Saturday afternoon, Gwen called her driver, Richmond, to bring one of the four expensive cars her mother once owned to the front of the house.
Richmond took Brock’s luggage from him and put it in the car's trunk.
“Hey, who is that guy? I thought he was the Uber driver,” he asked Gwen.
“Oh, darling, no. Richmond isn’t an Uber driver,” she said, laughing. No, he’s my handsome personal chauffeur.”
“What! You have a personal driver, too?” Brock asked, shocked.
“Of course. Get in the car, honey,” Gwen said, flicking her long lashes and smiling.
“Richmond, please take us to the nearest five-star hotel.”
“Yes, Ms. Martin.” He replied.
“Oh, I forgot to ask. Did your parents cut you off once you broke up with Amanda like they did when you got engaged to me? Or was it when you started
