The Driver
(Click here to read Part 1 of the Driver)
(Click here to read Part 2 of the Driver)
(Click here to read Part 3 of the Driver)
“I’d need you to stop working as an escort,” he said.
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. She opened her mouth to say something but she was overcome with laughter.
“What?”
“I misled you,” she said. Arching a shaped eyebrow, she continued, “My mother was an escort. She wanted sexual freedom. You know breaking out of the whole good Catholic girl thing. I’m a doctor. A urologist.”
Vince nodded.
“I’m a little surprised my father didn’t tell you.”
“You’re in the company of men because you’re a urologist?”
Her eyes danced with merriment. She moved her fingers in front of her body.
“I spend my days with men’s genitals in my hands.”
“And you’d make more money if you didn’t spend Saturdays with your father?”
“It’s a big call night,” she said. “You’d be surprised how many weekend warriors injure themselves on Saturdays. Would you start a relationship with me if I was an escort?”
“Absolutely,” he said.
He fell silent, his mood shifting with her question. He opened his mouth, then shook his head.
“Are you offended? Because you deserved that.”
“You’re right. I do. And the name?”
She laughed.
“Sorry Grandma, but Lily is a whorish name. I figured it fit what you thought of me.”
“So you’re still….”
“Emily Lamberton, MD. Nice to meet you.”
In an effort to seal her humiliation of him, she held her hand out for him to shake.
“I think of you as Emmy.”
Her hand recoiled as if she had touched fire. The sound of his voice saying that name sent waves of warmth and terror through her. When she looked up at him, he was watching the mountains. Feeling her eyes, he turned to look at her.
“You’re mad.”
“I’m not. You planned this all along.”
“Six months watching the back of your head. Yes, I wanted to make certain you got just what you deserved.”
His head went up and down in a curt nod.
“What?”
“I remember going down,” Vince started. He let out a breath. “I remember going underwater, but that’s about it. I was mostly dead when they pulled me out. I don’t know why I survived. I just knew that I had to try to work things out with you. Escort? Doctor? Cannibal Chef? Lily? Emmy? Whatever. I had to try. I just wonder if there was ever a chance.”
Emmy squinted her eyes at him. She expected her plan to make her feel triumphant and superior. Hearing his simple and sincere words, she felt small and sad.
“I guess that sounds stupid.”
“What were your injuries?” she said.
She wanted to sound cynical and cold. When he flushed, she realized her words echoed with concern and caring. She cursed her lack of control.
“I don’t think anyone’s asked me that. Thanks.”
Standing he unbuttoned the top button of his pants then lifted his dress shirt.
“Oh my God,” she said. She didn’t bother to keep the horror from her voice.
“I was basically cut in two.” He pointed to the scars on his abdomen and back. “They fused my spine. That’s what gives me the most trouble now. I have a couple deep scars on my shoulder but basically I’m all right above and below the tear.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she said.
“Let me prove myself to you. Give me a chance to do what you asked.”
“You don’t even know me,” she said.
“I used to. I’d like to know you again,” he said.
Her silence ate at him. He watched fear, longing, and terrible hurt move across her face.
“Listen, I’ve pushed myself on you.” He tucked his shirt back into his pants. “If a relationship is impossible, I understand. I do. You need to make your own choice.”
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out an ancient ring box. He slid the box across the table to her. She touched the box with her fingertips then looked up at him.
“Do you remember my Nana?” He smiled when she nodded. “She sent me her wedding ring just before she died. The note said: ‘There’s only one hand this ring belongs on.’ Like my heart, this ring is yours forever.”
Vince opened the sliding glass door. Forcing his legs to move, he walked across her apartment. Broken, he didn’t notice the concierge’s smug look when he staggered out of the elevator. As if by magic, he arrived at his car.
His mind screamed what his heart refused to believe.
He had lost her.
Loving her, and never knowing if it might work, was easier than knowing he had injured her beyond repair. He cursed himself for trying. Tapping the steering wheel, he wondered what to do now that his one reason for living was gone. He was almost to the highway when his cell phone rang.
“I am aware that today is your day off,” the butler said. “However, Madam Lamberton has requested your services. Will you make an exception?”
“Yes.”
“She will meet you outside her building in a half hour. Is your vehicle clean?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.”
Driving to her building, his mind screamed that she only wanted to play games with him. But his pounding heart whispered a different story. Seeing her waiting for him at the door, he jumped from the car to open the back door of his BMW sedan. She pushed the back door closed and opened the front passenger door.
“Where to?” Vince asked turning the car on.
“I’d like you to escort me shopping.”
“Cherry Creek?” he said.
“Yes. Is this your car?”
“Yes,” he said. “For the record, I have a real job. I work two twenty-four hour shifts. Tuesdays and Wednesdays. I drive for your father on my days off.”
