The Chauffeur

Episode 9

He hasn't said a word. Not a groan or even a huff. Nothing. The awkwardness was bad before we dropped off Everly. But now that she's gone, it's even more awkward.

A million questions swirl around in my head. Did he ever visit his dad in the hospital? Why did he even take this job in the first place? These were just some of the questions I've been dying to ask him since I found out he was my new chauffeur. But every time I open my mouth to speak, I choke.

So I decided to focus on the music still coming from the radio instead. The song playing was Rihanna's "Rude Boy." Which made me chuckle because I definitely felt like Rade was being a little rude. Though there's a much deeper meaning behind the song playing.

I hummed along to the lyrics as I unlocked my phone and started playing 8 Ball Pool. I was going against some random player who had no profile picture and a name called 'user' followed by several numbers. They were at level fifteen while I was at level twenty-one.

I was the one to break. I watched the balls scatter, the solid orange ball rolling into the upper left pocket. Sliding my handle over the touch screen, I aimed the pool cue at the solid red ball. Making sure it was positioned exactly where I wanted, I c****d the cue back and watched the ball take flight.

It rolled straight into the lower right pocket, the white ball bouncing off the wall and crashing into some of the other balls before coming to a still.

After about five minutes, I defeated my opponent. I accepted my win of five hundred gold coins and exited out of the game just as the local grocery store I often shop from came into view.

It was time to restock the pantry and fridge. And when I get home, I have some cleaning to do. The tires on Everly's bike have been flat for some time now. I've been meaning to get to that.

Opening up my little brown crossbody purse, I dropped my phone inside before hooking it closed and slinging the strap over my shoulder.

The vehicle eventually came to a halt, Rade having found a parking spot. It was only a few feet away from the entrance. My seat belt was removed, and I reached for the door handle.

I didn't wait for Rade as I opened up the door. My legs hung outside the open door. I was getting ready to stand up when Rade appeared. He didn't say a word as he bent down to gently maneuver me back around, so my legs were back in the car, and I was facing forward again.

My face was flushed, my skin burning through my jeans from when he grabbed my leg. "What are you-"

The door was slammed shut in my face. My mouth fell open in shock, realization beginning to dawn on me when the door was opened up again.

He offered me a hand.

I didn't take it. I didn't like that he had slammed the door in my face when I was in the middle of talking.

Frowning, I exited the vehicle and looked up at him. I had my right hand on my hip, while my other jabbed a finger in his hard chest. His very hard chest. My goodness.

"Who the hell do you think you are? You don't f*****g slam a door in my face. If you wanted to open the door for me, you could have simply said so."

We had sat in silence for the entire ride over here, and I couldn't take it anymore. Things were better when Harvey was here. Less awkward.

His gray eyes sparkled in amusement as he stared down at me. I caught the way his lips lift slightly, threatening a smirk.

None of this was funny. For a Chauffeur, he sure had shitty manners. I growled in annoyance, knowing he wasn't going to reply.

Pivoting, I walked away from him. There was no point in trying to argue. It would be like arguing at a damn wall.

I headed inside, grabbing myself a black shopping cart. I mentally wrote down a shopping list and knew where I needed to go first.

I stopped in the dairy aisle, eyeing all the yogurt options. When I saw the strawberry yogurt I liked, I grabbed that and placed it into the cart. I made sure to grab a pack of sliced cheese and a carton of milk before making my way to the aisle with all the seasonings.

I love my spices. Sam, not so much. He always complains that his chest burns whenever he eats what I've cooked, so I started leaving out all the spice. Which is probably why Everly loves Andi's cooking over mine so much. She uses spices and a lot of it.

I eyed the Cajun seasoning longingly before reaching for the salt instead and putting it in my cart. Then I looked around for the pepper. It's usually right by the salt.

I happened to look up. I cursed in Spanish when I saw that the pepper had been stocked all the way on the top shelf. I wasn't going to be able to reach that. I'm short as hell. But I tried anyway.

I leaped up, my hand nowhere near the pepper. I tried again. And failed. Then I tried again, running out of breath and probably looking silly as hell. I huffed in frustration when I failed to even touch it.

I was getting ready to look for an employee when an arm stretched above my head and grabbed the pepper without any struggle. A musky scent of a man made my eyes roll in delight. Then I noticed the ink on his hand, his arm clad in the dark material of a suit.

I dropped my gaze, seeing Rade before me. "What are you doing in here?" Has he been following me this whole time? Why didn't I notice him sooner?

He dropped the pepper into my cart and looked at me. He didn't utter a word. Of course.

I rolled my eyes. "You didn't need to come with me." Does he know how a Chauffeur works? I didn't ask for a butler or a bodyguard. Just a driver. "Go wait in the car. I'll be done in a moment."

He didn't budge.

I sighed. I didn't have time for this. "Rade-"

"You need me," he interrupted.

I froze, my eyes wide in shock. "Excuse me?"

"You didn't realize I was behind you this entire time," he explained. "It's clear that you have no sense of alertness and lack awareness when it comes to your surroundings. So, like I said, you need me."

This is the most he's ever said to me. Why did I want to smile? He just basically insulted me. And why was I completely enamored by his voice? So husky and calm. Is it weird that I could probably listen to him speak forever?

Wait-

"I don't need you," I snap, remembering what he had said just a moment ago. "I've been doing just fine without you."

"I could have been anyone. You could have been kidnapped." There's a slight irritation in his tone of voice, hinting at the faint accent I still haven't been able to identify.

"You're being dramatic."

He goes silent again. And disappointment spreads across my face. I wanted to hear his voice again.

I don't say another word myself as I turn to resume shopping. It's obvious he's not going to listen to me, so I simply act like he's not there.

Though, I found the task much harder than I thought. His constant presence is suffocating. So much heat radiates off him, feeling like a heater on my back. And his cologne. It's a constant reminder of the gorgeous man not even a foot away from me.

And it doesn't help that he's always so willing to swoop in and save the day when I can't reach something on the shelf.

We've been walking around the store for about ten minutes now. Only those ten minutes have felt more like an eternity.

I pause in front of the snacks section. I'm having a difficult time breathing. He's so damn close. I move one hand away from the cart as I twist my upper body to place my palm on his chest.

Dios(God).

This suit doesn't do him any justice. I could tell he was fit, but damn. There was so much that these layers of clothes were keeping hidden.

My eyes remained on his chest for a little too long, prompting me to quickly remove my hand and look away to hide the blush creeping onto my cheeks.

"Can you back up a little bit?" I murmur.

He doesn't move. And when I slowly lift my gaze to his, he's grinning down at me. But then it disappears, and his dark brows furrow. "Aren't you married?"

He says that like he doesn't already know that. But what does that have to do with me wanting personal space?

"What?"

"You're so jittery around me. I see the way your cheeks flush."

I didn't think he had noticed that.

"So?" I reply, as if his observation wasn't so spot on. "What does that have to do with me being married?"

"You don't act... married. You're constantly on edge like you're not used to a man's presence."

Not any man. Just yours.

"Whether the person is man or woman has nothing to do with it. You're in my personal space. It's like you don't have any boundaries."

It hasn't even been a day yet, and I'm already tired of him. I don't know whether I like it better when he's talking or when he's not.

I like hearing his voice. Until he opens up his mouth. And then I'm back to being annoyed.

There he goes again. Silent. Only this time I'm not disappointed. I'm relieved. Because if he talked anymore, he was going to know about my failing marriage. And I wasn't about to open up that can of worms with a stranger. Besides, it's none of his business.