Chapter 6
Drive
“I apologize,” Victoria said. It was stupid to lose a job because she couldn’t get over the discomfort of having her employer buy her clothes. “I will do as you ask, of course.”
“I wasn’t asking.”
“Uh, no. Of course not. Sorry.”
Sebastian sighed impatiently. “You don’t have to like me, Ms. Slade —”
“I didn’t say —”
“But if you deliver results, I might be able to tolerate your presence in my home.”
“That’s... good. I guess.” She smiled wryly. “Is there anything else?”
“Mrs. Sellers said you were on time today, which is a promising start,” he said. “But I’d like you to tell me what you think of Benson.”
“Benson is wonderful,” she said, grateful for the change of subject. “He’s bright and has a lot of focus. And he seems to be open to new ideas and experiences.” She wanted to gush about the boy. She wanted to tell him, “He’s adorable and the kind of student most teachers probably dream about,” but at this point, it may only seem like she was just trying to get on his good side.
“And just what kind of ideas and experiences did you have in mind?”
She paused, thinking. “He should widen his horizons a bit. He reads a lot, but most of the books he reads are classics written by dead white men. Not that there’s anything wrong with Dickens and Twain, but I’d like him to try reading some L.M. Montgomery and Yoshiko Uchida as well. And from what we’ve talked about, I think he’d really enjoy Jacqueline Woodson’s books.”
Sebastian nodded. “I’ll leave that to you, then. I suppose that will be all for now.” He stood up. “Will you be able to get home all right?”
Victoria stood up quickly. “Yes, I ...” She looked at her watch. One a.m. She missed her window. There wouldn’t be another bus until two, she would have to wait at the bus stop for an hour. She couldn’t take a cab, it wasn’t going to be cheap.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Victoria assured him.
He didn’t look convinced. “Shall I call you a cab?”
“No!” She winced when she realized how loudly she protested. “No, thank you.” She up her purse from the coffee table. “I’m sure I can find one outside.”
“It’s late,” he said. “It’s a safe neighborhood, but I’d rather you not stand outside at one a.m. waiting for a ride.”
“I’m taking the bus, actually.”
“At this time of the night?” He didn’t know much about public buses; he’d never actually had to take one.
“Oh, it’ll be fine. Good night.”
***
He caught up with her as she was halfway out the living room. “I’ll drive you out to the main road,” he said.
“What? Oh, no, that’s really not necessary.”
It made Sebastian feel guilty: the idea of her outside, waiting for a bus past midnight. She had to wait up this late for him to get home.
“I insist. The garage is this way.”
He took the Bentley. He didn’t often drive it, but it was the only convertible he owned, and he thought she might like a convertible, even if they were driving without the top down.
He wouldn’t have been able to tell if she did, however. She looked nervous, and while he was used to people getting nervous around him, he wished she would relax a little. It was hard enough trying not to stare at her eyes or her body, without her looking like she would jump out of her skin if he so much as touched her hand.
“Do you ever drive?” he asked as they settled into their seats.
“I used to. I don’t have a car anymore.”
“You may have to drive Benson to school activities sometimes. Do you think you can handle this car?” He watched her as she fastened her seatbelt. She had small hands. They looked very soft.
“This is a really expensive car, Mr. Chase. I’m not sure I trust myself to drive it.”
“You will be driving my son. Do you think it’s the car I’d be worried about?”
She looked at him. “No, I suppose you’d be more concerned about Benson.”
He maneuvered the car out of the garage and up the driveway. “Do you trust yourself to drive him?”
“Yes. I do.” She knew she would be careful, and keep him safe.
“Then trust yourself to drive the car. It’s just a car.”
She smiled. “You’re absolutely right.”
“That’s a first.”
“First what?”
“The first time you ever agreed with me on anything.”
Victoria didn’t know what to say to that. Neither of them spoke during the short drive to the bus stop.
“I don’t see any buses,” he said, searching the road.
“There’s one coming around two,” she said, and began to unfasten her seatbelt.
“That won’t be for another ...” He looked at his watch. “Forty minutes.”
“It’s fine, I can wait.”
Sebastian sighed. “Put your seatbelt back on, Ms. Slade.”
“Wait, where are we going?” she asked, puzzled, as the car moved forward. “The bus stop is right there.”
“I’m taking you home.”
“That really isn’t necessary —”
“We’re already on our way, Ms. Slade. Your seatbelt, please.”
She buckled up again. “I ... um ... live in Calista,” she said.
“34 Fenton Street. I know.”
“Do you know where all your employees live?”
“The ones I entrust with my child, yes.”
“Do you ... know whom I live with?”
“Why would I know that?”
“I’m thinking now that maybe you’d have run a background check on me.”
“Nicolette West. You went to college together.” He glanced at her. “Of course I ran a background check on you.” What he didn’t say was that he had hired her before he ran that check. Because he didn’t expect to see her that day at the coffee shop. He didn’t expect to find out why she was late to the interview.
“How much do you know?”
She didn’t sound defensive, just curious. As a man who ran a banking conglomerate, he wasn’t used to talking to people who weren’t keeping something from him — an agenda, a deal with a rival company, a desire to take his position someday.
“I know enough.”
When they stopped at a red light, he saw her look around the car appreciatively. “Do you ever drive with the top down?” she said.
He pressed a button, and the top of the convertible folded back.
The breeze felt cool and gentle as they moved forward when the traffic light turned green. They couldn’t see the stars, but the nearly full moon was beautiful and cast a picturesque glow over the horizon. Sebastian breathed deeply. He felt...young. Tonight he wasn’t an overworked CEO of a large bank, but a young man taking a beautiful woman out for a drive.
He glanced at Victoria.
Her eyes were closed, a small smile playing on her lips. Small strands of her hair were flying in the wind and whipping around her face, but she didn’t seem to mind.
“Is this better?”
She opened her eyes. She looked surprised when she saw he was staring at her. “Uh, yes,” she said, embarrassed. “But do you like it top down? I wasn’t really asking you to—”
“Do you think I ever do anything I don’t want to do?”
“I guess not. I really appreciate you driving me home, Mr. Chase,” she said.
He nodded. “I appreciate you waiting up for me,” he said, after a pause. “I had a conference call that ended late.” It was strange why he felt compelled to tell her this. There were very few people to whom he ever bothered explaining himself.
“I understand. I know you must be very busy.”
“Your time matters too. No one should have to waste their time waiting for other people.”
“Sometimes you have to,” she said, almost wistfully. “Sometimes it’s worth it.”
Sebastian looked at her in surprise.
She smiled. “I was afraid you’d fire me if I didn’t wait for you.”
“And yet you didn’t think I’d fire you if you didn’t get new clothes like I told you to.”
“I didn’t think you were that serious about it. Don’t get me wrong,” she added at his raised eyebrow. “I’m definitely going to do it. I said I would.”
She fingered the sleeve of her blouse thoughtfully. Looking at her, Sebastian felt a sudden need to kick himself. He must have made her feel terrible. No one deserved that. He knew how fortunate he was to have what he had. Being poor was not something to be desired, but no one should be made to feel like they should be ashamed of who they were.
Back at the house, when he berated her about not doing what he’d told her, he wasn’t angry about her clothes. He was furious at himself for the thoughts that ran through his mind as he watched her sleep.
He wanted to touch her face, and her hair.
Sebastian wanted to kiss her.