“Things are”—she bows her head, voice small—“whatever they are. We’re trying to work through it.”
I wonder how does one work through someone cheating on them. For me, it’s a dead stop to any relationship. “Has he finally admitted to cheating?” Healing couldn’t happen without the truth laid out. “I mean, do you know everything?”
“He doesn’t need to admit to anything.” She tilts her head, fiddling with her side braid. “His eyes say it all.”
Her insecurity bothers me, tightening a knot in my stomach. The things she says, the stuff she puts up with, it’s so unlike her. “Are you getting couple’s therapy or something?”
“No. We’re doing this ourselves.”
I frown, knowing sadly that Taylor is probably pushing this whole thing under the rug. “Well, that’s good, I guess.” I pause to consider what to say to her. Having no advice but to leave him, I go with what truly matters to me. “And you? How are things for you? Feeling a bit better?”
“I’m getting there.” She gives a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
My chest squeezes and I look away to avoid her, when I notice on the stove’s clock that I have five minutes to get downstairs. “Listen, babe, I gotta go. I’ll call you later and tell you how things go tonight.”
“Every. Single. Detail.”
“You know I will.” I blow her a kiss through the iPad.
When the screen goes blank, I leave my iPad on the couch and grab my black shawl and clutch on the way out, locking the door behind me. Within minutes, I’m exiting the elevator and passing by the security guard, until I make it outside. The wind whooshes by me, and I wrap my shawl around my shoulders, finding a sleek black Bentley waiting by the curb. A tall man, wearing a black T-shirt and cargo pants, waits for me by the passenger-side door.
“Good evening, Miss Parker.” The rugged man with a five o’clock shadow offers a smile that seems genuine, yet lacks warmth. “I need to get you into the car quickly. Paparazzi followed me for a good quarter mile before I lost them. Let’s not take any chances, shall we?”
That got my ass moving. In a second flat, I’m in the car with the blacked-out windows. When the driver joins me, shutting the door behind him, I say, “Thank you for that.” I guess I should thank Micah, too. So far, his promises are upheld and that makes me smile and relax a little.
The driver glances at me in the rearview mirror. “It’s not a problem, ma’am.”
Okay, the ma’am is weird but I can only assume he’s former military. He’s got that vibe. There’s strength and wisdom in his round copper eyes. Like he’s seen a lot of things I wouldn’t want to see. I lean forward, offering my hand through the seats. “It’s a pleasure to meet you…”
His brows rise. Clearly, my personal gesture surprises him, but he recovers quickly. His large, rough, calloused hand closes around mine. “Levi Ward, ma’am.”
Once I settle into my seat and secure my seatbelt, he drives off, heading toward the Financial District. I take in the busy road and the people going about their night, but who am I kidding? I’m curious about the man who’s driving me around. I wonder if knowing more about Levi will let me know more about Micah. “How long have you worked for Micah?” I ask.
“For about five years now, ma’am.”
I cross my legs with a laugh, feeling the rich, smooth leather seat beneath my bare thighs. “You really don’t have to call me ma’am. Allie works.”
“It’s an old military habit, ma’am.” He smirks.
I shake my head at his dancing eyes, but I’m glad my instincts about him are sharp. “Have you always been a driver?”
Levi turns the car to the right, heading down California Street. “No, not always. I did two tours in Iraq, then worked for the Secret Service for a short time before moving into the private security sector.”
I perk up at that. “You left the Secret Service to work for Micah?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Interesting. “Can I ask why?”
Levi stops the car at the red streetlight. His eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror again. “I had one child at the time, and another on the way, and I have a wife who deserves all I can give her.”
“Ah, so the pay was better?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I smile at Levi. The world could use more men like him, even if the ma’am really began to annoy me. Here’s a guy who doesn’t want money for selfish reasons. He wants money to provide for his family. Very respectable. “I can only imagine that Micah has you at his beck and call, so it’s good he takes care of you.”
The car slows, the purr of the engine softening. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him, ma’am.”