8. Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
Jane had waited for Miss Sheridan to stop this charade, and when she didn’t, she walked outside with the driver, Eddie. That was his name. He’d driven Mr. and Mrs. Sheridan in the past, and she’d thought she’d heard them call him by name. This year she’d listened more carefully and heard Jacquelyn Sheridan confirm it. Young men did not cross her path all that often, so she took note of it. This one was handsome, with neatly parted hair and good manners. He had a kindly countenance as well.
Up close, the black Rolls-Royce was a showstopper, long and sleek. Oh, it would be heaven to sit inside it, even for a minute. Eddie opened the back door for her, and she slid into place. The gray leather upholstery had some give to it, making it a comfortable seat. She set the paper bag on the floor at her feet, careful not to crush the four leftover candy canes. It had occurred to her to leave them with Mary, but there was no good way to divide them among the group, so she left them in the bag and took them with her.
Eddie closed the door and went around to the other side, getting into the driver’s seat. Jane stared out her window, waiting for Miss Sheridan to come bursting out the door, putting an end to this joke. She was starting to feel uncomfortable for having gone along with this, but what choice did she have? Miss Sheridan had insisted and had specifically said she would be the one to say when to quit, that Jane should just play the part until that happened. Feeling her heart begin to race, she exhaled audibly.
Eddie looked over his shoulder. “It’s going to be cold for a few minutes. We have to wait for the heat to kick in.”
A heater? How fancy. “This is a Rolls-Royce?”
“I know it’s a Rolls-Royce.” Eddie sounded annoyed. “But you still have to wait for the heat. It doesn’t magically show up just because you’re cold.” He drove away from the building and down the drive.
Jane craned her neck to look back at the home. How far did Miss Sheridan want to take this? She sank back in her seat and took a few breaths. Should she say something? Her heart sank, making a knot in her stomach. Finally, she came out with it. “I’m not who you think I am,” she said, her voice raised over the sound of the engine.
Eddie laughed. “Oh, I know who you are. Believe me.”
“Really?” Now she was confused.
“Let’s not talk anymore. Remember? A quiet ride would be best. ”
His voice had an edge to it. She had such limited experience dealing with men that she wasn’t sure if he was angry or just being formal. One thing was certain: it wasn’t her place to contradict him.