders and had slightly wavy layers, my favorite asset, with almost California tan skin.

Crap! Ten minutes and I couldn't find a parking spot yesterday so I blocked almost two blocks down. CRAP!

I was a ad executive at one of Los Angeles's top ad agencies and I had a presentation to a top fast food chain in ten minutes. Why did I wait so long to get ready, oh that's right Lily had a "crisis." Her mom had called and she needed to fit her into her "busy" schedule. Lily had the most cushy job I had ever heard of. She was a "loan agent" and pretty much all she did all day was talk with clients, complete some paperwork, and then go surfing at her two hour lunch, and then she got off at four thirty. Luckily, being a surfer, Lily was used to getting up at the crack of down so her schedule is as follows: 4:30 get up and go surfing, 5:30 come home and get ready, 6 arrive at work, 11 go to lunch and surf, 1: return to work, 4:30 leave work and surf some more, 5:30 come home and get ready for a night out, 6:30 meet me at work and either take me to dinner or bring me take-out, anywhere from 11 to 1:30 come home and go to bed and then start it over again. How she functioned on three to five hours of sleep beat me. I needed at least nine to function.

Okay where is that folder. It's blue, all my folders are blue, I need more variety. Why can't I be more like Lily. She never stresses, no, she surfs. Okay is that it? No, that's a different blue folder in it. Okay where is it. That's got to be it.

Right as I thought that, CRASH!. I felt the papers fly out of my hands and my butt hit cement. God that hurt. I looked up and an incredibly good-looking man on a skateboard was looking down at me. He was on a skateboard and looked confused then his hand shot down and I grabbed it. Wow was he cute, but a jerk, he ran right into me.

"Sorry," he said. "My fault."

Well maybe I should have been paying attention to where I was going. I mean it is the beach and people are on wheels of some sort everywhere.

"No all my fault," I said then saw that my papers where in a massive pile of chaos. "Shit."

"What?" he asked then saw the papers everywhere. "Sorry."

"No I'm going to be late to a really important meeting," I told him. Why was I telling him this, oh right those eyes. Deep blue ocean eyes that were gorgeous, perfect blue eyes. "And my car is like three blocks that way."

"Want a ride to you car?" he asked.

"I doubt your skateboard can hold both of us," I laughed.

"No, that's what I'm going on," he pointed and at first I didn't see what he was pointing at. Than I saw it, it was a Vespa.

"Uh no thanks," I laughed. "You don't have a helmet for me."

"I have an extra in the storage compartment," he told me.

"What about you?" I asked.

"I'll wear this one," he said pointing to his helmet.

"Right," I said feeling stupid. What about you? He's wearing a helmet Brianna.

"So I can get you to your car faster," he told me.

"Fine," I said not really having the time I was wasting. He threw me a white helmet and I buckled it on and hopped on the back. I positioned my legs and held around his waist. Thank god I decided on the pants and not the skirt. It was an odd ride. I felt a little uncomfortable holding onto the waist of someone I just met not even five minutes ago but was thankful for the ride. He had strapped his skateboard onto the back rack and it was scrapping me. I had me piles of paper positioned in-between me and, wait I don't even know his name. I asked him.

"Aaron," he said. "I'd shake your hand but."

"No it's fine," I told him. "Brianna."

"Nice to meet you Brianna."

He dropped me off at my car, I thanked him, and that was that. I should have forgotten him about him the moment I stepped into my car. But I didn't. I kept seeing his face, his blonde hair, his tan skin, his beautiful blue eyes. I all but forgot about being late for my presentation until I walked into the room. But I was shocked at what I saw. There wasn't angry faces, or disgruntled men all sitting around but instead they were all laughing.

AN: PLEASE REVIEW I'M NOT ABOVE BEGGING