You’re taking Leona

“Holy shit,” you say, as Leona pulls up to the curb. It’s been a minute since you’ve seen a car like that around.

The blonde Zeta unfurls the sports car’s butterfly doors, flashing you a wicked smile. Tonight, she’s chosen to wear a champagne colored satin maxi dress that leaves a shoulder teasingly bared. The rest of the dress hugs close to her body, accentuating her hourglass figure, before splitting at her thigh and revealing her tantalizingly long legs. Staring at her in your dress shirt and slacks, you suddenly feel mildly underdressed.

“Did daddy buy that Maserati for you?” you ask, projecting a confidence that you don’t feel inside.

“You wish,” she laughs, beckoning you into the MC20.

“It’s a heck of a sexy car,” you say, feeling like a modern day Don Juan as you slide into the car. “Look at those curves. Damn. It almost holds a candle to its driver.”

“Yeah?” She flashes you a smile, revving the engine. That’s one heck of a satisfying growl. “What if I told you that Jack bought me this car? As a loving gift to his big sister?”

You blanche. All of a sudden, the rev of that engine sounds like the cackle of that motherfucker. You thought you were getting one over Jack by going with his sister to the movies, but not like this, not in his car…

“That… makes the car substantially less sexy,” you say. You shake your head. “Shit! He really makes that much as a goddamn underwear model?”

“Uh-huh,” Leona nods, and then, watching your face fall, she cracks up. “Wow! You really fell for it! You seriously thought that Jack bought me this car?” She pets the dashboard of her car affectionately. “You know that Jack is far from the most successful model in the family, right? This bad boy is self-funded, 100%.”

“Wha… you?”

“That’s right, yours truly,” she smiles, tossing her hair back.

You sigh in relief, glad that you can go back to appreciating the car in all its beauty. And this latest news, that Leona’s done some lucrative modeling work… You’re going to have to go home and do some ‘research’ after tonight.

“Damn, you got me. You had my heart racing there for a minute,” you chuckle.

“You think that’s got your heart racing? Let me show you what it can do,” she says.

A laugh erupts from her as Leona guns the accelerator, shooting out onto the street. She races down the main street of this college town road at severely illegal speeds. The street flies by and Leona swerves around a thicket of students. They, used to crossing with impunity, suddenly scatter at the oncoming sportscar, and she narrowly avoids the lot of ‘em, the tires screeching. You stare at Leona, wide-eyed, in horror, but it’s not over. She continues to fly down the road, but when she’s met by some old geezer driving a measly 15 down a one lane street, she dips onto the wrong side of the road, facing oncoming traffic to zip past the car before barely squeezing back into her lane. A chorus of honks sound, and you find yourself gripping your seat in fear.

“Holy shit, slow down,” you gasp, and she slams on the breaks, sending you flying. Thank God for seatbelts.

“Live a little, dude, that’s what cars like these are built for,” Leona laughs, looking more alive than ever before.

“Yeah, sure, down Route 375,” you say. “Not here!”

“I got us here in one piece,” she laughs. “Stop bitching. I thought guys liked this sort of thing.”

You look over your date for the night. She is jaw-droppingly gorgeous, but you’re beginning to realize that asshole runs in the family. Leona gives you a wink and nods at the big screen, where the opening credits to the movie are just beginning to roll.

“After all, we had to get here on time,” she says.