<br/><div class="floatleft">(http://i50.tinypic.com/2zhgtx1.jpg)</div><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_u">Natalia</span></span><br/><span class="bbc_u">Location</span>- In her car near an eatery in Downtown San Fran.<br/><span class="bbc_u">Date &amp; Time</span>- 11th March '06 1pm-ish.<br/><span class="bbc_u">Tag</span>- Pietro<br/><hr/><hr/><br/>Her phone rang and a little smile crept along her lips as Pietro's face showed up on her screen. She clicked the green button on her phone and said hello. If anyone had looked in her car, it would have seemed as if she was talking to a long lost friend from the way she was gesturing and laughing. Being Italian, she always talked with her hands. It was the way of life. She agreed to meet Pietro's at his place for lunch and hung up the phone. She slid her phone into the console of her car and then pulled out of the space, deciding that lunch with her business partner would do better than to go and buy more clothes. Besides, the thought of getting money out of him was very appealing to her.<br/><br/>She heard a honk behind her and rolling down her window, she gave the other driver the bird and sped down the street. She didn't need directions to his house since she had been there so many times. She usually liked to conduct business at a neutral place or her office but Pietro decided to do business at his house. She didn't blame him since he had a nice house. To her it seemed he flaunted money but hey, it gave him a lot more money. People with money liked other people with money. She chuckled at that thought and pulled into his driveway. It hadn't taken long since she pushed the speed limits.<br/><br/>She sauntered up to his door after turning off her car and she rapped her knuckles along the door. He had a doorbell but she preferred to knock. She waited, bracing one hand against the the trim of the door, her swanky t-shirt riding up her stomach just a bit.