Something about her being the worst hostage held some truth which caused him to smile. “Maybe I will put up a ransom to take you back. Split the amount and get the word spread fast not to take you at all.” His voice held a bit of a chuckle as he found his personal joke to be humorous. Then again Serge, poor Serge, always had a bazaar sense of humor and even his coworkers didn’t quite understand it. But to her saying he didn’t have to work out, he shook his head. “No, if I have the opportunity to work out and still do my job I will take it. It keeps me from breaking my normal routine so I will not complain.” 

This wasn’t going to be too bad. Everything would turn out okay… or so he thought. As they settled into the car, her transformation had begun and without really realizing what he was getting into he became more and more uncomfortable. His body tensed as she worked her body in and out of the clothing and proceeded to apply heavy makeup and… and… increase her breast size without getting breast implants. Good… GOD what did he get himself into with a woman like this?! He could have sworn this was going to be a walk in the park! His grip tightened slightly on the stirring wheel, discomfort taking over his posture as he drove. What the hell did he just witness? Her transformation was like magic and she’s OKAY with it?!

Her question about it not being reported back to her father made his body ease slightly. “No problem there….” He whispered softly, his gaze refusing to look at her. “I would not even know where to begin with my report. That is the best magic trick I have ever seen.” His hands finally loosened on the stirring wheel as they approached her work and he pulled the SUV into one of the parking spots. This poor girl, working for everything she has. It’s a wonderful quality but… well she could find a place better… but would ‘better’ work with her chaos of a schedule? Probably not. And women wonder why men have trust issues. Simple, women aren’t themselves around men. Which would explain why he enjoyed a much more natural look on a woman; if she can’t be herself around him, would she really be happy? 

“I will be back in no more than 20 minutes. I do not live far. Save me a table in a corner. Preferably with decent-ish lighting and allows me to view most of the bar. But do know, that if I hear a scream from you, I will come running and I do not care where you are or what you are doing; I will break a door if I have to. Do not make it a game though, I had a client do that to me before and he was very surprised when something bad did happen that I still showed up. Last time I ever guard a kid…” He muttered under his breath about the ungrateful child. Pulling the car into the spot he climbed out and opened her door for her. Once she was out he opened the door to the bar but didn’t follow her inside, “Do not get kidnapped.” He said again with a wag of his finger to her, his statement shockingly more playful than the other times. 

Once the door shut he went back to the SUV and headed for home.

17 minutes later the door opened to the bar and in walked in Serge looking, very different from the suit get-up walked in. This time Serge was dressed in a long sleeved dark blue high neck shirt, dark blue tighter jeans, a brown bet with brown shoes. Over his shoulders was a black leather jacket that made him look like he had walked off of a Ralph Lauren fashion show which was very out of place for the bar. With a bag over his shoulder he walked in like he owned the place as the sun went down and he found the table in the corner awaiting him. Sitting down with the grace of a higher classed individual, he placed his bag next to him and opened it. 

Reaching inside he pulled out a thick book titled “Tale of Two Cities” by Charles Dickens and a glasses case. Popping it open, he pulled out a pair of rectangle shaped glasses with a black frame and slid them on his square face; than he opened the book to the bookmark and began to read, and of course, wait for service.