Chapter 4. #2
Brian's heart went out to her. This was not a business transaction to her.
This was a moral dilemma, a conflict between her desires and her beliefs.
He stood and shook her hand, a final, respectful gesture.
"I understand," he said. "There are a few more people I need to talk to.
Please expect a call later today about our decision. "
She looked him in the eyes, and she already knew. She did not get the job. A shadow of disappointment crossed her face, but she held her head high and walked out, her back straight. Constance looked at him, and he shook his head. "That will not work." She smiled and nodded.
"Do we own any art studios?" he asked. Constance's smile widened. "Four here in LA."
"Give her a job there. She likes fine arts.
" Constance's face was filled with pride.
Even though he could not offer the girl the driver's position, he would still do something for her.
It was a simple act of kindness, a reminder of the man he was before the money.
"Make sure she is paid fairly and comfortably," he said.
Constance was already on the phone as she walked out, the words of his order already being carried out.
There was another knock, and in walked Holly with the next applicant, a young woman in her mid-twenties with long black hair and a pair of dark black eyes.
She was an Asian beauty, her face a perfect, porcelain work of art.
He was mesmerized by her, the woman sitting across from him.
Her name was Adria Lee, and in his eyes, she was perfect.
Her long, black hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a face that was a work of art, with dark, intelligent eyes that sparkled with humor and intelligence.
She liked driving, and her humor was top-notch.
"I know there are a lot of stereotype jokes about Asian drivers, especially female Asian drivers," she said, a playful smirk on her lips. "But none of them have ever seen me drive."
Brian smiled. He was already captivated.
"My father, while not Asian, but a combat officer, and a farmer," she continued, "taught me to drive when I was fourteen.
I drove the truck on the farm when they needed help.
The tractor when I was fifteen." Her words painted a picture of a strong, independent woman who was not afraid of hard work.
"And then, when I moved to LA, I drove a limousine for the rich and famous for a local limo company. "
"And the job requirements," he asked, a touch of genuine curiosity in his voice, "have you been told of those?"
She smirked again, a knowing look in her eyes.
"Yes, sir. Miss Holly told me. And I have followed the news.
I know there was a leak, and it had to be the driver who had that information…
the fact that you had just arrived and had only been in the limousine by then.
" She paused, her voice dropping to a low, confidential murmur.
"And while it is nobody's business who you fuck or receive favors from, I will admit I am hoping as your personal driver I will be among those who are part of it.
And I will never tell a soul about anything I see or hear. "
Brian's heart hammered in his chest. This woman was not just offering to be his driver; she was offering to be his accomplice, his confidante, his partner in a world of secrets and desires.
"Sir, if you have me drive down Figueroa Street to pick up a few women to fuck, I will never tell a soul.
" She looked at him, his confusion clear on his face, and she laughed, a light, musical sound.
"Sorry, sir, I thought everyone knew. Figueroa Street is famous for being the street where the hookers and girls hang out to make money. "
He smirked. "While I do like sex," he said, his voice laced with a playful humor, "I do not think I will be looking for girls in that area. But thank you for letting me know you will be discreet."
She smiled, a radiant, triumphant expression. He stood and shook her hand again, his touch lingering for a moment. "Thank you, Adria. I will make sure we call you later with our decision."
She smiled and nodded, her eyes, filled with hope, meeting his. Then she walked out, her confidence a tangible presence in the room. Brian looked at Holly. She smiled, a soft, approving look on her face. "She is perfect, sir," she whispered.
Brian had to admit, she was. But there were still two more applicants, and in his mind, unless Scarlett Johansson stepped through that door and offered herself to him, he would hire Adria.
---
The next two girls, while beautiful, were both lacking in the humor and a certain desirable willingness that Brian was looking for.
He leaned back in his chair, a sense of quiet frustration settling over him.
He was tired of interviewing, tired of the pretense, and he was ready to make a decision.
There was another knock on the door, a soft, polite sound that was at odds with the noise of his mind.
"Yeah," he called out, his voice a little gruff.
The door opened, and in walked a very beautiful woman.
She was in her thirties, with short, dark brown hair that framed an elfin face.
Her eyes were a deep, intelligent brown, and she had a sexy, knowing smile that was a world away from the polite smiles he had been receiving all morning.
She was wearing a pristine white chef's coat, a stark contrast to the black and gray of his office.
"Mr. Thomson," she said, her voice a low, melodic purr with a hint of a French accent.
She walked to the desk, her movements graceful and confident.
He stood up and, as if on instinct, walked around the desk to greet her. He took her hand, and it was soft and warm in his. "You have me at a disadvantage here," he said, a touch of genuine curiosity in his voice.
She smiled, a slow, sensual curve of her lips. "Dominique La'Cure," she said, her accent a delightful, arousing melody. "Miss Dranning said you would hear my offer."
He smiled, a genuine, delighted expression. "I guess I have you to thank for the excellent steak I had last night and the perfect breakfast this morning."
She smiled and nodded, her eyes twinkling with a shared secret.
"Yes, sir. Your kitchen is stocked with everything you could desire.
Of course, you can request whatever you want served, and I will do all I can to accommodate you should you hire me.
" Her words were a formal, professional offer, but the look in her eyes, the smile on her lips, was anything but.
He smiled. He had already made his decision. "Mrs. La'Cure, while I have only known Anita for a single day, I will take her recommendation. You are hired."
Her smile widened, a triumphant, joyful expression. "I know she also told you I am married," she said, her voice a little softer, a little more intimate. Brian nodded. "She did, and I want to assure you I respect that."
Her hand, she had held in front of herself, came over and found his, her fingers tracing a soft, arousing line on his skin.
"Mrs. Dranning does not know all of it," she whispered, her voice a low, confidential murmur.
"While I am married, I will be available, sir.
I was for Ty, but then again, he was quite forceful.
It was a matter of letting him do it or losing my job.
" Her words were a confession, a glimpse into a life he couldn't possibly imagine, a world of power and coercion.
He looked into her eyes, and a deep, righteous anger welled up inside him.
"Dominique, I will never do that," he said, his voice a low, fierce promise.