The Chauffeur Read online

  In one of the lightest and happiest moods that I can remember, I crank up the music and dance in my seat. Then I press the magic button and watch Baby’s hardtop disappear into the trunk.

  I dial Sam from my hands-free to tell him the news before he hears it from someone else.

  “Hey, doll. ‘Sup?” he answers cheerfully.

  “Hi, Sam. I want you to hear from me that I quit James today.” There is a moment of silence.

  “What the fuck, April?” he yells.

  “Yep. I was offered another position today as the private chauffeur for the Rowes.” I wait for him to speak, but all I hear is silence.

  “What am I going to do without you, babe? You were the only bright spot in my day.”

  “I’ll miss you, too, Sam,” I say, nearly in tears. “Why don’t you come over tonight? I’ll order pizza, you bring the brew, and we’ll talk about it.” I’m going to miss seeing him in the mornings before I hit the road.

  “Okay. I drop my last client off at six thirty. She’s the one that I told you about that is fucking James? She’s been out of town, and I’m taking her to his place. I'll be over as soon as I take the car back to the corral.”

  “I’m just glad he won’t be touching me anymore. I’ll see you in a few. Later, Sammy,” I say cheerfully before hanging up and calling Emily.

  “April?” she answers after one ring.

  “Hey, you. I want you to know that I quit today. I quit that bastard, and it feels fucking fabulous!”

  “Kyle told me,” she squeals. Her excitement is contagious. “I’m so excited for you. You’ll be happy there, I'm certain of it. I have a great feeling about all this.”

  “Do you want to hear something funny? I picked up a customer on Friday and drove him to the airport, and then picked him up again today. You will never guess who it was.”

  “Who? That Henry Knievel guy?”

  “You are too funny for words, Emily. You should do stand up.”

  “Right?”

  “No, seriously, you could do Late Night. You suck at names, you know that, right?”

  “April—”

  "It's Henry Cavill, not Knievel, goof. I picked up Jason Rowe. Kyle’s brother.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Did you know Kyle is Grace Rowe’s son?”

  “This is too good to be true. What a small world.”

  “Anyway, I start tomorrow. I have to drive Grace to an appointment in the morning.”

  “This is fortuitous,” she says, giggling. “You and Kyle will live in the same house. I can see you both all the time.”

  “I won’t be living in the house, but I’ll be close enough when. Their current driver has lived in the apartment as long as the family has lived there. I bet it’s in need of an overhaul. Want to help?”

  I envision tons of clutter, stacked up books, counters covered in junk—just like in that Sabrina movie. I bet the carpet will need replacing. Thank goodness, I won’t be moving in until the end of the month. That gives me three more weeks.

  “Sure, I’ll help,” she replies. “So, sushi tonight to celebrate?”

  “Sounds great. Can Sammy come too? He's taking this pretty hard.”

  “Aw, poor baby. I bet he’s going to miss you. Arami’s at eight?”

  “Perfect. We’ll meet you there. I need to make it an early night though since I have to be at the Rowes’ first thing in the morning. It’ll be easier once I live on the property.

  “Oh, I wanted to ask how you and Kyle are doing?”

  “Oh, April, I can’t believe how perfect he is. He’s such a gentleman. I just love that. It's the same with Adam. I think he likes Nicole, too. She's a sweet girl and is good to him.”

  After hearing all that, I find myself with a twinge of jealousy. My best friend has found someone, and I’m sure I’m going to lose her to him. We do everything together, and I’m certain Kyle will be her priority now.

  “I’m happy for you, Em. I think he likes you, too. I bet you’re married within a year.” We both giggle at the possibility.

  “Emily,” I say, pausing, “Thank you so much for talking to him about me.”

  “You’re welcome, hon. I’m happy for you, too.”

  “Hey, did you go and apply for that job yet?” I ask as an afterthought.

  “Yes, but when I got there, I was informed they decided to hire internally, so I’m back out there looking.”

  “You’ll find something. I’ll keep my ears open for you. You know James is probably hiring now,” I say morbidly and laugh when she pretends to vomit.

