The Waitress and the Arrogant Man

It was already dark, and Klarisse was on her way home to their mansion, a knot of anxiety tightening in her chest. She knew she needed to speak with her parents about her decision regarding the arranged marriage. Lost in thought, she spotted a car stopped at the corner ahead, with a man waving urgently as if in need of help.

“Who is that?” she mumbled to herself, curiosity piqued. Her initial instinct was to keep driving—strangers on dark roads often meant trouble. But as she approached, the man stepped into the center of the road, forcing her to come to a halt.

“Hey! Are you crazy?!” she shouted, feeling a mix of irritation and fear.

The man, wearing a cap that partially obscured his face, responded sharply, “I am not crazy, but you are. You’re ignoring someone who needs help.”

Klarisse squinted, trying to place where she might have seen him before. “Wait, do I know you?” she asked cautiously. But her curiosity got the better of her.

The man looked up, and recognition flickered across his face. A smirk played at his lips as he responded, “That should be me asking you.”

“The waitress,” he muttered, his tone revealing a hint of amusement.

Klarisse’s eyes widened in realization. “The arrogant man,” she retorted, a mix of irritation and curiosity bubbling within her. Klarisse stared back, her eyebrows furrowing.

They stared at each other for a moment, a silent standoff, each contemplating their next move. Klarisse was ready to drive away, not wanting to engage further, but the man intercepted her plan.

A tense silence hanging in the air. Klarisse contemplated making a run for it. 

“If you’re not going to help me,” he began, reaching into his pocket, “then I’ll have to insist.” The glint of something metallic in his hand caught her eye, a gun.

Klarisse’s eyes widened as she saw him pull out a gun. Panic gripped her momentarily, her heart skipping a beat  “Wait, what do you think you’re doing?” she asked, her voice wavering.

The man, unperturbed, closed the distance between them, the gun now pointed in her direction. “You are the man from my café this morning, and I was right about you—arrogant and bad,” she stated matter-of-factly.

Klarisse’s mind raced. She had to tread carefully. “Wait!” she exclaimed, hands raised in a gesture of surrender. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

The man maintained his composure, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Reluctantly, Klarisse took a deep breath and relented, “Okay fine, what do I need to do?”

The man smirked, holstering the gun back under his jacket. “I need a ride. My car’s damaged,” he explained casually.

Klarisse eyed his supposed “damaged” car skeptically—it looked shiny and new. “Are you kidding me? Your car looks perfectly fine,” she protested, but the glint of the gun reminded her of the stakes.

The man chuckled, a low sound that unnerved her. “If you’re not going to help me, I’ll find someone who will,” he warned.

Unfazed, the man clicked the gun subtly, a reminder of his leverage. Klarisse’s heart raced, her mind racing with scenarios. She reluctantly gestured for him to join her in the car, making a silent plea for him to put away the gun.

Swallowing her pride and her fear, Klarisse relented. “Okay fine, but please put away the gun first,” she requested, her voice tinged with desperation.

Accepting her terms with a nonchalant shrug, the man tucked the gun away and slid into the passenger seat beside her. Klarisse’s nerves were on edge, the silence between them tense. Klarisse couldn’t help but notice his cologne, a surprisingly pleasant fruity scent that calmed her nerves slightly.

They were just like a few distances away from his car when his car suddenly made this exploding sound.

“Oh my God!” she shouted and almost swerved the car to the other lane.

But the man was so quick to steady the steering wheel for her.

“What just had happened?” Klarisse asked. She was trembling hard that moment but the man was just calm.

“I needed to destroy it before it became a liability,” he replied cryptically.

His words sent a shiver down Klarisse’s spine. “What do you mean?” she pressed, her curiosity overcoming her fear.

The man took off his cap revealing his handsome face but she just scoffed and started to drive steadily again. She could see from her side mirror how the car was burning and exploding still. 

“Just drive.” he said.

“Where to?” she asked tentatively, hands gripping the steering wheel as they pulled back onto the road.

The man fastened his seatbelt calmly. “I have somewhere to be.”

“I’ll direct you,” he replied cryptically, his voice devoid of any urgency despite the events that had just transpired.

As they drove, Klarisse couldn’t shake the fear from her mind, especially after witnessing his car erupt in flames moments earlier.

As they drove, Klarisse’s mind raced with questions and scenarios. “What’s your name?” he suddenly asked, breaking the tense silence.

She hesitated, wary of revealing too much. “Why do you need to know my name?” she countered, eyes flicking between him and the road.

The man’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Just curious to know the name of the woman who saved my hide,” he admitted casually.

Klarisse scoffed, half-amused despite herself. “Keep your eyes on the road,” he reminded her, his tone light but commanding.

Reluctantly, Klarisse focused on driving, thankful that the road ahead was deserted and quiet. “Klarisse,” she finally answered, a hint of resignation in her voice.

The man smiled, a genuine expression that caught her off guard. “You have a perfect name for your character,” he complimented.

Skeptical of his motives, Klarisse shot back, “And what’s yours?”

“Alex,” he answered simply, “but you can call me Lex.”

Klarisse acknowledged his name with a nod. “Such a unique name for such a… villainous character,” she retorted, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a smirk, seemingly unfazed by her comment.

Klarisse was taken aback when he instructed her to stop in front of a rundown area. “Wait, you live here?” she asked, surprised by the contrast to his apparent wealth.

Alex shook his head, exiting the car swiftly. “No, just a brief stop. Thank you, Klarisse. Perhaps we’ll meet again,” he said cryptically, closing the door before she could respond.

“He really knows how to shut people down,” Klarisse muttered to herself, bewildered by the encounter as she continued her journey home.