"Bye, Chloe," Marilyn calls as she jumps into the red jeep. I can see her latest fling in the window. He grabbed her and they start kissing each other passionately. I turn my head away, unsure if I want to see Marilyn's heavy make-out session 1st-hand.

"See ya tomorrow," Zoe shouts as her Mercedes disappears into the night.

I sigh and look around the empty lobby. Everyone has gone around already and I'm left here on my own to take public transport. No offence to New York's transport system but I'm just sick of waiting for the metro. I want a boyfriend to drive me home and kiss me goodnight. Is that too much to ask?

Slightly deflated, I start to trudge towards the metro, feeling depressed and unhappy. Gosh. I'm just so irritated and horny tonight. What I want is to have wild passionate sex all night long so that I can feel fully satisfied to go to work. I suppose I can go to the bar and hook up with someone but I definitely do not want to repeat the same scenario again.

The last time I went home with a guy, we were on the verge of ripping each other's clothes off when he suddenly whispered, "I'm actually a girl." I was so shocked. It turned out that he, no- she, was a bisexual who liked to cross-dress. Okay, I've nothing against bisexuals or cross-dressers but the last time I checked, I was still a normal craving-for-man type of woman. You never know what kind of people you pick up at a bar.

"Chloe?"

I look up to find a black Aston Martin parked at the curb of the pavement. Woah. You don't see many Aston Martins around here. I wonder if some guy had seen me at the deli and found that I was cute and somehow tracked me down here. I quickly look towards the driver's wheel.

Shit.

It's Ed.

My hot-guy-from-the-deli fantasy ruined, I manage a half-hearted wave. He got out of the car and he stares at me. I don't get it. Why does he like staring at me so much? It makes any normal girl self-conscious. Okay, fine, I'm not...so normal but I can practically feel the heat from his intense gaze. It wouldn't surprise me if I start to sizzle.

"You going home?" he asks unusually gently.

"Yes but that's none of your business," I shoot back.

He might have been a stalker in his past-life. What kind of a guy parks his car and waits for a girl who's neither a friend nor his girlfriend? Someone strange, that's what. Doesn't he have things to do? I mean, I've a lot of things to do like....like... Fine, I might be quite free but I've other stuff to do like take a good long bath when I get home and stop thinking about someone. Since he's a boss, shouldn't he be going home to sort out paperwork and STOP harassing a poor innocent girl like me?

I think someone should tell me that. Just not...me.

"Want me to give you a ride?"

I glance at his ridiculously expensive car. I'm half-tempted to just put down my pride and get into the damn car with him. It's been so long since someone fetched me from work.

Think, Chloe. Think.

"No," I grit through my teeth. "I can take the metro myself."

Resist. Resist. Resist.

"Are you sure?" He quirks up his eyebrows. "The metro's down tonight."

"Down? What do you mean down?"

"It broke down."

"How do you know?" Maybe he's trying to trick me. I never knew he's the sly sort.

"Google."

"The metro never breaks down! Never! " I say, slightly hysterically. It's basically my lifeline. How am I going to go home at this rate?

"Give it up," he laughs.

"Did you hijack it or something? So that I can go home with you?" I narrow my eyes suspiciously, doing my best imitation of an intimidating Sherlock Holmes who goes around questioning everyone. For all I know, Ed probably has a host of hackers at his beck and call. He can go, "Look, Dave, I want you to hijack the metro because I just so happen want to trick this girl into going home with me."

I suppose I'm flattered but wouldn't that be downright creepy?

"Please." He rolls his eyes disbelievingly. "Though I'm a computer genius, I don't have the capability to rig the government's transport network. You think too highly of me."

"You sure this is not a secret conspiracy plot to get me into your bed?" Not that I will mind of course. I wonder how he looks like out of his clothes....I digress.

His eyes twinkle with amusement. "Maybe, Ms I've-only-had-sex-5-times."

"Stop saying that aloud. Someone will hear!" I whisper. I do have a reputation to maintain. I mean who hangs out with a geek with so little sexual experience?

"Can you just get into the car so that we don't look like 2 terrorists trying to bomb the building?" He narrows his eyes at me.

Oh right. I'm wearing all black- black T-shirt, trousers and shoes. He had changed into fresh new black T-shirt and pants out of his million-buck suit. I guess we do look a bit suspicious.

"Okay, just this once." I try to sound nonchalant and all but I gleefully got into the car.

Ah, bliss.

Ed slid into the driver's seat and he start to lean towards me. My eyes widen and I growl, "What on earth are you doing?" If he dares to put his sexy hands on me, I'm going to.....bite him.

"Just trying to fasten your seatbelt."

"Oh right."

I think I hyperventilate too much whenever I'm near guys. Maybe I should just pack my bags and move to somewhere nowhere near civilisation. But what will happen to Evelyn? Who's going to feed her sandwiches so that she won't starve? What will happen to Mum? Who's going to accompany her to Twilight screenings since no decent human being would do that?

"So...you haven't had dinner yet?" Ed asks as the car moves swiftly into the highway. I want a car like this. Maybe if I starve myself and eat nothing but apples, I can buy an Aston Matin by the time I'm fifty.

"Yea. And please don't tell me you're bringing me out for dinner," I moan.

"That's too bad." He shrugs. "I wanted to take you out to Gabrilo for some mouth-watering pasta and wine."

Damn. He's making it hard to resist him. I know for a fact that there's nothing at home but leftover bread and plain water.

"You're paying for the meal because I'm broke."

"This is the first time a girl asks me straight out to pay. Girls always beat around the bush."

"That's how I operate. If you don't like it, forget it."

"Cute."

"Cute? Cute what?"

