Yes, she thought, it’s very private, except when the landscaper, the gardener or the pool man is around. She’d better double check the schedule.
They walked through a path to his garage. It was big enough for three cars but he had only two, a black BMW and a white, rather beat-up looking Chevy. He unlocked the front door of the Chevy and told her to get in, handing her the keys. Then he got in on the other side. He picked up some papers from the front seat and held them in his lap.
“Start the engine,” he said. “We’ll drive around a little, see how good a driver you are.”
She drove down the long driveway into the street. He had her drive around the neighborhood for about ten minutes before returning. She drove slowly. She rarely drove except to spell Alex on long drives when they visited