“Great. You can afford to buy me a few pairs of shoes,” she said.
He laughed.
They fell into an easy rhythm. But she was always the easiest person in the world to be around. And Vince was a perfect gentleman. From shop to shop, he waited, ogled her choices, paid the bill and carried the packages. Like old friends, they chatted about nothing.
Emmy noticed other women making eyes at Vince. Wondering what he would do, she left him alone for a while. She watched him receive no less than four telephone numbers. After smiling, nodding, then making certain the women were gone, he tossed the numbers in the trash.
Leaning against the dressing room wall, she tried on the idea that he was sincere.
Nodding at herself in the mirror, she knew what she wanted.
They were about a block from her building when she said, “Ok.”
“Ok?” He asked pulling into the drive.
“You can prove yourself to me,” she said. “But the physical stuff? I was just….”
“When you’re ready.”
She nodded.
“Would you like help with your packages?” He asked.
She shook her head. Now that this wasn’t a game, she was terrified.
He carried the packages to the concierge then watched her hips sway to the elevator.
Their eyes caught for a brief moment before she stepped inside.
Listing her requirements in his head, he nodded.
He was not going to blow this chance.
Six weeks later
Lost in thought, Emmy turned into the park where Amelia’s team was playing soccer.
Emmy would see Vince tonight.
Twice a week, she waited outside her building. And twice a week, he swept her off her feet. Delectable dinners gave way to lingering trips to the art museum, quiet coffee shops or anywhere they could talk. One night, they rambled through Capital Hill Used Books. Emmy smiled. She hadn’t laughed as much in… well, twelve years.
At his suggestion, they picked topics for each date. His eyes never left her face when she explained medical school last Tuesday. She surprised herself by crying when he detailed the rigors of Navy S.E.A.L training. His lips brushed her tears away.
Tucked on his lap, with his arms around her, her life made perfect sense. They kissed, cuddled, laughed and cried. But her terror of being abandoned kept them from making love.
“When you’re ready.”
Emmy beamed. She was more than ready and still very frightened.
Checking her make-up in the rear view mirror, she nodded to herself. It was time for Amelia to meet her father. Carrying her lawn chair, she fell in step with another mother.
“Have you met the new coach?” The mother asked.
“No, I didn’t realize they had a new coach,” Emmy said.
“Amelia hasn’t said anything? My daughter won’t stop talking about him. He’s a great coach. Really good with the girls. And gorgeous,” the mother laughed. “Hell, I might divorce Jake just to take that man around the block.”
Emmy smiled. Her mind was too caught up in her own dilemma to worry about a new soccer coach. Setting her chair near the midline of the soccer field, she went to find her little girl. She found Amelia standing in a circle with her teammates. The team was focused on the coach, who was kneeling to talk to them.
Standing next to Amelia’s back, Emmy rehearsed what she would say. ‘Honey, when we’re done today I’d like you to meet someone’. No. I’ll tell her when I drop her off at Papa’s house. ‘You know that guy who drives for Grandpapa?’ No. ‘How would you feel about meeting your father?’ No.
“Ok Daddy,” Amelia said.
Emmy blinked.
What?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The final segment of the Driver will be available next Friday at Miss-Britt.com
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
claudia hall christian is a novelist living in Denver, Colorado. For more stories, visit: storiesbyclaudia.com or visit her weblog at: On a Limb with Claudia
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.
The Driver
(Click here to read Part 1 of the Driver)
(Click here to read Part 2 of the Driver)
A yellow cab screeched around the corner and come to a halt in the parking lot. An ancient cab driver hopped out of the cab carrying a baseball bat.
“I’m all right, Sam. This man is nothing.”
Sam opened the passenger door to the cab. Lily stepped in.
In a moment, she was gone.
~~~~~~~~
Six hours later
When his shadow fell across the end of the pew, the child turned to look into his face. His heart stopped beating. Her eyes, so like his own, peered from her delicate and beautiful face. His heart jerked in his chest. My daughter.
“Is this seat taken?” Vince asked.
“Mom?” Amelia said to Lily.
“She likes to sit at the end,” Lily said.
“Great. I’ll sit next to her.”
Lily gave him a dark look, “You may sit over here.”
He tried to catch her attention but Lily’s eyes never left the empty pulpit. When their hips pressed together on the crowded pew, a pulse of her warmth reverberated through him. She shifted her hips away from him.
Feeling a slap at the back of his head, he turned to see his Army friend and her husband. She gave him an ‘it’s about time’ look. He wagged his eye brows then turned back to Lily. He was about to introduce them but Lily stared at the triptych.
“I’m sorry,” he said under his breath as the music started.
Lily ignored him.
Her father stood at the door when Vince returned last night. Lily called her father on the way home from City Park. Her father said that she was crying. He was furious at Vince for upsetting his daughter. Again. Unable to contain his own self rage, Vince vented at her father. After all, how could this billionaire allow his daughter to work as an escort?