  Emily didn’t have the means to go to university, and although she’s been taking courses at the local community college to earn her associate's degree, she’s been getting by at a job she hates, and they refuse to acknowledge her potential. Someday she’ll quit, and it will be their loss.

  We confirm our meeting time before I pull into my garage, happy that I won’t have that extra expense anymore. That reminds me—I need to tell Max that I’ll be moving out. On my way up the stairs to my apartment, I text Sam first to say that we’ve had a change of plans.

  Hey, hunky, change of plans … sushi tonight with Emily at 8. Still come over after work, k?

  Mmm … raw fish food. My fav. See you then.

  I scroll my contact list, and after finding Max, I hit send and drop my heavy bag on the floor inside the door. After grabbing a cold soda, I have a seat on the couch and wait for him to answer.

  “Hey, Max. It’s April,” I begin, swallowing when he answers his phone.

  “Hello, April. What’s up?”

  “Um … I got another job, and it starts tomorrow, and, well, the job comes with an apartment, so I’ll be moving out at the end of the month.” I squeeze my eyes shut, expecting to hear the disappointment in his voice.

  “Wow, a new job, eh? Is it better than where you are now?” There’s surprise rather than disappointment, which makes this easier. I thought he’d be upset at not receiving a thirty-day notice from me.

  “Much better. I’ll be a private chauffeur for a family here in Chicago. I’ll make sure I leave this place spotless for you, and I’m sorry for the short notice.” I look around at all the stuff I need to pack and start a mental list of what I need to accomplish this week. I’ll enlist my friends to help me start packing this weekend.

  “I know you will, hon. Don’t worry about cleaning the place. My nephew, Matt, is moving to town. I was hoping to give him a place to live, and now I can. I’ll get someone to paint and install new carpet, so just make sure you take everything, and I’ll do the rest. I’m sure going to miss you.”

  “Me too, Max. I’ve lived here a long time, you know?”

  “Yep, a long time. You stop by before you leave, you hear?

  “You know I will, and I’ll bring you a batch of my cookies.”

  There—all the important calls are made except to Mom and Dad. I’ll send them an email to let them know what’s going on. I’m sure they’ll be glad to hear that I’m finally away from James. If my dad knew that James had touched me the way he did, he’d be here in a New York minute.

  After I pour the remains of my soda over ice, I wait for my computer to boot up, and email my parents to fill them in. But first, I sit back to read my mail, opening the one from Kyle first. He welcomes me and gives me the gate code, which I store on my cell phone. After I’ve caught up on my emails, I head for my room to change for dinner.

  At half past seven, the doorbell rings. I look through the peephole and find Sam standing there.

  “Hey, doll,” he says, lifting me into his arms.

  “Hey, Sammy.” I throw my arms around his neck until he sets me back on my feet.

  “So, you’re leaving me, huh?”

  “Oh, hell no.” I shut the door, take the six pack of Heineken from him, opening one for each of us. After I tell him everything that’s happened over the past few days, he gapes at me.

  “Sam?”

  “You aren’t goin
g to quit seeing me, are you?”

  “No way. You and Emily are my best friends. Once I get settled in my new place, I’ll have you guys over for dinner. I’ll cook your favorite. I promise.”

  “I can live with that.” He waggles his eyebrows before finishing the last of his beer.

  “Okay, let’s go meet Emily. Oh, can we drive separately? I can’t stay out late because I have to be at the Rowe’s before eight.” He nods as I grab my bag.

  After too much sushi, sashimi, and sake, I drive home, needing to roll myself into bed. Instead, I give myself a facial, and while my mask dries, I pick out my uniform for tomorrow. Grace liked the skirt I wore today, so I opt for a similar style of a plain white blouse and black skirt. I’ll French braid my hair so that it won’t get in my face or in my way. Mr. Rowe will appreciate being able to see my eyes, I’m sure. I chuckle at the memory of him trying to look under my visor. I’ll wear my Ray-Bans just to piss him off.

