“It’s that easy?”
I grin. “Yep.”
“So where does your driver park his car?” he asks. “Or does he take it home with him?”
“We have a garage for the limousines and town cars,” I explain. “Roger and the other drivers park their personal cars by the staff quarters on the back of the property.”
Instinctively, Dax looks over his shoulder. “Just how far back does this property go?”
I giggle. “Yeah, we own a lot of land. We passed the staff quarters on the way into the maintenance shed. There’s a service entrance down there where you can make a smooth getaway.”
“Sweet. So the garage with your father’s car isn’t near that?”
“No, his garage is closer to the main house. The service cars have one section, and the main area is for the sports cars.” When Dax’s eyes light up, I ask, “Do you want to start the tour there?”
“We won’t get caught?”
“Like I said, my dad and brother are out. Plus, Dad always chooses to travel by helicopter. I don’t even remember the last time I saw him driving. I think the cars are just trophies at this point.”
“Okay, I've gotta see.”
With his excitement sending waves of happiness through me, I lead Dax to the garage. It’s warehouse-sized with polished cement floors and crisp studio lighting.
Dax whistles, taking it all in. “Wow. There’s an insane amount of money in this room.”
We walk between the sleek and shiny cars. Dax awes at the exteriors, scrutinizes the interiors, and checks out a few of the engines.
“So which ones have you taken for a spin?” he asks, tapping fingers along the hood of a Mercedes roadster.
I blush. “None.”
“Oh, come on.” He moves over to the Dodge Viper. “Don’t you rich kids ever rebel?”
“Sometimespeer pressure gets the better of my brother, and he’ll take a car out.” My eyes wander to the Porsche 911, my favorite car. “But it’s not that rebellious. There are trackers in all of them, so we’re watched wherever we go.”
“Is that why you haven’t taken one out?”
“To be honest, I haven’t thought about it. Despite having my driver’s license, Dad told us not to drive ourselves. Plus, I’m used to having a driver on call.”
He tugs on my hand. “Come on, show me the rest of your digs.”
I lift a pointed finger. “Before we do, I need to give you something.”
I take Dax into the service car garage and over to a lockbox. I punch in a code and pull out a swipe card.
“This will open the service entrance at the back of the property. Only staff have these, and my family won’t notice if it’s used or not.”
Dax takes the swipe card. “Is it really okay that I have this?”
My heart bounces happily. “I just want you to be able to come and go without my dad screaming at you. This is the easiest option.”
Dax grins, pocketing the swipe card. “Okay, then. Thanks.”
When we enter the manor, we wander around the great room, which is stuffed with antique furniture and centuries-old artworks.
Dax’s eyes wander up the stairs. “So, where do you sleep?”
Nervousness ripples through me. “You want to see my bedroom?”
