As we walked into the house I was pleasantly surprised. You could tell it was a man’s house but it was very well put together.  It definitely wasn’t a shed. It had a rustic feel with wood and leather everywhere. He sat me on his couch in front of what looked like a movie screen instead of a tv. It was on some sort of conveyor where it could slide from one side of the large wall to the other. I had only seen something like that before on HGTV. As I sat in awe, he came back into the living room with a bottle of water handing me a tank top and some boxers.

“The bathroom is the first door on the left. I thought you might want to get cleaned up a little bit.”

I looked down at my blazer and could see where blood has dripped on it.

“Thank you…” It was at this moment I realized that I didn’t even know his name.

“Damien. Damn Ma, do you make a habit of getting in cars with men without even knowing their name?” he chuckled and his beautiful eyes glistened.

“Well do you have a habit of bringing women to your house without even knowing their name?” I huffed grabbing the clothes.

“Never that. Antoinette Cherie Jones of 12807 Tucker Street . Oh and your license is about to expire, you might want to get that taken care of. Now hurry up, towels and all that are under the sink.”

Before I could think of anything slick to say, he turned and walked off answering his ringing phone.