Chapter 9 - Car Shopping

As Pierre led Brandon through the showroom, a ripple of whispers spread among the supermodel salespeople. They huddled together, eyes fixed on the newcomer.

The blonde in the crimson dress leaned in, her voice a conspiratorial whisper.

"Who's the silver-haired hottie with Pierre? I've never seen the boss fawn over anyone like that."

"No idea, but look at how Pierre's treating him," another replied, adjusting her hair.

"Pierre never escorts anyone personally, not even CEOs or celebrities."

A brunette leaned in, her voice hushed.

"He must be someone important. Look at him! He's sooo hot"

"Did you see his eyes?" the redhead chimed in, unbuttoning the top of her blouse. "I think I'm in love."

The blonde nodded, subtly adjusting her bust.

Brandon glided between the gleaming vehicles, his casual grace a stark contrast to the calculated poise of the showroom. Every head turned, drawn by an aura of effortless charisma that seemed to bend the very air around him.

As he approached, the models gave each other final once-overs, ensuring every hair was in place and their most alluring smiles were at the ready.

Pierre grumbled jokingly as they walked through the showroom.

"Unbelievable. You've been back for five minutes, and already you're leaving a trail of swooning women in your wake."

Brandon chuckled, his eyes drawn to a sleek convertible Bentley. He sauntered towards it, admiring its elegant lines.

"Ah, still got that old-man taste, I see,"

Pierre teased, his voice tinged with approval. He rushed over, excitement bubbling in his tone.

"This is the new Bentley Continental GT Convertible Speed. Beauty goes from 0 to 60 in just 3.2 seconds, with a top speed of 177 mph!"

As Pierre rattled off the specs, Brandon opened the car door and slid into the driver's seat. He ran his hands over the plush leather, basking in the luxury that surrounded him.

'Strange, why are the car brands the same? perhaps there are more similarities between this and my world than I assumed…'

Brandon ran his hand along the sleek curves of the Bentley, a small smile playing on his lips.

"You know, Pierre," he said, his voice tinged with amusement,

"I'm not really a car guy. But I do appreciate... quality."

His eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief.

"Comfort and style, that's what matters."

Brandon casually pulled out a black card and passed it to Pierre.

"I want the interior to be beige. Have it wrapped in a matte dark brown. And accent it with brushed rose gold where you see fit, will ya?"

Pierre's eyes widened.

"Oh-ho! No wonder you're not even asking the price. Young Master Blackstone got his NOA care package, huh?"

Brandon looked at him, confusion evident on his face.

Pierre rolled his eyes.

"Everyone who's anyone knows about the Blackstone 100 mill tradition."

Pierre leaned closer to Brandon, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"Ey, take your pick."

Brandon's brow furrowed.

"Huh?"

A sly grin spread across Pierre's face, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Well, the car fully spec-ed out is 350k. And I don't intend to short-change a lucky salesgirl of mine out of her commission."

He gestured towards the group of supermodels hovering nearby.

"So, why don't you pick one you like?"

Pierre blinked exaggeratedly, his smile widening in a way that left little doubt about his lecherous implications.

Brandon's eyes darted between Pierre and the models, realization dawning on his face.

He opened his mouth to respond, but hesitated, clearly caught off guard by the unexpected offer.

'So is this how the super rich play?'

Pierre caught Brandon's eye and gave a subtle nod towards the group of models.

With a flick of his wrist, he beckoned them over.

The models advanced like a pride of lionesses, all feline grace and predatory intent. Brandon felt his pulse quicken, a mix of excitement and an unexpected flutter of nerves.

'Get it together,' he chided himself.

A statuesque blonde reached the car first, leaning into the open driver's side window. Her perfume wafted over Brandon, a heady mix of jasmine and vanilla.

"I'm Chloe," she purred, her voice low and sultry.

"Can I show you about the... special features of this model?"

She leaned in even closer toward Brandon's ear and licked the tip of his earlobe before seductively whispering,

"I'm not talking about the car~"

Before Brandon could respond, a brunette appeared on his other side, her manicured hand trailing along the car's sleek exterior.

"I'm Sophia," she said, her accent exotic and alluring.

"Perhaps you'd like a... private tour of our VIP lounge?"

A redhead materialized behind him, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders.

"Or maybe you'd prefer a test drive?" she whispered, her breath hot against his ear.

Pierre watched from a few feet away, a smug grin plastered across his face.

He gave Brandon a thumbs up, clearly enjoying his friend's predicament.

The blonde, Chloe, leaned in closer, her lips nearly brushing Brandon's cheek.

"You know, we have a very... hands-on approach to customer service here."

Sophia nodded in agreement, her fingers now tracing patterns on Brandon's arm.

"We believe in going above and beyond for our VIP clients."

The redhead's hands began to massage Brandon's shoulders.

"And you, Mr. Blackstone, are definitely VIP material."

GULP

Brandon swallowed hard.

His mind raced, caught between the allure of the moment and a strange, lingering hesitation

The women's advances grew bolder, their touches more daring, their whispers more suggestive.

"Hahaha!"

Pierre burst into laughter, his chuckles echoing through the showroom. He waved his hand dismissively at the models.

"Ladies, ladies, give the man some breathing room. We've got a yacht to catch soon, so there's no time for pleasure. But be on standby, Young Master Blackstone here will summon you when he has the time"

The women pouted but obediently stepped back, their eyes still fixed on Brandon as they stepped backwards.

Pierre hopped into the passenger seat, a mischievous grin plastered across his face.

He turned to Brandon, eyebrows raised.

"Well, well, well. You seemed more confident than I remember, but still a bit of a scaredy-cat when it comes to the ladies, huh?"

Brandon cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.

"I wasn't scared. Just... caught off guard."

"Yeaaaaa... ," Pierre chuckled, clearly unconvinced.

As the models retreated, Brandon's brow furrowed in contemplation.

'What's happening to me?' he mused, a mix of frustration and curiosity bubbling up. 'Is this body's timidity seeping into my psyche? Or is it something else... some remnant of the old Brandon?'"

He shook his head slightly, determination setting in.

'No, I needa brush this off my shoulders asap.'

He's now Brandon Blackstone, and Brandon Blackstone didn't shy away from anything – especially not beautiful women.

'Heh... I'm sure the yacht would be the perfect opportunity!'