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He smiled at me.
With the tour over, we congregated in his office and a few minutes later, his son arrived. Carter introduced him as Dillon, sixteen, high school student at one of the local schools.
I thought he’d be going to one of the private schools in the area, but no—Dillon Finch was going to a public school like regular children.
Impressive.
After he excused himself, we went through the vehicle I would be driving, and I was given a copy of his school’s schedule including any after school programs and the like.
“Now, he has a best friend—Eli.” Carter explained. “Sometimes, after school they go to the mall or whatever teenagers do. Right now, he has his learner’s permit, but I’ll find a way to get him to drive on the weekends so no need to worry about that. For now, the only other person in the vehicle with him is Eli. He knows this—once we get through this hurdle, he can start having more friends included.”
I nodded.
* * *
After collectingwhat I needed for Carter’s car that I would be using, I showed up early on my first day to move the car from the garage to the front yard. I checked it over—behind the seats, under them, underneath the car, inside the trunk, the engine—I wanted to make sure it was safe.
When I was finished, I sat on the hood and checked the time.
Dillon was late coming out of the house.
When he finally did, he stood at the door as I slid off the hood and walked around to the driver’s side.
“You’re not going to open my door?” He demanded.
“Something wrong with your hand?”
I opened mine and slid into the leather seat.
“Then we’ll just sit here.”
I shrugged.
“That’s funny.” I told him. “Because I have no place to be today. You know the consequences if you arrive at school late.”
I played a game on my phone.
It was a good twenty minutes before he realized that I wasn’t about to open his door for him before he climbed in and slammed the door closed.
True to form, we arrived at his school late.
The next day was no better.
This time he wanted to go against Carter’s instructions of only having Eli in the vehicle. When he gave me an attitude because I wouldn’t chauffer his friends around, I sent Carter a messagedemandingwe had a meeting that evening or I’m walking away.
“What’s this about—” Carter started.
“No.” I waved a finger at him. “You don’t get to talk. And neither do you. I’m going to do the talking and both of you will listen. Am I clear?”
Both father and son nodded.
“Now, let’s get one thing clear.” I swirled to glare at Dillon. “You may not like that I’m here, but youwillrespect me. I don’t work for you and I’m not your slave. You open your own doors and be where you need to be for me to do my job andon timeand without the attitude. My job is to keep your safe, not to chauffer your friends and kiss your ass. If these terms aren’t acceptable for you, tell me now so I don’t waste my time. Otherwise, your father will have to hire someone else to protect you from me.”
The shock in his eyes had him leaning backward into the cushion of the sofa he sat in.
But I didn’t care.
I wasn’t about to be disrespected by a fetus.
