Leather and Lace by Landish Lauren

Author:Landish, Lauren
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-09-01T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

At seven on the dot, there’s a firm knock on my door. I open it to see an older man dressed in a black suit, a burgundy tie sharp against his white shirt. He inclines his head, tilting an invisible hat at me. “Ms. Hunnington? I’m Randolph, Mr. Blackstone’s driver, among other things.” There’s a slightly British lilt to his voice, making him seem charming and grandfatherly. He offers his hand, and I shake it, introducing myself too.

“Other things?” I ask, not sure what he’s talking about.

He smiles politely. “Driver, butler, house manager. I suspect you know Mr. Wilkes? He takes care of Mr. Blackstone’s professional life. I handle his personal affairs. He said you’re to go to his home. Correct?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

He takes my bag and escorts me down to the black Mercedes waiting at the curb. It’s sleek and sophisticated, all curves and class. Randolph opens the door, waiting for me to climb in, and then closes it firmly behind me.

The ride is relatively quiet, just the purr of the powerful engine. I slide my hand along the leather seat, feeling the luxury of the buttery softness. I vaguely wonder if Liam appreciates the extravagance of this. He’s told me about his upbringing, definitely wealthier than mine by far, but rather than a silver spoon entitlement, he came out of it with a work ethic not many possess. But when you grow up with money, there’s an inherent expectation that goes with the experience. I hope that even when I’m a big-deal CEO, I still appreciate the special things, like a chauffeured ride in a fancy car. With a small smile, I make a mental promise to myself to eat some beefaroni at least once a month too.

I’m not sure what to say to Randolph, who seems to be taking my lead on small-talk and stays silent. But I do notice him glancing back at me in the rearview mirror, and I consider that he’s probably done this before for Liam. Pick up a woman, take her to his place for the weekend, and repeat. The thought leaves me cold, but I can’t fault Liam for having a past if I don’t want him to fault me for mine.

I realize that Randolph is trying to figure me out. I can almost feel his judgment . . . too young, too innocent, too much cleavage, too much . . . of a whore. His eyes stay perfectly neutral though, and I have a sudden insight that the whispers of my past and my own inner monologue are filling in gaps that don’t exist. Daisy is right. I am letting my past control my present and my future.

And I’m not going to let the small-town assholes or a driver in my present decide for me. I decide who I am, what I am. And I say I’m a woman with a brain, a heart, and needs. And that’s okay, so they can fuck off. I sit up straighter and meet Randolph’s eyes in the mirror.

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