Billionaire's Touch(63)

Evan could still picture those words from Randi, written in her email, over and over again. Of course, she hadn’t been talking about some unknown male. If so, Evan would have been pretty damn happy knowing she was blowing off another guy. However, knowing it had been him she was referring to made him almost certifiable.

Evan rarely got angry, and he still couldn’t figure out why he was so pissed off. After all, did he really think a woman like Randi was going to fall in love with a defective man like him? He was an unromantic, anal type of fucked-up man, focused more on business than anything else in his life.

I’m still trying to prove myself worthy of her friendship, much less her love.

Hell, it didn’t matter, and it didn’t relieve the burning pain in his chest when he thought about the fact that she had written that she could never love a man like him.

I’ll make her love me. She will love me.

Evan wondered if that was even possible, but he didn’t accept defeat well at all. Maybe this wasn’t about business, but it had become just as damned important to him.

It’s more important.

Even as the thought slipped into his mind unconsciously, he admitted it was true. For the first time in his life, someone other than his family took precedence over his portfolio.

“What’s your driver’s name?”

Evan straightened the cuffs of his tuxedo—which didn’t really need fixing—as Randi’s voice jolted him from his rampant thoughts. He was seated next to her in the backseat of the Rolls, on their way to the ball.

She was dressed in a beautiful red cocktail dress that showed off every one of her curves and revealed way too much of her flawless skin, as far as he was concerned. He could have done without the low-cut back and the plunging neckline. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her in the dress she was wearing; he’d just prefer that nobody else did.

Mine!

It had taken everything he had not to lock her inside of her house with him and keep her there. His dick had been hard from the moment she’d smiled at him when she opened the door.

Her killer smile got to him. Every. Damn. Time.

Finally, he answered her question. “His name is Stokes.”

“What’s his first name?” she asked in an insistent whisper, obviously not wanting the older man to hear.

“I have no idea,” he answered honestly. Evan rarely knew the first name of any of his employees.

“He’s a new driver?”

“He’s been with me for years,” he corrected.

“And you don’t know his first name? Does he have a wife and children?” she whispered adamantly.

“I don’t concern myself with my employees’ personal business. If I did, I’d never get anything done.”

Evan knew he was in trouble from the moment he saw the disapproval on her face. “That’s not true and you know it. He’s a personal employee. He takes care of you. Maybe it’s true that you need to be impersonal with some people, but not the people you let into your personal life.”

Evan shrugged. Truth was, he didn’t let anybody into his personal life. Hell, he’d never really had a personal life. It was always all about business.

Stokes drove the car.

Evan worked in the backseat until he reached his destination.

They didn’t exchange personal comments.

He watched as Randi leaned over the front seat. “What’s your first name, Stokes?”

To give Stokes credit, Evan noticed that his driver seemed completely unflustered. “Gerald, madam. My family calls me Jerry.”

“Are you married?” Randi questioned conversationally.

“Yes, madam. The wife and I just celebrated our fiftieth wedding anniversary,” Stokes told Randi in a stoic voice.

“Children? Grandchildren?” Randi prompted.

“Three wonderful children, six grandkids, and now three great-grandbabies so far,” Stokes answered, his voice warming as he spoke about his family.

“You didn’t want to retire?” Randi shifted positions so she could lean closer to the driver from the backseat.

Evan hated that.

“No, madam. I lost my job when I was almost retirement age. Mr. Sinclair was kind enough to give an old man a chance instead of hiring a younger body. I needed the work then. My daughter was sick and needed help. He made it possible for me to help her with a more-than-fair income as his driver. I’ll be a loyal employee until the day I can’t drive anymore,” Stokes answered, his voice a little more emotional as he spoke of his employer and his past.

Evan fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat, wondering why he never knew about Stokes and his family. It wasn’t that his driver wasn’t willing to talk. Evan realized he’d just never bothered to ask.