If you had, you’d have had to wait at least six weeks. He’ll call around, find out which dealer has a gray car coming in, give him a few hundred bucks, and you’ll get your car.”
“Are you serious?”
“In deals this big, Gina, money talks.”
“I thought it always talked,” she said.
“There are some mountains that money won’t move, and I’m sure you’ve encountered one or two of them.” The car stopped, and he got out and opened the door for her.
She stood between him and the open car door. “Yes, Justin, and that’s a good thing.” She stared up at him as if searching for something, then shook her head from side to side. “Life is strange,” she murmured, almost inaudibly. “You never know what will happen next.”
Chapter 2
Once inside her apartment, Gina kicked off her shoes, walked into her living room and looked around. What on earth did she need a big expensive car and a chauffeur for? She could drive as well as anybody, provided she had something to drive, and her need of a man like Justin Whitehead definitely had nothing to do with automobiles, large or small. She didn’t have to pack, she didn’t have to clean because she was moving in less than a week, so what could she do? The phone rang and she raced to answer it.
“Well, how’re we coming?” Miles asked.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she replied, aware that her tolerance for Miles lessened each time she saw him or spoke with him.
“Well, we ought to be getting on with the terms of the will.”
“We? You mean, there’s something in the will that applies to you? I read it carefully, and that is not the impression I got.”
“Well, you know what I mean. As executor of the will, it’s my duty to see that it is carried out to the letter.”
“Miles, I appreciate help when I need it, but if you lean on me too heavily, I may make you very uncomfortable. Goodbye.” She suspected that Miles Strags would one day be her enemy, but knowing it didn’t mean she’d kowtow to him.
Later that day, Gina went furniture shopping for her new place. Being wealthy certainly had its perks, she thought. Her first stop was Bloomingdale’s furniture department to choose the furnishings for her bedroom and guest bedroom. She didn’t like what she saw, called a car service and visited the big furniture-store showrooms in the borough Queens. Two months earlier, if she had needed furniture, she would have gone directly to the Lower East Side. Within two hours, she found what she wanted. After releasing the car, she stopped by her favorite Italian restaurant and ate dinner. It wasn’t the haunt of the hoity-toity, but it suited her. Veal scallopini with spaghetti and broccoli, a salad and a glass of pinot grigio, all for under thirty dollars, was as much class as she needed. She felt as if she’d just splurged. As she walked out of the restaurant, she wondered what Justin would have thought of her having dinner in the same suit she’d worn all day. She did that regularly when she dined out, but she’d bet his previous employers wouldn’t have done it.
I wish I’d met him under different circumstances. I wonder what he did before he decided he had to work as a chauffeur. He’s nice and all, but somehow, it doesn’t suit him.
Sunday, after church, Gina went to Heddy’s apartment for one last visit. While there she saw a vase that reminded her of Heddy and decided to take it. She telephoned Miles. “People from the charity will be here tomorrow to take the things from Heddy’s apartment. Would you like to come and see if there’s something here you’d like to have, perhaps as a memento of Heddy?”
“Uh…well, now…that’s very nice of you. I think I would. Are you there now?” She told him she was. “If you can wait about twenty minutes, I’ll be there.”
Hmm. Interesting. The man was too proud to ask for a souvenir of someone he’d known, by her calculation, approximately thirty-five years. When he arrived, he went directly to a hutch in the dining room, lifted a pair of blue porcelain lions and caressed them.
“These are very old. I believe Heddy said they were Ming Dynasty or something like that. I’m not sure, but I’ve always loved them. Thank you so much. I…uh…Would you care to join me for supper?”
She caught herself just before her bottom lip dropped. “Thank you, Miles, but I already have plans,” she said.
“Some other time?” he asked, leaving no doubt about his purely male interest in her.
“Perhaps, but I’m so busy, I can’t say when.” Suddenly ill at ease with him, she walked toward the door.
After closing the door behind him, she slumped against it.
Was he after her or Heddy’s money? Stupid question. If he got her, he’d have both with no further hassle.
She heard her cell phone ringing and raced back to the living room where she’d left her purse. The ringing stopped just as she reached the phone, but a check of the messages showed Justin had called her.
“Sorry to bother you,” he said when she identified herself, “but I dialed your home phone and you didn’t answer, so I dialed your cell number. Where are you? Can you turn on a television? I’m watching an unbelievable show on channel thirteen.”
“I don’t think this TV is working. Can you tape it?”
“Yeah. I’ll save it for you,” he said.
“Thanks for thinking about me,” she said. “I’ll look forward to viewing it. Have a pleasant evening.”
“You, too.”
She hung up and stared at the cell phone in her right hand. Her driver was somewhere watching a program and enjoying it and wanted to share it with her. That wasn’t normal, was it? And he was thinking about her, too. Surely, his mind was not immersed in appreciation for her as an employer. He’d said he needed the job, but that suit he wore when they shopped for a car fitted him as if it had been tailor made. Annoyed because she seemed to be developing a crush on her mysterious chauffeur, Gina looked toward the ceiling and blew out a long breath.
“Everybody’s innocent until proved guilty,” she reminded herself aloud. “I’m going to stop second-guessing the man. He behaves properly, and seems to be an expert driver, and that’s all I can ask.” Her shoulders sagged. “But if that man isn’t a walking advertisement for sex, I don’t know what is.”
Justin stared at the television set, seeing nothing. The program had been off the air for a full fifteen minutes and he hadn’t willed himself to move. He was a grown man, and he was used to women—all kinds, ages, colors and shapes of women. But there was something about the way Gina looked at him. Every time she smiled at him, she threw him for a loop. The woman was educated, intelligent and, he suspected, accomplished. But she wasn’t jaded, nor did she have the sophistication that comes with old money. He walked over to the window and looked out into East River.
He felt protective toward Gina, and he had to get over it. Feeling for her would interfere with his performance as her employee and with his professionalism as a journalist. He needed to be totally objective.
Ordinarily, on a balmy Sunday afternoon when he didn’t feel
