Blanche's POV
The next evening, as I finished my shift, Zain was waiting for me again. This time he wasn't sitting in his car—he stood in the open parking lot, leaning against the hood with a cigarette between his fingers.
I spotted him from a distance and headed over, ready to slip into the backseat.
But Zain stepped in front of the rear door. "Sit up front."
I turned to face him, his features barely visible through the thick smoke. Despite the overwhelming cigarette smell, I caught a whiff of something else—another woman's perfume clinging to his clothes.
I knew that scent. It was Joanna's.
I stepped back, waving away the smoke. "Stay away from me. You smell awful."
Zain's brow creased at my words. He sniffed his collar, looking puzzled. "Doesn't it smell good? How is it awful now?"
I didn't bother responding.
To him, Joanna's scent would always be intoxicating. Why waste my energy arguing? The thought only irritated me more.