  I get up early and stumble through my usual morning routine. After getting dressed, I give myself a long hard look and chuckle; I look more like an FBI agent than a chauffeur. To feminize it up a bit, I add small pearl stud earrings and a delicate gold link bracelet with my boyfriend watch. After spraying on a mild but pleasant perfume, I’m ready to go. I have a nagging feeling that I’m forgetting something and look at myself again.

  Ah, yes, lip gloss. A girl should never leave the house without lipstick. I read that somewhere.

  After a nervous drive to the Rowes’, there’s a long wait to get through the gate. Not sure where to park, I pull into a space near the garage. I’ll find out where my permanent spot is later. I locate the side door that leads into the kitchen and ring the doorbell, recognizing the man who carried Mr. Rowe’s bags to my car the other day.

  “Ms. Sanders?” he asks. I smile with a nod, and he opens the door, inviting me inside the large service entrance.

  “Thank you.” My two-bedroom apartment would fit in here with room to spare.

  “My name is Garrett. I’m the steward. I take care of the Rowes. My wife, Rita, is the housekeeper. If you’ll follow me, John is waiting for you in the kitchen.”

  Once we enter the kitchen, I’m greeted warmly.

  “Is this her?” a woman in uniform asks. When Garrett nods, she gives me a warm embrace.

  “Welcome aboard, April. It’s so good to have you here. My name’s Rita, and I take care of the house and kitchen. You’ve met Garrett, and this is John. John, this is April, our new driver.” John struggles to rise, so I lay my hand on his shoulder, silently telling him not to get up.

  "It's nice to meet you, John.” He takes my hand, smiling.

  “It’s good to meet you, too, dear. I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Mrs. Rowe said that you’re moving to be with your son and grandchildren? That sounds lovely.”

  “Yes, there’s a room waiting for me, and if Mrs. Rowe weren't planning a dinner party for me this week, I would have moved even sooner,” he confides, his hand shaking as he lifts a piece of toast.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee while you wait for Mrs. Rowe, April?” Rita asks, reaching for a cup off the shelf.

  “I’d love some, thank you.” I walk over to her and pour myself a cup. After taking my first sip, I’m caught off guard by a deep, smooth voice.

  “Can I get a cup of that?”

  “Y-yes, of course.” I pour Jason a cup and hand it to him then turn toward John.

  “Are you prepared to show me around a bit, John? Mrs. Rowe should be ready soon, yes?” He nods, and I watch as he rises from his seat. I’m tempted to assist him, but don’t want to appear condescending. I promise myself I’ll learn everything I can in the shortest time possible so that he can retire.

  “Yes, Miss Sanders, let’s go get the car and bring it around to the front for Mrs. Rowe.”

  “How about if I drive today? You can explain things to me on the way to drop off Mrs. Rowe, all right? And call me April,” I say in a whisper.

  “Yes, Miss April.” He gives me a smile and a wink. What an adorable man!

  “So how will I know when Mrs. Rowe is ready to leave?” I ask, wanting to absorb all the information I can in this very short period I have with him.

  “Garrett will push a button in the house which will notify you in the apartment or the garages. If Mrs. Rowe wants to leave at eight o'clock, then have the car there ready and waiting. Sometimes they’re early but rarely are they late. All of the Rowes are very punctual.”

  “Good to know.”

  “I have a detailed notebook I’ve prepared over the years that contains just about everything you’ll need to know, from maintenance and washes, to which car you’ll use for certain functions or activities. I have all the telephone numbers for the mechanics and any other pertinent information you might need, as well.”

  I see my car parked on the side of the house and remember to ask. “John, that’s my car over there. I need to move it around back I suppose?”

  “It’s okay where it is for now, but when we get back, I’ll show you where to park it,” he explains as we continue our walk toward the garage. “Once we return from dropping off Mrs. Rowe at her appointment, we need to drive Mr. Jason to the office at ten o’clock. He often works in his home office in the morning, then, goes in around ten. Mr. Kyle will drive himself most of the time. He likes to ride his motorbike to work during the summer months. Ms. Nicole will need you only when she an appearance to make somewhere, such as a charity event or something of that nature. Typically, she’ll work out of her office here at home or will drive herself as well. Mr. Rowe has been in London for the past month. He’s expected home within the next two weeks. You will drive him a lot, along with Mrs. Rowe. They go everywhere together—except London this time. Mrs. Rowe was needed here.” I take notes, not wanting to miss a thing.

