“You took your
time!”
“Just making sure
I was ready. Whitehaven doesn't like to be kept waiting.” Cinching
the belt tighter, she secured the two sides of her coat together,
inadvertently giving her driver a brief flash of black lace. Driver
Carl was the one they always assigned to her and they'd quickly
settled into an uneasy alliance; with him taking care of escorting
her to Ben's more privileged clientèle and with her doing her best
to have as little direct physical contact with him as possible.
Fortunately, the car was a manual shift, but Carl drove erratically,
keeping his right hand on the gear selector, making sure it was
always close to her thigh.
“What time ya due
there? Two thirty?” Driver Carl had a wad of gum in his mouth as
usual, allegedly having kept the same piece going for over three
years now, leaving it soaking in an undrunk shot-glass of espresso
every night to refresh its flavour. He swore it worked better than
any energy drink and never left him needing to visit one of the few
local rest-rooms, but it left his breath reeking of stale coffee,
making him even more repellent than he would have been otherwise.
“Two o'clock,
sharp. And I'm finished after that. You can take me straight back to
Ben's. I have my day-clothes and some other stuff to pick up and
after that I'll be making my own way home. I need to do some
shopping, so I'll not be wanting a ride. You can take someone else
out if Ben needs you to.”
“'Sa pity. How is
it you're always shopping, darling? I've never gotten to take ya
home. Anyone would think...”
“...I'm a busy
woman with a daughter at pre-school who needs to clothed and fed.
Yes, that.”
The car bumped along
the road a while longer, stopping at traffic signals every few
hundred yards, causing Carl's hand to stray toward the folds of her
coat she'd arranged to act as a barrier between them. She knew she
could tell Ben about it later but Carl was his only driver. She'd
still have to ride with him again and who knew how he'd act after
'Gentle' Ben had had another of his staff discipline him while he
watched. She'd as little to do Carl as possible but the stories he'd
told her between his masticating and his cursing left her with no
illusions as to his character. He was a tough-for-hire, that was what
his trade was, his driving just a way to ensure he was close to hand
if ever a client got too rough with her. If she pissed him off –
who knows if he'd ever respond to her call for help – maybe he'd
even join in, saying he was too slow to get to her and making sure
she wasn't able to contradict him.
She was never gonna
let him take her home.