I resent being called cute. It's such a vague word that can mean something...or nothing. Why can't he call me pretty or attractive? At least, I can appropriately respond with some witty comment.

"I like your attitude. So are you in on the dinner date?" he asks.

"Fine.And stop calling it a date. It makes it sound as if we are together which we are not," I snap.

"So...we're going as....?" Ed enquires, a bemused smile on his face.

"As a friend," I finish proudly. There, see? I can draw the line. My 8th grade sex-education teacher would have been proud. Abstinence is the way to go.

"Right, as friends," he says quietly.

I know what both of us thinking.

I don't want to stay just as friends. I want something more.

***

I know, I know. I'm sounding like some whacked-up teenager pining over her latest crush but I just can't....help it. My hormones are pushing me to rip over that T-shirt there and then and I'm doing my best to restrain them.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Think of butterflies, birds, beautiful trees.

The waiter leads us to a private booth and I sigh as I lean back against the comfy chair. This is the first time in months since I ate something that wasn't either leftovers or canned food. I can't help but feel grateful to Mr Hottie Boss for this priviledge. Not that I'll ever be telling him that. It'll just boost his ego.

"What do you want to have?" he asks as he hands me the menu.

I give a cursory glance and almost drop the menu in shock. Hello? It's so expensive. How can you pay so much to eat oysters? I can pay my entire rent with that amount of money? Okay, maybe not my entire rent, like...one-third of the rent. Still, it's a lot of money. I can practically buy a ticket and go to the Bahamas if I don't order the lobster soup for one.

"Can I have garlic bread please? Does it come with plain water?" I ask. Maybe I can just wash down all the bread with water.

"Are you sure that's enough?" Ed asks sternly. His eyes run down my body and I flush. "You're too thin for your own good. Let us have the lobster soup and a plate of oyster pasta for her and the same thing for me." He hands the menu to the waiter.

"Noo!" I shout and wrench the menu back. "I'm fine with the garlic bread. I eat very little usually."

"Why are you making all these so fucking difficult?" he growls. For the first time, he looks angry.

I lower my voice. "The food here are all so expensive! Why don't we sneak off and buy instant pizza. It will be far cheaper. My treat."

"So that's all you are worried about?" Ed gives a casual laugh. He takes the menu and hands it back to the waiter. "Just go with the previous order."

As the waiter stalks away, I kick him under the chair and he winces. Serves him right.

"Ouch," he moans softly. "What was that for?"

"That was for not listening to me," I snap.

"You can't scrimp on food. Besides, I said that I will pay," he says.

I fold my arms defiantly. He folds his arms too and we stare at each other. Do you notice how much staring is done when we're together? It's so strange. I don't know about him but I like staring at him I mean. I notice how his hair always curls at the front, how he forgot to shave last night because of the slight stubble.

"You're different, you know," Ed says. The staring contest continues. I don't even know why he likes looking at me? I'm no model. My hair is frizzy since I didn't use conditioner and my face is so....pale and sallow.

"You don't order the most expensive item on the list just to fleece my money," he continues.

"I'm not a cheapskate. I just...prefer to spend money on more useful means."

People like Ed probably don't care a hoot about how they spend their money but I do. You would if you had to spend hot summer afternoons cleaning people's houses just to afford the school fees ever since you were sixteen. You would if you had to forgo days of food just to pay for yoga classes. I don't suppose Ed understands that. He probably had a maid to put on his clothes.

We sit in silence for awhile. Around us, all the couple are laughing away and here we are, trying to do a stare-down.

"So, how's work so far?" he asks politely.

"Ok."

"Been to anymore blind dates?" he asks but his voice sounds strained. "Met any new guys?"

"No. What are you playing, Twenty questions?"

"I just want to get to know you."

"Look, if it's sex you want, go find someone else." I don't even provide good sex. So why is he following me around?

"I don't want just sex," he says, dead-pan.

"What do you want then?"

"Something more."

"Look, you do not want to know me," I quickly say. "I snore when I sleep. I leave my clothes lying on the floor everywhere I go and I don't have any manners Besides I'm not good at sex with my limited experience. Go for Marilyn, she's warm for your bed."

"So you're the one who has been planting ideas in Marilyn's head that I'm interested in her." His eyes widen with comprehension. "It's all your fault. You're the reason why she keeps barging into my office and flashing her cleavage." His face contorts into a picture of disgust and I laugh.

"She did that?" I giggle. "No shit. She had some guts." Marilyn loves the thrill of the chase and she always goes straight for the kill. She reminds me of a lion, sometimes, the way she preys on innocent man by dumping there a day after they went out.

He glares at me, giving me the ultimate evil eye and I shrug indifferently.

"Are you going for the work outing?" he asks.

"Work outing?" I narrow my eyes.

"The annual outing whereby all the staff goes for a hike and a picnic to foster bonding," he says in a monotonous tone.

"I skip that every year. It's boring." I roll my eyes mockingly. "Besides, I hate almost everyone in the company. I don't see the point in the outing." I don't mention that I always wander off to bars and spend the day drinking that particular day for the past few years.

"You're going to go this year. I made it mandatory. If you don't turn up, you're going to get demerit points."

"What?" I bleched. Even Raymond the Pig doesn't do that. He's always too busy mooching other girls. "How dare you, insolent rat!"

"So melodramatic." Ed waves his hand. "This is payback for the Marilyn stunt you pulled off me. As you said, this is war."

"War, my foot. It's not fair. You're the boss," I grunt.

"All's fair in love and war," he replies.

Does he have to sound so philosophical and cliche at the same time? I hate this. I can't believe I'm spending my time on this dinner date.

Looks like this is going to be a long night.