The Billionaire and His Driver

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

She stood at the back passenger door of his Mercedes as he came out of the house. What was remarkable to Brina was how happy she felt when she saw him. And it all came flooding back: How she liked being around him. How she felt that odd sense of safety when he placed his arms around her on that couch. And the fact that he knew her before, and her criminal background, and yet still held her and comforted her when she was crying, meant a lot to her. They were all business afterwards, and she was upset with herself for behaving so unprofessionally in front of the big boss, but she still appreciated his kindness.

But when he made it to his Mercedes’ open door, he unbuttoned his suitcoat and got inside without so much as glancing her way. Not even a hello after requesting her service? That was a little surprising to her. She expected at least a cordial hello. But she got nothing. Which sobered her to any fantasy she could ever harbor for the man, and to Mrs. Dash very direct warning. She closed the door, hurried around, and hopped onto the driver’s seat.

Fortunately, Elvira had given her the directions to the dinner party, and she had already programmed the address into the car’s navigation. She didn’t have to ask him anything. She drove off.

The only person speaking during the entire drive was the navigator. That didn’t stop Brina from constantly taking peeps at Ronny. He seemed to be in a foul mood. She wondered why, or what might have happened, but she dared not ask him. To see him like that only reminded her of what she’d heard about him when she first was employed. He was not a nice man, was what everybody said about him. Although, she also had to admit, he had been nice to her. Which only confused the picture more than it clarified it for Brina. She stopped taking peeps at her boss and just did her job.

It was another mansion in Windale. Not nearly as grand and opulent as Mr. Bradshaw’s mansion, she noticed, but still massive. Other limos and luxury cars were parked around the horseshoe driveway, but the valet directed Ronny’s Mercedes to what appeared to be a space reserved for him at the very front of the main house.

Brina attempted to hop out and open the door for her boss, but the valet beat her to it. She went around to the passenger side of the car anyway, but Ronny had already gotten out, buttoned his suit coat, and was making his way up the stairs where others were entering.

“Ronny darling!”

Brina heard the loud female’s voice and turned just as Ronny stopped and turned in that direction too. A beautiful woman was hurrying up the steps to greet him.

“I was certain you wouldn’t show up,” the woman was saying happily as she walked up to him. They hugged and kissed on either cheek, as she continued talking, and then they turned to walk into the dinner party. Only Ronny glanced back at Brina as he was escorting the woman in. His heart dropped when he looked into her eyes as she stood at the car, and he could see that sadness still there, and then she looked away from him.

For the last three months, after their encounter on that couch, he’d been thinking about her endlessly. Even dreaming about her. And it angered him as much as it soothed him because he couldn’t understand what was the secret sauce she had over him. Why she, of all people, kept his heart in such a conflicted sense of obligation and responsibility to her when he wasn’t obligated nor responsible for her in any way, shape, or form. But it was how he felt. And he couldn’t change that feeling no matter how hard he tried. Even during their brief encounter at that chicken joint, he felt that way. It was irrational then. It was irrational now. He went on into the house with his female companion, and the butler closed them in.

Brina got back into the car and leaned her head back. She felt foolish even thinking that he was nice to her. What did that really mean anyway? He had a waiter bring her breakfast once, and he held her when she was sobbing like some out-of-control child once? She now believed he only showed those two kindnesses to her because of that biscuit she shared with him when she thought he was struggling too. When even then she had it all wrong and he was no homeless vagrant. He was a billionaire! She smiled at herself. She had to be the worse judge of character in the world. Just like when she thought Jeremy, the man she had once wanted to marry, would stand by her side. But he dumped her the same day she was arrested.

She leaned back, slouched down with her arms folded, and prepared to sit it out for the long haul.

But less than thirty minutes later, Ronny was coming out of the house. Brina had dozed off and didn’t even realize he had come out of the house until she heard a knock on the back passenger window. She jumped and looked back. When she saw that it was the boss, she nearly leaped out of her skin as she unlocked the doors and hurried out of the car to open the door for him. But once again, the valet beat her to it and she was left just standing outside of her own open door as the boss got inside. She got in, too, and closed the door behind her.

She looked at him through the rearview. He looked even more dour. “Where to, sir?”

“Home.”

But as Brina drove away from the dinner party, Ronny was now staring at her. He couldn’t even enjoy a party with friends he usually enjoyed quite a bit. The idea of her sitting in this car waiting on him didn’t seem right to him, and it affected his mood. A mood that got even darker as the minutes ticked by. So much so that more than a few people asked if he was okay. So much so that he said his goodbyes to the host, feigning a headache, and left almost as soon as he had arrived. All because of this woman he kept staring at. All because of Sabrina Hawkins. Why, why, why? He just couldn’t figure out why!

His attraction to any woman had never been more than a layer deep. It was physical attraction period. But with Sabrina, it seemed to be many layers deep. The physical component was a part of it, but it was nowhere near the main part. There was a powerful emotional connection going on: something he couldn’t understand because he’d never felt it before. Like inside the party. He was worried about her sitting out here alone. He was worried about his driver! He at first wanted to rationalize it and say it was the biscuit. But he knew better than that. That breakfast would make up for that biscuit ten times over. Worrying about her when he should have been enjoying a party had nothing to do with their first encounter.

But because he was so oddly attuned to her, he realized something else. Did she have a way to get home? “What kind of car do you drive?” he asked her.

Brina found that a strange question to ask. She glanced at him through the rearview. “I don’t have a car.”

“But don’t you live in Eugene?”

“Yes sir.”

“Why that’s an hour away. How do you get to work?”

“The Manor van.”

“What Manor van?” Then he realized it was apparently the van that he occasionally saw bringing in his housekeeping staff every day. “Is it available to take you home tonight?”

Of course not! Didn’t he care to know anything about the inner workings of his household at all? “No sir.”

Ronny’s jaw tightened. He was about to leave her to do what? Catch an Uber home when she couldn’t even afford cheap perfume? “Drive yourself home,” he ordered. “Then I’ll drive myself home.”

“But Mrs. D. said you don’t like to drive.”

“I don’t.”

Then why would you do it tonight , she wanted to ask him. But she didn’t ask him a thing. It was a gift horse whose mouth she wasn’t about to look into. “Yes sir,” she said, and did as she was ordered.