  “See that light right there?” John points to a small light that came on over the counter. “That’s Garrett’s cue that Mrs. Rowe is ready to go. She’s early today. We need to get the car out front right away.”

  I slip behind the wheel of a white-on-white Mercedes Maybach and run my hands over the steering wheel, appreciating the feel of the soft leather under my fingers. I adjust the comfortable seat to my height since I’m sure I’ll be the only one driving this work of art from here on out.

  “It sure is a beautiful car.”

  “This one is a 2016. Mrs. Rowe doesn’t like the look of the 2017. Besides, this car is, well, it suits Mr. Rowe,” John explains as he sits in the passenger seat. I wait for him to get comfortable and buckled in before I back out of the garage. After driving around to the front of the mansion, we wait for Mrs. Rowe. As soon as I step out of the car, she walks out with Romeo, their heads together in discussion. I immediately open the passenger door for her.

  He’s dressed in his running gear, and by the looks of it, he hasn’t gone yet because he still looks like he just stepped out of GQ. After he escorts his mother to the car, he turns and heads back to the house. I don’t miss the look he gives me over his shoulder, either.

  “Good morning, April. I’m happy to see you,” Grace says, sliding into the back seat.

  “You, as well, Mrs. Rowe.”

  “April?” Grace calls out just as I swing the door closed. I reopen it after hearing her call my name. “I asked you to call me Grace, remember?”

  “Yes, I remember, ma’am, but with all due respect, I’ve not yet earned the privilege of calling you by your first name. Will you bear with me on that for a bit? I will try harder.” She smiles, seeming to understand. I shut the door, making sure it’s latched tight and when I look up, I see Jason standing at the door, watching me.

  Keeping my thoughts appropriate, I repeat in my head that he’s my employer.

  After I’m secure in the front seat, I look at the paper that John has laid on the console for me. To my relief, I know the exact address—I don’t want to get lost on my first day. Once we reach the location, I jump out and ope
n the door for her.

  “I’ll see you at the office at six o’clock, April,” she says as I shut the door behind her.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  When I take my seat behind the wheel, John tells me he wants to drive to a few of his regular stops to introduce me to his contacts around town. This takes the better part of the morning. Then, it’s time to pick up Jason.

  “April, I can see that you know how to drive, so I’m going to have you drive Jason to the office,” John says, getting out of the car. “When you return, we’ll go over the notebook, is that all right?”

  “Sure, John. You go do what you need to do, and I’ll see you back here in an hour.”

  As John disappears around the side of the house, Jason approaches the car wearing a beautiful dark navy suit and white shirt. His tie has a mixture of blues and greens that match his eyes perfectly. Shaking my head at my rambling thoughts, I open the door for him, and he climbs in the back in one smooth motion.

  “To the office, Mr. Rowe?” I ask as soon as I take my seat behind the wheel.

  “Yes, Ms. Sanders,” he confirms, mocking my preferred use of address.

  I look at him in the rear-view mirror and see that he’s already on his phone.

  “Good morning,” he says sweetly. “Any calls?” I peek at him while he concentrates. “This is the calm before the storm, I fear. I’m on my way. I'll see you in twenty minutes.” He hangs up, but not before he catches my eyes in the mirror.

  “So, Ms. Sanders. Tell me about yourself.”

  Now, why would he want to know that?

  “What do you mean, sir?” Like what does he want to know? How tall am I? Where did I matriculate? Thongs or briefs?

  “You know, where did you grow up? How old are you? Do you have parents? Are you married? Do you have a boyfriend that’s currently stalking you?” he asks, easing into a breathtaking smile.

  “Oh, I see. Um … I’m from Denver, Colorado. I’m twenty-six. I do have two parents still together. I am not married and have no stalker issues.” I don’t give any more information than he asks. I can see the frustration on his face.