They argued and accused each other. Finally, the old man poured them a drink. They drank and talked until nearly dawn. Vince dragged himself out of bed to sit next to her at mass.
The moment mass was over, Amelia ran to meet some children near the back. Vince leaned toward Lily but she bent away from him to pick up Amelia’s jacket and backpack. When Vince’s friend leaned over the pew to hug him, Lily walked into the aisle.
Her intentions were clear. Lily did not want to have anything to do with Vince.
“Go,” his Army friend said.
Scanning the crowd, Vince trotted down the aisle. She could not be far. He let out a breath when he saw her talking to a woman near the door. Moving through the crowd, he stopped just inches behind Lily.
“Oh,” the woman said. She curled her lip and looked Vince up and down. “Why don’t I call you this week?”
“Thanks Marilee,” Lily said.
Amelia ran to Lily for her jacket and backpack. Lily bent to kiss Amelia’s cheek then rubbed the lipstick off her pink cheek. Amelia hugged her mom, then ran after her best friend.
Trapped by Vince’s body, Lily whipped around to face him. But he didn’t move or notice her. He was staring at something. Following his line of sight, she bristled. His parents were making a beeline toward them. The look on his mother’s face could strip paint from metal.
“I….”
“My thoughts exactly,” Vince said under his breath.
With the slightest pressure on her elbow, he maneuvered through the crowd and away from his parents. Once on the sidewalk, he walked them toward his BMW sedan.
“I won’t be needing your services, today,” she said. “I prefer to walk.”
Vince smiled. At least she said something to him.
She gave him a scathing look then shook her elbow from his hand. With a flip of her hair, she set off on foot toward her home. He followed at her side.
“Please stop,” he said.
“No,” she said. “I’ve been hurt enough by you. I don’t really want my Sunday messed up by your bullshit.”
“I love you,” he said.
“So what?”
She walked off.
Jogging to catch up with her, he said, “Please. Ms. Lamberton. May I take you to lunch?”
She spun around to face him. She raised her hand and opened her mouth to say something. When she looked into his face, her shoulders sagged and her eyes filled with tears. Pinching the bridge of her nose with her hand, she pierced her lips then shook her head. She turned to walk again.
He caught her hand and turned her to him.
“What is it that you want?” She shook her hand from his grasp.
“I want a chance to start over.”
“Why? Why should I give you that chance?” She asked.
“Because you love me.”
“You imagine much,” she said.
Gripping her arms, he pulled her to him. Their faces were less than an inch apart.
“May I?” His lips brushed hers with the words.
She slapped his face.
Chuckling, he let her go.
“Against my better judgment, I gave you a chance last night,” she said. Her hand stabbed at the air. “’Your baby needs her Daddy.’ ‘It’s been twelve years.’ ‘What do you have to loose?’ Papa said. And what do I get?”
She jammed her index finger into his chest.
“You insult me. Twice.”
“I’m a complete jerk,” he said. “I don’t have any idea how to make up for all that I’ve done to you. I want a chance to try. That’s all. Just a chance to try to make it up to you.”
“My father told you to say that,” she said. “You’re a complete loser.”
“Your father told me I would never get a chance to hurt you again. And you’re right, I am a complete loser. I lost everything when I lost you.”
“Why would I want to waste my time with a complete loser?”
“Because you love me,” he said.
“Love?”
She made a derisive face. Turning, she stalked toward her home. He continued at her side. They walked in silence until they were standing outside her building.
“Are you working today?”
“I don’t work on Sundays. I need a day to catch up on my life. Amelia spends every other Sunday at her best friend’s house. Marilee and I trade off.”
“And today?”
“It looks like I’m stuck with you,” she said.
Clenching her teeth for a moment, she smiled a kind of grimace. Their eyes caught and she let out a breath.
“Let me take you to lunch.”
“It would be better for me to have something here,” she said. “Would you like to come up?”
“Yes,” he said working to keep the ‘yippee!’ from his voice. “I’d very much like to come up.”
“You’ll behave yourself?”
“Yes ma’am. Scouts honor.”
She opened the door. While the concierge’s eyes scanned Vince, he made pleasant conversation with Lily. When they stepped from the polished marble floors to a sparkling gold elevator, the concierge picked up a telephone.
Lily inserted a key into the elevator control panel, pressed a button and they zipped to the penthouse. He watched Lily’s reflection as she talked to herself. When the bell rang, she seemed to have come to some decision.
“The housekeeper is off on Sundays,” she said stepping off the elevator. “Want to see what she left us for lunch?”
He followed her into the kitchen. She opened a cabinet for a plate then bent into the refrigerator. His breath caught at the sight of her round hips and tight behind. Ripping his eyes away, he stuffed his hands into his pants pockets shifting the fabric way from him.
