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V I V I E N N E

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V I V I E N N E

Dominic owned a luxury car.

She wasn't even surprised at this point. All the boys had done well for themselves through the years, something she wished she could accomplish herself. But if someone were to ask her what kind of car it was, her brain would be cluelessly blank.

It looked expensive, with its shiny black exterior, low ceiling, and sleek figure. And she was well aware of that price tag as she moved to sit in it with careful consideration of where she put her hands and feet. Her bum even felt wrong sitting on the seemingly new seats with red detailing.

"You okay?" He asked her in amusement, leaning back comfortably in his seat.

"I feel like I'm dirtying up your car with my student debt bacteria," Vivienne muttered.

Dom coughed out a laugh and quickly covered it up at her small glare. "You're overthinking it, princess. Just lean back and relax. It'll take a good thirty minutes to drive and find a spot to park in the afternoon rush of things. Don't want you to stretch a muscle while avoiding touching anything."

"I'm trying to be considerate." She miffed but did as he said, leaning back into the comfortable seat and stretching out her boot-covered legs.

"Appreciate it, but it's a car for a reason. I bought it for driving, not only showing off." Dom grinned.

She raised an eyebrow. "But the showing off helps, I imagine."

"You'll be surprised how many luxury cars you find in the middle of Chicago these days. I won't even stand out compared to some of those attention-seeking bastards."

The car was smooth as he pulled out the main road from their street and towards the center. A playlist from his phone played a song she recognized with a slow and sensual beat that made her fingers twitch.

"Finley told me your restaurant is doing great - I'm happy for you."

There was a genuine smile on his face. "Thanks, yeah, it surprised me as well. But as long as the customers love it, so do I."

Dominic graduated college with a degree in finance, and despite having loads of opportunities in the job market, he decided to start his own business - a somewhat luxurious diner slash jazz bar in the evening smack in the middle of Lincoln Park and Lakeview. She had seen the shop's Instagram page and admired the dark grey interior, with splashes of rustic decorations and velvet pillows on the chairs.

It was a bit pricey on her part, but with what they were selling she wasn't surprised by it. He had hired baristas with years of experience as well as bartenders for the evenings who could whip out a drink by a simple request on a certain taste or look. He was at work four out of seven days, according to Finley - and his employees loved him, which was a first when it came to bosses.

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