Page 18 of The Billionaire and His Driver
“This is so unprofessional of me,” she said, wiping her with the back of her hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tell you my sob story when I’m sure you have many of your own.”
“I told you there’s nothing to be sorry about.” But as he looked into her eyes, he could feel her trepidation. This was too much for her. Or was it too much for him? He couldn’t discern the difference, which was always a bad thing. He withheld hisI’m going to make it rightspeech. For now.
He stood up, tightening his robe.
“I’m sure your bath is cold by now, sir. I’ll freshen it up,” she added and was about to head in that direction.
Ronny almost stopped her. But he didn’t. He let her do her job. And when she finished, he made it a point to have his back to her, standing at the wall-sized window in his bedroom, as she came out of the bathroom.
“Is there anything else you need, sir?” she asked him without bothering to go near him.
“No,” he said without turning around. “Thank you.”
Brina felt a little letdown, but she knew it was for the best. She’d told him way too much. He said he believed her, but was that really true? He wasn’t behaving as if he believed her. The vibe was just off. But that was for the best too. She left his bedroom.
When she left, Ronny rubbed his face with both hands. He could fall for her. He realized it in that instant. He could fall hard for her.
Something he swore he’d never do.
Something he still was never going to do.
He went to the bathroom, removed his robe, and washed even the thought of her off of his skin.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The next day Jockey returned to work completely sober and embarrassed, claiming he had gone to a bachelor party that weekend and partied too hard, and Brina gladly resumed her housekeeping duties.
But she found that she missed being around the boss. She found herself, whenever she was cleaning a room on the front side of the house, looking out the window to see if she could see him going or coming. But in the three months’ since, she’d only seen him once. And that was a few weeks after she cried in his arms.
It was a hot, mid-morning when she decided to take a peep out the window. She saw Jockey standing at the big, black Mercedes-Maybach, and then she saw him open the car door. She leaned in when the door opened. That was when she saw Mr. Bradshaw walking down the steps in that hurried way he always had. Then he hopped into his car. The windows were tinted so she couldn’t see him inside the car. And Jockey drove him away.
She inwardly wished him well, thought that was that, and returned to her duties.
Ronny went back to his lifestyle too: Work, work, and more work. But he found he missed Sabrina too. Three weeks after she cried in his arms he called Elvira to his private dining hall in the residence. He was having breakfast his chef had prepared, and he offered her a seat and poured her a cup of coffee.
They talked mainly about the housekeeping budget, upcoming events, and if she noticed any further issues with Jockey. It was a rare meeting, but it happened occasionally. Elvira loved those rare meetings because he always agreed to increase her budget. Not nearly as much as she needed, butanything was better than nothing.
But when Elvira stood up to leave, the heart of the matter was spoken. “Don’t overwork her,” Ronny said. He didn’t look up at her as he placed two more sugar cubes in his coffee and began to stir.
“Don’t overwork who?” Elvira knew who he meant. That was also why she knew he wasn’t going to answer her question. He had a favorite, and everybody in that household knew who that favorite was after Tex blabbed about the breakfast he sent out to her at the club, and the money he offered her for clothes. Although everybody to a person thought she was the fool of fools for not accepting the money, Elvira admired her more. “I don’t overwork any of my staff,” she finally said.
“Let additional maids work with her,” he said, but this time he looked at her. “Don’t overwork her.”
Elvira stared into Ronny’s deep blue eyes. She’d known him since he was around ten years old, when she first came to work for his father, and from that day to this she’d never known him to give a darn about any woman, including his own mother. He treated them like objects for his own gratifications rather than equals or even human beings with feelings and emotions. But why, she wondered, was hesoenamored with Brina?
But he was. There was no getting around it. She even caught him on several occasions watching from the fourth-floor windows whenever Brina was out back cleaning different guest rooms. Or helping to unload vans. Or laughing with other maids during breaktime. He favored her. Maybe was a little obsessed with her. But given how Ronny treated every womanhe’d ever been with in the past, Elvira was certain his favoritism was not a good thing for Brina.
And for him to order her to provide Brina with help when the staff was already stretched too thin, was a tall order. But it was his world. She was just working in it. “Yes, sir,” Elvira said, and left.
But it all came to a head when at the end of a hectic work day nearly three months after Brina sat on that couch in Ronny’s bedroom and cried her eyes out, Mrs. Dash saw that she was leaving with the other maids and called her back. “Where do you think you’re going?”
The other maids were heading out of the staff room to get on the van. Brina was surprised she would stop her at all: she knew those van drivers did not wait around. “It’s five-thirty. It’s time to go. I’m going home.”
“No you aren’t either. I told you to be on standby because Jockey didn’t come to work today.”
“I was on standby. Mr. Bradshaw never requested transportation.”
“He just did. He has a dinner party engagement tonight and he needs a driver. Mr. Prado just gave me the word.”
