Sherelle Green - A Miami Affair

Becca shook her head. “Come on, you know very well what I mean.”

“Another example,” Josh said snapping his fingers. “A child given up for adoption and reunited with their birth parents after twenty years.”

“Not a good one,” Becca said. “One of my close friends was given up for adoption and when she reunited with her birth mother at twenty-five, her mother knew who she was immediately.”

“So based off what you’re saying, if it would have taken you twenty seconds to identify a luxury car, you could have had your title of luxury vehicle enthusiast revoked?”

Becca leaned forward. “It never takes me twenty seconds to identify a luxury car. Ten seconds tops, and even then it’s probably because the car was passing by too fast for me to get a good look.”

Josh smiled at her confidence. He’d always been a fan of a good debate and it was refreshing to meet a woman who could keep up with him. He glanced out the window of the restaurant at the parking lot. There were numerous vehicles in the lot that he could ask Becca to identify to test her theory. The prestigious restaurant was crawling with money, and with money came expensive cars.

“If you’re going to ask me to identify one of the luxury cars in the parking lot, don’t bother,” Becca said as she took a sip of water.

“Why not, Ms. Wright? Afraid you’ll misidentify a vehicle and prove your theory false?”

Becca leaned back in her chair. “Quite the contrary, Mr. DeLong. The reason I told you not to bother is because I already identified all the luxury cars in the parking lot in the thirty seconds it took for us to exit your vehicle and enter the restaurant.”

Josh shook his head. “Yeah, right. I’ll believe it when I hear it.”

The smirk that crossed Becca’s lips gave him fair warning that he should prepare to be wowed. “I’ll skip your French blue baby and start with mentioning the Mercedes-Benz S-Class in the far right corner of the lot. Then there’s a Mercedes-Benz E-Class two cars down from it. Two BMW 4 Series—one gray and the other white. A brilliant yellow Lamborghini Aventador parked next to the white BMW. A Lexus ES parked in the left corner two spaces away from a classic 1966 Jaguar. And although I’m sure, just like you, most of the owners of the vehicles used valet parking, the smartest owner is the one who probably paid the valet extra to park his or her sexy red 1958 Ferrari 250 GT LWB California Spider in the only semi-discreet spot in the parking lot. That spot also happens to be the closest to the valet desk. You don’t leave classics like the Ferrari unattended for long. The Jaguar owner should probably take notes from the Ferrari owner.”

Josh tried his best to keep a straight face. Who in the world is this woman? He was rarely speechless, but Becca had completely stolen the words from his mouth. There was something about her that challenged him, and finding a woman who truly challenged him had been so difficult, he’d often thought that such a woman didn’t exist. At least, she hadn’t existed until Becca Wright.

“In case you haven’t done the math, it should have taken me forty-five seconds to name all nine luxury cars in the lot, but you and I both know it didn’t take that long to walk into the restaurant.” Becca took another sip of her water. “And there’s no need to tell me that you’re impressed because I can read it in your eyes.”

Her satisfied smile was wide and it caused him to smile right back. Everything she’d said was right. He was impressed. More than he had been in a very long time.

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