She retrieved a container labeled “Sunday lunch” from the refrigerator. Pulling the top off the container, she found a rosemary chicken and mixed green salad.
“What do you think?” She asked. “Should we just order a pizza?”
Not trusting words, he smiled.
She moved the chicken to the plate then opened a drawer for two forks. She gave him a chilled bottle of Pinot Gris.
He took the bottle. When he reached for a couple of hanging wine glasses, he glimpsed her face out of the corner of his eye. Her eyes were trained on his bulging pants. Her signal ignited him in one stiff spasm.
When she realized he was looking at her, her face shifted to neutral. She walked out of the kitchen leaving him to shift his legs to make walking possible.
“Let’s eat out on the patio.”
She opened a sliding glass door to a sunny patio with a view of the snow capped Rocky Mountains. She set the lunch down on the patio table. He pulled out a chair for her and sat next to her. In an effort to slow his racing heart, he focused his full attention on filling the glasses.
“Do you mind sharing a plate or shall I get you your own?”
“I’m happy to share anything with you,” he said.
She gave him a genuine smile. Safe in her home, she was more relaxed and confident. She was much more intimidating, as well.
“Try this,” she said.
She offered him a fork full of chicken. He opened his mouth and she placed the chicken in his mouth. This simple gesture was so reminiscent of how they used to be. He smiled.
“Every single thing is perfect,” he said.
She flushed at the implication of his compliment.
“My father owns the building. Remember the beautiful building Mom and I lived in when I was growing up? When Amelia came along, my father insisted on taking care of his granddaughter. He pays for everything. You probably know this, but I’m his only child.”
“And your mother?”
“She lives in Florida,” she said. “You’ve driven her a number of times. She calls you ‘that boy’?”
“Oh,” he said. “I didn’t recognize her.”
“She doesn’t like you much.”
“I don’t blame her.”
They ate in silence under the warm sun. Vince was at a loss for what to say or do. He was certain that if he moved too fast he would lose her. He was lucky to even be sitting here. He sighed.
How to begin again?
“I’d like to kiss you.”
“I know,” she said. She smiled and looked at him. Her pale blue eyes searched the contours of his face. “I’d like a lot more than that.”
“Like what?”
“Ok,” she said.
Squaring her shoulders, she answered his question as he challenged her to a duel.
“If you want a spot in my life, and my bed, you’ll need to get a real job. I’d like to get to know you again. No secrets. I’d like you to speak with your parents about me and Amelia, especially about Amelia. You need to be loyal to me, and only me. You must be faithful in every sense of the word. I’d like you to be a real father, not a playtime father or a weekend father, but a real father to Amelia.”
She stared at him in defiance then added in a quiet voice. “Maybe father another child.”
She clamped her lips closed as if she wished she hadn’t let that wish out.
“Anything else? Because I’d like all of that as well,” he said.
“Yes, I’m very sexual. You would have to be available to me if I want you. And, you’d have to be a much better lover than you were.”
He cleared his throat to keep from jumping her right there.
“I’d need you to stop working as an escort,” he said.
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. She opened her mouth to say something but she was overcome with laughter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Driver is a serial fiction. The story will continue next Friday at Miss-Britt.com.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
claudia hall christian is a novelist living in Denver, Colorado. For more stories, visit: storiesbyclaudia.com or visit her weblog at: On a Limb with Claudia
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.
Beginning March 8th, I will have at least one guest (and at times as many as 3) staying at my house every. single. day. for a solid month. I fear my blogging may suffer a little (as well as potentially my sanity and my sex life), so I have enlisted some help from other fabulous writers to help fill some of the gaps my packed schedule might leave.
As part of this endeavor, you get to enjoy some Friday Fiction courtesy of the lovely Claudia.
Please be sure to leave her some comment love.
—————————————————————————–
The Driver
Pulling the limousine into the diner’s parking lot, the driver smiled. The diner was quiet. Through the windows, he saw a few drunken teenagers and a couple of cops. Perfect.
“Will this do, Ms. Lamberton?”
“Yes, Vince. Thank you. Please. Come in with me.”
“Of course.”
Every Saturday night for more than a decade, his boss purchased her overnight companion services. When Vince took this job, the butler informed him that he would need to be available to take her home around two in the morning. Standing at the door, the driver watched as the old man gave her a wad of cash, kissed her cheek and walked her to the door.
The old man was slowing down. And tonight, Vince reaped the benefits.
“Stay with her, Vince. Make sure she gets home safely,” the old man said.
For the last six months, he drove her home to her penthouse apartment near the Colorado state capital. He watched her hips sway until she was safely in the elevator. He’d return to his room in his boss’s estate with that image burned into his brain.
But, tonight was different.
Tonight, she was hungry.
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