I watch as Gavin goes through the paperwork, signing and initialing wherever the salesman points his finger. I can’t fathom what it’s like to have that much money, yet he never acts entitled or better than everyone else. Sure, his house is huge, but he told me on the drive up here that he would prefer something small like the little two-bedroom flat he had in London, but that he didn’t want anyone near him. He didn’t tell me why he felt the need to buy a brand new Maserati Quattroporte, especially when he never goes anywhere, but I didn’t think to question him on that.
Besides, he worked most of the way up here as he said he would—laptop propped on his lap—and I listened to my music through my ear buds so as not to disturb him. There really wasn’t any opportunity to do much talking.
Gavin had sent me a text Wednesday night, telling me what time to be at his house. When I showed up this morning, he met me out on his front porch and barely grunted a hello, but he did order me out of my car, insisting we’d take his rental to Raleigh so we could leave it there.
I wanted to ask him so badly about the noise I heard in his office on Tuesday. It was a massive crash, and I’m guessing it was his desk. Those things don’t just topple over on their own, so I have to assume he upended it. When I went to check on him, he was clearly upset… I could hear it in the tone of his voice, before he snarled at me to leave him alone.
His tone scared me… vicious and pain filled all at the same time. I hesitated for just a moment, feeling like I should push the door open and see what I could do to help, then I remembered that Gavin Cooke is nothing more than my employer. A darkly compelling and extremely sexy employer… but nothing more.
“You ready to go?” Gavin says to me as he stands from the salesman’s desk. He looks so amazing, wearing a pair of charcoal-gray slacks and a long-sleeved, lightweight black sweater. The temperature was supremely brisk this morning, and we both dressed accordingly. I chose to wear a light, wool skirt in brown-and-red plaid with brown tights, paired with a pair of brown Mary Janes and a cream sweater. Living on the sunny beaches of North Carolina, I tend to dress in shorts and tank tops for a good chunk of the year, but when I feel the nip of cold weather, I’m all over the appropriate fashions… wool, tights, boots, and trendy scarves. I only get to experience it for a few months a year.
I follow Gavin outside, the salesman hot on his heels. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you out on a drive first, to show you all the features?”
Shaking his head, Gavin heads to the passenger side of the shiny black car, that I have to admit, is one of the most beautiful vehicles I’ve ever seen with its gently curved, sleek lines and polished chrome accents. He opens the door and motions me inside. “No thanks. I think I can figure it out.”
“But I need to show you how to transition between automatic and manual,” the salesman practically whines as I slide onto the butter-soft, white leather seat. I’m sure he’s never had someone buy a car completely untested before.
I don’t hear Gavin’s response because he closes the door once my legs are securely in and walks around the front of the car with the salesman trailing behind. When he opens the driver’s door, I hear him say, “Here are the keys to my rental. Someone will be by to pick it up later today.”
He tosses the keys to the salesman, who fumbles them briefly, looking utterly put out at not being able to show off the car.
Gavin slides into the driver’s seat, and he looks so natural doing it. “Thanks for your help,” he tells the salesman, who looks completely flummoxed, and shuts the door in his face. Starting the car, he revs the engine hard, causing the salesman to jump backward a step.
I cover my mouth with my hand so as not to laugh, and Gavin shoots me a sideways grin. Putting his seatbelt on, he says, “Ready to see what this puppy can do?”
“I can see it already put a dent in your wallet,” I quip as I pull my seatbelt on.
He puts the car in reverse, backs it away from the salesman, who gives us a small wave, with a smile now on his face as I’m sure he’s calculating the commission he just made. “It’s just money,” Gavin says.
“Says the person who has it oozing out of his pores,” I say with a snort.
Putting the car in drive, Gavin pulls away from the sales lot and out on to Capital Boulevard. “You sound like you begrudge me my newly earned wealth.”
“Not at all. I think if I had as much money as you, I’d buy this car too. And one for each of my friends.”
Gavin gives a short laugh but it’s genuine, and I realize I don’t think I’ve heard such an easy sound come from him before. It’s nice.