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“I’m Mr. Mercer’s driver, Tobias. Mr. Mercer asked me to wait for you and offer you a ride home.” The man shrugs, offering me a warm smile. “Said he felt like walking home and possibly helping an elderly lady along the way.”
I roll my eyes. That man is impossible. My first instinct is to refuse, but I am bushed and my legs are as tired as my brain.
Plus, what’s the harm in accepting? MGM won’t be in the car with me.
I nod to the driver and let him open the car door for me.
MGM might not be in the car, but his scent lingers behind, trapped in the high-end fabric of the seats. His cologne. It smells expensive, seductive, dangerous. Exactly what I’d expect a handsome, powerful, billionaire to smell like.
“Where to, miss?” the driver asks from the front seat.
In a lightning moment of clarity, I predict this to be a plot for MGM to learn where I live, so I give the driver the generic crossroads.
He drops me off at the corner of Broadway and Houston ten minutes later—the same time it would’ve taken me to walk home. I thank him and wait for the black SUV to disappear into the night before I head to my building.
I don’t wear makeup during the day, it’d just melt off in my first morning class, but I still scrub my face clean the second I get home, no matter that I’ve already showered at the office. Hair up in a messy top knot, I take my time applying moisturizer in front of the bathroom mirror.
What is it you like so much, Gabriel?
I shake my head at my own rhetorical question. It’s probably just the novelty of not having a woman fall flat at his feet with gratitude for having spared her a second glance. Must be the thrill of the chase. And once I give in, he’ll get bored in no time.
I clear a smudge of moisturizer from my forehead and free my hair from the top knot ready for bed.
I’ve just snuggled under the covers when a text arrives.
From Gabriel
I’ll have you know I didn’t assist any elderly citizen on my way home
I shouldn’t text back, but the perfect, witty reply just popped into my head.
To Gabriel
I need more. Did you at least litter a little along the way?
Help kill the planet a bit?
From Gabriel
Sorry, no littering to report either
The next text MGM sends is a string of unintelligible characters.
From Gabriel
Wbavsyxgwvabx
To Gabriel
??
From Gabriel
My cat butt texted you
He’s sitting on my chest, competing for attention with the phone
Of course he has a cat.
