I routinely set the thermostat low to save some money. So that’s a no. But I make a quick plan.
I’ll go out.
First I’ll go shopping. Groceries mostly. And then something nice for me. A Christmas gift. Yes. Why not? And then I’ll eat at a restaurant.
And then, I’ll go home.
I call the driver and tell him what I’ve planned for tonight. He has no opinion either way. I’m not paying him. Kai does. And I have a feeling he pays him overtime.
It’s good for his wallet, and it’s good for me. At least I’m not entirely alone this evening.
The cleaning crew enters the firm just as I slide my coat on. I put on my gloves, pick up my purse and my phone and walk out before they start cleaning the place.
I can’t believe I’m the last one to leave.
Everybody else is gone. Robert Walker included.
I take the elevator down, my gaze tilted up, trained on the light moving across the floor numbers.
Soon, I walk outside.
The streets are empty this time of day, especially on a Friday. Especially in the winter.
Most people are on their way home. Or they are late shoppers like me. Or eat out. Or are in no hurry to go home and end up in a bar because the idea of being in a quiet space at home makes them go crazy.
I walk through a curtain of snow before climbing into the limo.
After long negations with my driver, I have established a few rules. One of them is not holding the door open for me. Exceptions apply. But most of the time, I want to do it alone.
It feels pretentious to have someone jump out of the car whenever I enter or exit the limousine.
Plus, I want him to leave as soon as I slide into the back seat and not have him exposed to the oncoming traffic.
The second rule is. No questions asked. I’ve done weird things these past few weeks. I wanted to go someplace. Then I changed my mind. I messed a lot with times and places.
He knows me by now.
And third. And this is not a request. I love when he buys coffee for himself and gets me a cup too, and I’m always in need of a hot cup of coffee.
Like now.
I enter the car, shielding my face from the flurries, and the interior already smells like coffee.
He hands me my cup after I slide in and drop my coat next to me.
“Thank you.”
I take it and sip the hot drink. It smells like Christmas. Medium roast coffee and a butterscotch toffee flavor.
It’s slightly sweet.
“Where to?” he asks, meeting my eyes in the mirror.
“Fifth Avenue.”
He nods, and the car slides away.
I relax in the back seat as we navigate the snowy streets of Manhattan. Garlands of flickering lights adorn the trees, the entrances to the buildings, the windows, and the stores.