Disclaimer: I do not own Pretty Woman or Fairy tail. Those rights belong to their creative directors.
Lucy's PoV
Buying business and selling them off in pieces really take a lot out of you.
Taking over my father's business had never been part of my plan. My father had threatened it and hung it over my head but it wasn't till his death that it really sunk in. I had wanted to run away; find true love; have my knight rescue me. You know, that 1980 romcom bullshit. But instead I'm at a party drinking champagne like its water, hoping to close a business deal, and avoiding the man I've been dating for two years.
"Lucy." Shit that's me.
"Oh hello, Dan. Did my secretary call you about accompanying me to L.A next week?" I respond curtly.
Giving me a chaste kiss on the cheek, he pulls me to the edge of the party with a twirl and smile. Then frowns down at me in exasperation once we reach the outer edges of the social scene.
"Yes, she did. I speak to your secretary more than I speak to you."
"I see."
"I have my own life too, Lucy."
"Please Dan, this is a very important week for me. I was counting on you." I responded frustratingly.
"But you never give me any notice. You just think I'm at your beck and call."
"I do not believe that you are at my beck and call."
"Well, that's the way I feel. Maybe I should just move out."
"If that's what you want. When I get back to New York, we'll discuss it."
"Now's a good a time as any."
"That's fine with me, Dan. Good-bye."
Ugh I'm done for the night. I just want to take a hot bath at my hotel. I'll just let my Lisanna my lawyer wrap things up for me here and in the meantime take her car home.
I sauntered up to the valet with the intent of asking where her car was, when I heard increasing footsteps advancing towards me.
"Lucy where are you going." Asked Lisanna.
"You got the keys to your car?"
"Why, what's wrong with the limo?"
"Look, the limo is buried back there. My driver can't get it out. Please give me the keys.
"All right, look. I don't think you should drive. You're a little excited. Don't drive my car. Look, Lucy. Are you familiar with a stick shift?"
"Uh, sure." I slurred, downright fibbing.
The valet, overhearing our very loud conversation, pulls around Lisanna's new '67 impala which I clamber into─eager to escape.
"Just be gentle with it. It's a new car." I hear her whine.
"Okay. I can do it." I said while desperately trying to figure out the controls. After pushing in the clutch and shifting into what I hoped was the correct slot, I sped off the property and onto the highway.
Tires squealing, gears grinding, and exhaust fuming, I distantly hear Lisanna cry, "Lucy! Please! I love this car. You're gonna get lost! Beverly Hills is down the hill!
Finding myself down some weird strip of mixed use zoning, I realize that l have no idea where my hotel is. Yeah, go ahead and say it I'm lost. Slowing clambering down the road I notice I've found myself in a beautiful red-light district accented with the use of crack and filtered smog. I hear this area is lovely this time of year.
Great. Just great. A poor sweet inheritor of a multi-billion dollar company, with a pleasing figure, and car she can barely drive in the middle of the ghetto. What could go wrong?
Suddenly I see a flash of electric pink in my side mirror.