Drive Me Wild

“Nope. Not my style,” she said. She wouldn’t know how to sit in one of those things, she thought. “Definitely not, but I want a car that was made here. Seems as if we import everything, and if that weren’t enough, we ship the rest overseas wholesale.”

She thought she heard him clear his throat. “My sentiments, precisely, ma’am. That leaves us with a choice between a Lincoln and a Cadillac.”

“Is there a big difference?” she asked him.

“To me, yes, ma’am, but you have to be satisfied. Why don’t we meet tomorrow and shop around? We can even test drive a few models.”

“Oh, dear. I was going to pack, but—”

“Miss Harkness, excuse me for making a suggestion, but why don’t you hire a good moving company and let the movers do the packing.”

“Good gracious, I hadn’t thought of that. Great idea. Would you say four hours is all we need to shop for a car tomorrow?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good. Call a car service and make arrangements for them to pick you up, then get me, and we’ll go shopping?”

“Works for…Yes, ma’am. I’ll be at your place at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”

She called a moving company, agreed to an estimate and rubbed her hands together, symbolic of freeing herself from the packing chores. “Maybe I’ll eventually learn how to live like someone who doesn’t have to count pennies.”

What did a woman wear when she was going shopping with a gorgeous chauffeur to pick out a car that cost as much as her previous year’s salary as an accountant? Gina stepped out of the shower, sat on the little stool in the corner and began drying her feet. “This is stupid,” she said to herself as she got up and toweled her body. I’ve never been so discombobulated. Maybe poor is better. You just go to a used car lot and get the cheapest model they have. No fuss. No choices and no wasted time.

Gina enjoyed a good laugh at her silliness and then decided to wear whatever she liked. After all, it was none of Justin Whitehead’s business how she dressed. In a green silk suit, black accessories and with her hair down, she told herself she’d dressed for a casual day of shopping. However, when she put gold loops in her ears, she knew she’d lied to herself. She wanted to make an impression on the man she’d hired to be her chauffeur? “I was never stupid,” she said aloud in an effort to console herself.

Butterflies seemed to have found a home in her stomach, so she made coffee and managed to drink half a cup before the building guard—the building in which she lived didn’t have a doorman, but an armed guard—rang her buzzer.

“A gentleman here to see you, Miss Harkness.”

“Thanks, Arthur, I’ll be right down.”

She managed one more swallow of coffee, locked her door and headed for the elevator. She hated to keep anyone waiting, and it seemed as if the elevator would never come. When she stepped into the lobby, she saw him leaning against the guard’s desk.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said, and suspected from Justin’s raised eyebrows that she’d said the wrong thing.

“My time is your time,” he said with a half bow, and she knew she’d made a mistake. She could only thank God that Miles hadn’t been there to witness it. Her feeling of discomfort at his appreciative appraisal was immediately overlaid with feminine pride that such a stunning man found her attractive.

He opened the back door of the hired car for her, closed it and then sat beside the driver.

Had she actually expected him to sit in the back with her?

Justin sat with his back to the door and spoke to her. “We’re going to Eleventh Avenue to look first at Cadillacs and then at Lincolns. I made an appointment with a salesman at each dealership.”

“Thank you, Justin. I didn’t think to make an appointment.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to, ma’am. If you tell me to do something, I’ll try my best to do it right.”

She didn’t doubt that. She also knew that the shopping trip wasn’t her idea, but his. “I see from the logo that this is a Lincoln, Justin. Which Lincoln is it?”

“A Town Car, ma’am.”

“It’s very comfortable,” she said.

Justin turned face forward and spoke softly to the driver. She locked her gaze on the back of his head, noticed that his hair was perfectly trimmed. She recalled that when she’d seen him lounging against the guard’s desk, she’d noticed her new driver’s grooming was impeccable.

The car stopped, and Justin turned so that he could look at her. “This is the Cadillac dealer, ma’am. We’re right on time.” He got out, walked back and opened her door just as she reached for the handle. If he noticed that, he didn’t let on.

“Will he wait for us?” she asked Justin as they entered the dealer’s office.

“Yes, ma’am. We’ve hired him for four hours. I think that’s all we need.” A salesman approached them and spoke to Justin.

“Mr. Whitehead? Glad to meet you.” He shook hands with Justin and then with her. “Thank you for your patronage, Ms. Harkness.” He smiled at Justin. “May I see your driver’s license?” Justin showed him the license. “This way, please. I suggest you take it up the Major Deegan, Mr. Whitehead,” the man said with such pride that one would have thought he engineered the automobile.

Justin opened the back door for Gina, then seated himself behind the wheel. “Relax, and let’s see how comfortable this thing is. Wait a minute.” He got out, opened the door beside her and reached across her to fasten her seat belt.

She noticed that he avoided looking at her when his hand brushed her thigh. At first, she expected him to apologize, but he didn’t, and it dawned on her that he didn’t want to call attention to what was evidently an accident. He seated himself behind the wheel and pulled out of the lot to the sound of Mozart’s Concerto for Flute and Harp.

“I take it you like Mozart’s music.”

She opened her eyes and sat forward. “What did you say?” He repeated the question. “I love chamber music. It’s so peaceful.” She looked out of the window at the river beside them. Did you or the dealer choose that radio station?”

“I did. Why?”

“I thought for a minute that it was part of the dealer’s sales pitch. Thanks for selecting it.”

“My pleasure, ma’am. What do you think so far?”

“I can’t see the difference between this and the one you rented for us, but I’d like to test the other one.”

“Then, we’ll take this one back. The Town Car dealer is also on Eleventh Avenue around Fifty-fifth Street.”

“Well, what do you think?” the salesman asked when they returned the car.

Justin made the thumbs-up sign. “As I told you, she wants to check out another model. You’ll know one way or the other this morning.” They thanked the man and left.

“Gee, there’re three couples ahead of us,” she said as they entered the second dealership.

“Not to worry, ma’am. They didn’t make an appointment, I did.” He showed the salesman his driver’s license, and they were soon once again driving north on the Major Deegan Expressway. “I thought we’d take the same route as we did in the Cadillac, go over the same bumps and around the same curves so you can make a proper comparison,” he said.

“Smart thinking. If the service and the performance histories are the same or approximately the same, I think I’d like this one, but before I choose, I’d like your opinion,” she said.

“Thank you, ma’am. If all things were equal, I’d take this one, but I’d like to check the ratings.”

“Then, can we get some information on the performance and the ratings of these cars?”

“I have it right here.”

“Wonderful. Let’s stop somewhere and go over it.”