Bad Park Day

Emerson smiled softly, sitting on the bench in the park at noon. Sipping on her Starbucks, she felt content. Well, almost.

She bent over, pushing her long, blonde hair over her left shoulder, opening up her huge Louis Vuitton tote bag and shuffling through it. Ah, there it is. She pulled out her pack of American Spirit cigarettes and her Cartier lighter and gently began hitting the end of the back against the palm of her left hand as she scanned the crowd that had assembled.

Damn, those joggers are fine, she thought to herself quietly as she put up a cigarette to her pursed lips and lit the tip, inhaling the smoke deeply into her lungs.

"Excuse me? Are you Emerson Hudgens?"

Emerson jumped in her seat, startled by the voice that came from behind her. She spun around in her seat, seeing a man in his early 30s.

The sunlight sparkled in his dark hair, his blue eyes dancing as he smiled broadly at her. His Armani sunglasses were perched on top of his head, matching the casualness of his attire, which consisted of some loose fitting Khakis and a clean white dress-shirt under a navy blazer. She bit her lip playfully, lifting up her Chanel shades, locking eyes with him, while holding her burning cigarette in her manicured hand.

"Yes, that's me. Can I help you?"

He stepped forward, about 5 feet away from her.

Emerson's heart raced. She hadn't felt this way when meeting a stranger for years. She was a mix of emotions, two-fourths anxious, one-third turned on, and one-third scared to death. He smiled back at her, seemingly penetrating her soul.

"Well, I usually don't do this, but since I have a long lunch-break today and I recognized you from the Post from last week..."

Emerson smiled softly, bemused that someone would recognize her. She had been featured in the city's biggest news paper last week, a spot on her successful interior decorating firm. At 25, not only was she the youngest person in the United States, if not the world, to be CEO of an interior decoration firm with a staff of 145, but she was also known as one of the richest women in the city, having a net worth of over $40 million dollars, thanks to hard work and a little bit of luck. That "guest designer" spot at Target didn't hurt either.

"That's so sweet," Emerson answered, gently tossing her cigarette to the ground and stomping it with her Louboutin heel.

"Well, I hate to be blunt, but I got to get to the point -- I don't usually do this, but..."

"But what?" Emerson giggled playfully.

"But consider yourself served."

Emerson's mouth dropped open as he passed a folder to her. Her mind went blank. What the hell is going on here?

Emerson's choked as she tried to answer, "You've got to be kidding me."

"Nope," he said, spinning around and walking quickly to a car that Emerson had just noticed had been there the whole time with its engine running.