Billie picked a song from her playlist on her phone, and the music had some serious bass. It thrummed through Quentin's body. Effortlessly, she guided them out of New York City and onto the highway. He could see she was totally in the zone. Something about this machine fits her personality. Maybe it was its power, undeniable yet subtle, just like her.

The car slowed and Billie took what looked like a black lacquered chopstick from between the seats. With one hand on the wheel, somehow she tied up her long, dark hair with it. It impressed Quentin. The woman had skills. Billie tapped a button, and the top came down, turning the car into a convertible. 

Once they hit the open road, Billie got to show him the real power behind the machine. 

"Sweet ride," Quentin said, enjoying both the drive and the driver. Billie looked at him but only held his gaze for a heartbeat before returning her attention to the road.

"You know you're nothing like I thought you would be," he confessed and saw the playful smile tug at her lips.

"Dare I ask what you thought I would be like?" she quipped.

Quentin shook his head, embarrassed that he fell prey to the rumors and hype just as she had about him. "It doesn't matter what I thought. What matters is what I think now."

Billie's one eyebrow rose. "And what do you think now?"

"That you Billie Dupree are a mystery, an amazing mystery, and a walking contradiction, and this has created a combination that's driving me crazy. I want to get to know you, Ms. Dupree. No. I must get to know you."

Billie's laugh was almost a snort of derision. "Wow, that flew right off the cuff there, huh? Impressive. I do appreciate the effort, but I must tell you I'm not built to accept flattery. You really are wasting your time."

"Yet she blushes when the parking attendant calls her beautiful."

Billie's eyes darted to look over at Quentin, he smiled at the annoyance he caught in her eyes. He liked getting under her skin, even if it was just to irritate her.

"He didn't call me beautiful, she said, 'I was looking mighty fine,' and Carlos is easy to believe because his compliment comes without an agenda."

"So, if I compliment you, I must want something from you? Is that it?" Quentin asked, enjoying getting this sneak peek into her psyche.

Billie's expression and words dripped with sarcasm when she asked, "You don't?"

Did she ever answer a question directly? Quentin wondered. He understood why both fathers didn't want Billie at the meeting. She was formidable when challenged, but she was right, he did want something. Not that his compliments were insincere, but he'd be a liar if he pretended he didn't want her. That he wasn't thinking right now how to convince her to give in to him.

Billie's phone rang. She saw it was her father, and she reached over and turned it off. Quentin noticed the shift in her mood.

"New to the whole disappointing your parents' thing? I've got plenty of pointers if you need them. I'm practically a black belt." Quentin chuckled at his own joke.

"No, thank you, got my own stripes."

"You? I highly doubt that. An M.I.T. graduate. The way your father talks about you. You're the apple of your daddy's eye. How can you possibly be a disappointment?"

"I'm not a boy," she stated simply, but that one statement held such heartache. Quentin could hear it in the hollow tone of her voice.

"Seriously?" He couldn't believe her father would hold that against her.

Billie shrugged. "That and I look like my mom."

Quentin pressed. "If your father wanted a son so badly, why didn't your parents try to have more children?"

"My mother couldn't. She almost died giving birth to me. They tried for years. I was an ART baby."

"ART baby?" Quentin questioned.

"Assisted Reproductive Technology," Billie said caustically, "the best money could buy. Basically, a fancy way of saying I was conceived in a petri dish. Not exactly the most romantic of origin stories. Things were going well, then not so well. I was premature and breech, so they had to do an emergency C-section. They got me out, but my mother started bleeding heavily. They almost lost her and me. We both survived, but an infection set in. My mom recovered, but no more children."

"So you're a disappointment because you aren't a boy and because you look so much like your mother, who's now gone. When did she die?"

He noticed Billie's grip on the wheel tightened. "Two years ago. Cancer. From diagnosis to death... we had about 4 months with her."

"Jesus, I'm sorry."

Billie continued to stare straight at the road. "My dad loved her so much. I mean, he could have hired a surrogate; he could have had an affair if he wanted. There were plenty of women over the years that would have taken the shot, but he didn't. He knew it would hurt her, and so that ended the discussion."

"He's a good man," Quentin said, knowing his own father's record with infidelity.

"He's the best. That's why it's so important to me that he doesn't lose this company too. I can't stand the idea of watching him lose everything."

Quentin had seen Billie wipe away a tear that had fallen and that quickly she had control and not another tear fell. He couldn't imagine being that in control of his emotions. He tended to wear his own on his sleeve.

"Sorry, guess I'm a bit of a downer for a first date," Billie said, trying to add some levity to their conversation.

"Date, huh? Is that what this is?" Quentin knew she was joking, but the idea had merit.

Billie continued to play along, not wanting to talk about herself anymore. "What did you think it was?"

"A kidnapping, perhaps?"

"Kidnapping?" Billie laughed. "But you came with me willingly."

"That just goes to show how good you are at seducing me."

"Me? Seduce you? You were the one in his underwear on my sofa?"

Quentin laughed at the reminder.

Intrigued, Billie asked, "Okay, for the sake of argument, why would I bother to kidnap you?" 

"You blame me for my father wanting to take over your father's company. You believe me a co-conspirator. What better way to get your revenge than seducing me, kidnapping and ransoming me back to my father to save your own company?"

"Not what I had planned, but your idea intrigues me, Mr. Harrison. I like it. So kidnapping and ransoming, huh?" Billie questioned with a grin.

"You forgot the seduction part," Quentin reminded her.

"No. I remembered. I just didn't see why it was necessary to the plan. You are, after all, already in my car.

Quentin's eyes widened. "That's harsh, Ms. Dupree. I'm worth billions. The least I should get out of it is a little snogging."

"Snogging?" Billie giggled.

"Sorry, it's the Brit in me, on my mother's side. Plus, it wouldn't be polite to say what I really had in mind."

Billie laughed out loud. "You're English. I'm French. History demands we should be mortal enemies."

"Technically, since we're second-generation that makes up both Americans, and I'm all for rewriting history." 

"I don't think it works that way," Billie said.

"From what I heard, you're not one to shy away from hard work."

"True, but unfortunately I can't say the same about you," she teased.

"Ouch!" Quentin pretended to be hurt, covering his heart with his hand. "Okay, guilty as charged, but not entirely my fault. Or at least that's the way I see it."

"Oh really? And why is that?"

"My entire life is already written. Down to the tiniest detail. There's no room for growth. My father has groomed me since birth to take over his business. No one ever asked me what I wanted. So if I'm not properly motivated to live this life laid out before me, is that my fault?"

It surprised Quentin to see Billie had pulled into a cemetery and not just any Cemetery but Sleepy Hollow.

"Have you decided to just kill me instead and ditch the body?" Quentin asked, thinking this was the weirdest first date he's ever been on, yet he couldn't remember when he had enjoyed himself or a woman's company more.

Billie giggled. She parked the car and put the top up. Her expression turned downright mischievous. Billie got out of the car and leaned in to say,

"Follow me... if you dare."

AUTHOR'S Note: Hope you enjoy the song. Had it stuck in my head when writing this chapter. Hope you enjoy both the song and the chapter.