6

"So?" John watched Jack stalk about his apartment like a caged animal.

"Well OK, it was a nice car, an Austin Martin like a James Bond thing … Jesus wept. I was scared to touch the bloody door handle for fear of marking it and I shit you not, she ran around rubbing it down once I got in."

"Woman likes cars, nice to see a woman having pride in her wheels" John said calmly as Jack turned to face him.

"John, come on. Can you imagine me with someone so stuck up that they love their vehicle? Give it a fucking name like a pet?" Jack snorted.

John grimaced.

He was never getting laid was he.

.

.

.

.

She was gorgeous, like movie screen temptress sort of gorgeous and Jack thought he was finally onto a winner. God, they must look sensational walking together and he glanced at the full-length mirror of the elevator to find she was doing the same thing, her elegant gown dropping off the shoulder to expose the soft white skin and her figure was flawless.

God, he was drooling.

He had also been pleased to find one that wanted to be met at her apartment door, not scared to show him where she lived and as she had slipped out the door he had caught a cat's face smooshed as it glared up at her in distain.

"Nice pussy"

Her laughter boomed in the small space as she swung to look at him, her high cheekbones giving off shadow that was photo worthy. Finally Jack felt like John had come through for him like a good friend should.

The elevator doors opened and she began to walk with confidence away from his vehicle as he hesitated then followed her as she called over her shoulder "You don't mind if I drive do you, lover?"

He found her in front of a low riding car that looked familiar, his mind trying to place where he has seen a silver bullet like this before then he blurted "James Bond."

She laughed again, her perfect throat exposed as he sighed happily, shit she was gorgeous. He reached for the door handle and she made a noise to stop him, then to his surprise she removed gloves from her little clutch and pulled them on before she touched the door, "Careful lover, watch those big paws of yours on poor wee Sheila."

"Sheila?"

"Yes, Silver Sheila" she said as she folded into the car and then reached down to hook off her shoes before she slid her long Lucious legs in… yeah Jack may have let his eyes and mind wander a bit but crashed back as she said "Don't forget your boots off. She has carpet."

He almost asked what sort of car didn't but instead he walked around and went to open his door only to have it fly open as she leaned across the seat, her breast squished into the soft leather as she grinned up at him then sat back as he now gingerly got in.

"It's new?" he asked looking ar the immaculate dash, the unmarked buttons and the protective plastic still over the front of the radio.

"About three years old now" she replied as she turned the key and then made a noise of glee, "perfect isn't she? Sheila is my pride and joy. Better than a child, she will never disappoint me."

She purred along as Jack blinked and tried to work out what she had just said looking over at her, "You have kids?"

"Had. Two. Horrible shits that preferred their father in the divorce. Gone. I prefer to tell people I don't have any. He can have them, fat little shits. They were never allowed in here of course. The nanny had a shitty people mover for them. God, horrible things, people movers mind you the kids were not exactly nice. Fat and needy. Should have traded them years ago." She was shouting over the wind as she sped along and Jack stared at her with horror as he took in the fact her baggage would probably need that people mover. Jesus.

He settled back with his hands clasped in his lap and looked around at the vehicle with its immaculate interior, the perfect paintjob gleaming with the street lights and her constant droning about how horrible her ex was, how fat and ugly the kids he had given her were and how happy she was now she was free to make her own choices.

"Yeah, it's all about choice" Jack agreed as they stopped at lights and he fumbled for the door handle, not caring how much he was smudging the chrome handles, "I choose to get out here. Goodnight Sheila… I mean Darla."

He was soon in the throng of party goers heading between pubs and he started to laugh as the absurdity of it all.

Imagine, someone so attached to a bloody car that they gave it a name, treated it special. And she had kids. God, way too much for him to take on.

Nope.

Not going there!