CHAPTER SIX
“An unexpected ride.”
The rain started just before six.
Not the gentle kind that cooled the summer air.
This was New York rain.
Heavy.
Sudden.
Relentless.
By the time Zara left the Bellamy & Co. office, the streets were glistening beneath the city lights, and every taxi seemed to disappear the moment she needed one.
She stood beneath the building's awning, clutching her handbag against her side while dozens of people squeezed past, umbrellas colliding like bumper cars.
"Of course," she muttered.
She had left her umbrella in Miss Claudette's hallway.
A rookie mistake.
She checked the ride-share app on her phone.
No drivers available.
Perfect.
With a sigh, she slipped off her heels and held them in one hand.
"If I have to walk to Brooklyn," she whispered to herself, "I'm going to be very dramatic about it."
A deep voice behind her answered,
"I'd pay to see that."
Zara turned.
Malik Carter stood a few feet away beneath a black umbrella.
He wore dark jeans, a charcoal overcoat, and a simple black sweater instead of the tailored suits she'd seen him in before.
Without the formal clothes, he looked...younger.
More relaxed.
"Do you always appear when the weather gets bad?" she asked.
He smiled.
"So far, my timing's been pretty good."
"What are you doing here?"
"I had a meeting upstairs."
She glanced at the building behind them.
"With Bellamy?"
He nodded.
"We're planning another fundraiser."
There was a brief silence.
Rain hammered against the pavement.
"So..." Malik said.
"You planning on swimming home?"
"I was considering it."
"I don't recommend it."
"You don't?"
"No."
He lifted the umbrella slightly.
"I'll give you a ride."
Zara immediately shook her head.
"I couldn't."
"You could."
"I don't even know you."
"That's fair."
He looked around the crowded street before adding,
"But I know you're about to walk home in a thunderstorm."
She folded her arms.
"I've survived worse."
His expression softened.
"I believe you."
Something in the way he said it made her pause.
He wasn't questioning her strength.
He was acknowledging it.
"I promise," he continued, "I'm only offering because I'd rather not see someone catch pneumonia."
She laughed quietly.
"You always this persistent?"
"Only when I think I'm right."
"And you usually think you're right?"
"Often."
She rolled her eyes.
"I noticed."
Malik pointed across the road.
A black Range Rover waited at the curb.
"No chauffeur?"
"I like driving."
"No bodyguards?"
"I fired them for the evening."
She raised an eyebrow.
"You can do that?"
"They work for me."
Despite every warning she'd given herself...
Despite everything she'd heard...
She found herself nodding.
"One ride."
"One ride," he agreed.
"No detours."
"None."
"And you take me straight home."
"I'd already planned to."
He opened the passenger door.
Zara climbed inside.
...
The car smelled faintly of cedarwood and leather.
Jazz played softly through the speakers.
The dashboard was spotless.
"So..." Zara said as Malik pulled into traffic.
"You're surprisingly normal."
He looked sideways at her.
"I'll try not to take that personally."
"I mean it as a compliment."
"I know."
She looked around.
"I expected..."
"What?"
She hesitated.
"I don't know."
"Someone flashier?"
"Maybe."
He chuckled.
"My sister says I'm boring."
"You have a sister?"
"Keisha."
"You close?"
"The closest person I've got."
The answer came without hesitation.
"And your parents?"
Malik kept his eyes on the road.
"My father died when I was twelve."
"I'm sorry."
"So was I."
There was no bitterness in his voice.
Just fact.
"My mother's still around."
"You see her often?"
"Every Sunday."
Zara smiled.
"You don't seem like someone who misses family dinners."
"I don't."
He glanced at her briefly.
"What about you?"
The question settled heavily between them.
"My family's still in Tennessee."
"You visit?"
"No."
"Call?"
"No."
He nodded once.
He didn't ask why.
She appreciated that.
After a few moments, Malik spoke again.
"You know..."
"What?"
"I've learned that when people say they moved across the country for 'a fresh start'..."
"...there's usually a story underneath."
Zara looked out of the rain-streaked window.
"There is."
"You don't have to tell me."
"I know."
"I won't ask until you're ready."
She turned back toward him.
"You assume there'll be another conversation."
"There will."
His confidence should have annoyed her.
Instead...
It made her smile.
...
Traffic slowed near the Brooklyn Bridge.
Rain continued to fall steadily.
The city lights reflected across the wet roads like scattered diamonds.
"It's beautiful," Zara whispered.
"What is?"
"This city."
Malik nodded.
"It is."
"Even in the rain."
"Especially in the rain."
She looked at him.
"You really love New York."
"I do."
"Why?"
He thought about it for a moment.
"Because nobody owes this city anything."
"If you work..."
"...it gives back."
"If you don't..."
"...it keeps moving."
Zara nodded slowly.
"I think I needed somewhere like that."
"You needed somewhere nobody already decided who you were."
Her head turned sharply.
"How did you know?"
Malik gave a small shrug.
"Because that's what I needed too."
For the first time...
She wondered if their pasts had more in common than either of them realised.
...
They pulled up outside Miss Claudette's brownstone twenty-five minutes later.
The rain had eased into a drizzle.
Zara reached for the door handle.
"Thank you."
"My pleasure."
She paused.
"I misjudged you."
Malik smiled faintly.
"People usually do."
"I mean..."
"I expected someone different."
"Worse?"
She didn't answer.
"I know what people say about me."
His voice remained calm.
"Some of it's true."
She frowned.
"You don't deny it?"
"I've never found much peace in pretending my past didn't happen."
Silence filled the car.
"I made choices I'm not proud of."
He looked through the windscreen.
"I spend every day trying to make better ones."
There was no performance in his words.
No rehearsed speech.
Just honesty.
It caught Zara off guard.
She opened the door before she could overthink it.
"Goodnight, Malik."
He smiled.
"Goodnight, Zara."
She stepped onto the pavement and closed the door.
Halfway up the front steps she turned.
The Range Rover was still there.
Malik waited until she unlocked the front door and disappeared safely inside before driving away.
From the upstairs window, Miss Claudette had seen everything.
When Zara entered the apartment, she found her standing in the hallway with folded arms.
"Nice car."
Zara sighed.
"It was raining."
"Mmm."
"He gave me a lift home."
"Mmm."
"That's all."
Miss Claudette studied her face for a long moment.
"Did you enjoy talking to him?"
Zara hesitated.
"...Yes."
"Did he make you feel uncomfortable?"
"No."
"Did he make you laugh?"
A reluctant smile appeared.
"...Yes."
Miss Claudette nodded.
"Then remember this."
"What?"
"A man's reputation tells you what people believe about him."
She walked back toward the kitchen before finishing her thought.
"His character tells you who he is when nobody's watching."
Later that night, Zara stood by her bedroom window, watching rainwater trickle down the glass.
Her phone buzzed.
Malik: Thanks for trusting me enough to accept the ride.
She stared at the message.
Then replied.
Zara: Thank you for proving I wasn't wrong to.
She placed the phone on her bedside table.
Outside, Brooklyn glistened beneath the streetlights.
For the first time since arriving in New York, Zara wasn't thinking about what she'd left behind.
She was thinking about what might lie ahead.
And somehow...
That felt even more frightening.
End of Chapter Six.