A Hot Drive

As Stephanie stepped out of her Gulfstream G300, the hot pavement beneath her feet felt like a frying pan through her flats. She squinted against the sun, and that’s when she saw him–the man standing in front of her, who had a youthful masculinity that made her heart race. He was smoking hot.

When you are ultra-wealth category, you need to keep a distance. It’s too easy to be scammed by people who see you as a dollar sign. She pretended not to notice him as she approached.

“I will drive you anyplace you want to go,” he said, his voice was smooth as silk. 

His deep brown eyes glistened in the sunlight, his face framed by rugged stubble. The muscles of his shoulders bulged against the fabric of his jacket, and she couldn’t help but admire the way he carried himself. Confident, yet approachable. 

“Drive me anyplace? I’m sure you would,,” she replied, a teasing lilt in her voice.

“Where are we headed today?” A hint of curiosity danced in his eyes.

“Darien.” 

He glanced at his mobile. “I have an address. 54 Old Parish Road.” 

Without a word, she slipped into the backseat of the new model Mercedes. If he was as an idiot, he would ask again. But he didn’t. Instead, he turned the key and the car leapt into motion.

“And off we go,” he said, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. He stared, for a few seconds too long. “Are you… working?” he winked. She felt a flutter of something unexpected in her chest. How exciting it would be to be ‘working’.

“No. Daddy’s daughter.” Her tone was playful yet guarded.

“Sorry my mistake. I thought you were too good looking to be rich. I see a lot around these parts."

As they drove, he talked about the traffic and what events were happening in Southern Connecticut that week. Not the best banter, but not the worst. Thank god he didn’t talk about the weather. The weather is so pedestrian. She had drivers all over the country drone on to her about the weather. Not having to pretend the driver’s mundane chatter about the record-breaking heatwave was actually interesting made her day just that little bit easier.

He also kept low-key flirting, tossing out subtle compliments. She had watched The Tinder Swindler three times. She knew the game. Everything is about you, until it isn’t.

She turned the tables. “You are obviously too smart for this, how did you wind up driving a car in Connecticut?”

“Summer holiday.”

“Holiday?”

“Banking some savings before I return to UT this fall,” he turned around and looked at her. “Texas.” He said filling in the 'T' for his East Coast customer, who probably never touches anyplace between the Hudson River and Los Angeles.

“Texas, loved it. I want to visit again soon.”

“If you come, I’ll show you around Austin.”

“I’m sure you will.” she fluttered her eyelashes.

They pulled in front of an imposing Tudor house, set amidst a deep thick forest. The nearest neighbor was a quarter mile away. Mostly hedge fund douche bags.

The maid let her in, and she had the obligatory lunch with her father. He went on about his hip pain and his legal troubles. What did it all have to do with her? But she frowned at his pain and oohed and ahhed to all his big talk, as she knew she had to.

After a lunch with her dad, Mark was waiting outside, ready to whisk her away. Dad stood on the doorstep and waved goodbye, a sign that she had done well.

“Greenwich. 143 Baywater,” she ordered the hot driver.

“Your destination is my command.”

“Isn’t your dad the one who–?” People all over the country knew her dad.

“Yes he is.” 

“The media said he ran an abusive household. That...” Mark turned around and looked at her earnestly. “Are you safe with him?”

She felt a flash of anger.“ He’s my dad, of course I am.” She leaned back into the backseat. She hated this conversation.

“It must be hard to look at the press coverage every day.”

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” she told him firmly.

“Sorry. It's weird you are from the same family. You seem so nice.”

She looked out the window. Mark played with the car's controls. Stephanie remembered the reason she came here. She did her calmness mantra, felt the leather of the back seat, took a deep breath, and cleared her mind of irritation.

Leaning forward, she rested her chin on the edge of the front seat. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to charm me.”

Mark glanced in the rearview mirror, a smirk playing on his lips. “Me? Charm a passenger? Never. But my mom says I have a gift for talking to people.”

“Is that what she calls it? I thought it was just dazzling your personality,” she shot back, raising an eyebrow.

“Dazzling personality? I prefer handsome or fit, but I’ll take it,” he quipped, his grin widening.

“So, what’s your secret? To your good looks,” she teased.

“Actually, it’s just a lot of sun and fun and a little bit of luck,” he replied, glancing at her with a twinkle in his eye. 

“Great, I’ll add that to my list of summer goals: get some sun and get lucky to find the right chauffeur,” she said with a playful smirk.

“Just remember, I come with a no-refund policy. Once you get me, there will be no other driver for you,” he replied, his voice dripping with mock seriousness.

“Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind as I plan my summer,” she said, leaning back with a satisfied grin.

He drove to her apartment building, one that overlooked a harbor full of sailboats bobbing gently on the waves. After he opened her door, Mark looked at her expectantly, waiting for a tip.

Fortune favors the bold. “You must be thirsty,” she said. “I’ll get you a drink out of the fridge. Follow me.”

She turned to lead him inside, and the sound of his footsteps echoed hesitantly behind her. Opening the door of her three-bedroom apartment, she saw the ocean beyond the windows, and scanned the immaculate interior. The cleaning crew had kept it spotless despite her months long absence.

He stood inside her apartment, his eyes fixated on the ocean.

“Do you really go to UT, or is that just what you say to cute customers?” she asked, half-joking, as she handed him a Pellegrino with a fresh wedge of lemon.

"No joke. English major and Longhorns tennis team."

"So you can cross my t's and whip me at tennis." She winked.

He took a deep breath, looking around, obviously feeling out of place in the trappings of east coast wealth.

“I know we live in two different worlds,” he said, his gaze steady and intense. “But I’ve never actually talked to anyone like you.” That look—deep and searching—made her heart skip a beat.

She touched his shoulder, feeling his toned muscles, and left a hand there. Five minutes later, they were in her bed.

After they were done making love, he said, “You are fascinating,” his voice barely above a whisper. She had seen that look before.

“I hope you can be fascinated next Tuesday, too” she replied, pulling up her schedule on her mobile. 

"I'll be here."

She got up and started tidying herself up. “Now take me to the airport. I need to fly to Miami tonight.” to meet Raphael, was the unspoken end of her sentence.

“I’ll take you whatever destination you want to go to.” 

She smiled, pleased. “You are going places, Mark. I can tell.” 

He grinned in satisfaction. Indeed, Mark was going to the airport to serve her needs. She felt a pang of guilt. In a few months they would probably be in a lawyer’s office signing another NDA, but the thrill of disobeying her father was irresistible. If he did what he did, why couldn’t she? The lifestyle of the rich was so terribly boring. Only talking to each other. Only going to the same places. She preferred to live between the two worlds—the one filled with the safety of wealth, and the other with the allure of the unknown. 

"When you are back in Austin, you are going to show me Texas, all of it." She rubbed his shoulders, and Mark grinned in delight at what he thought was his conquest.