the rear window mirror
I woke up early and packed my bag. My closet was so basic these days; jeans, t-shirts, and a couple of casual dresses. Surely not fancy enough to impress the Rothschild family.
It is what it is, and I’m not here to impress anybody, I thought while looking at my hands.
Thinking that two months ago, I was happy and engaged. I didn’t see the same girl in the mirror anymore.
Instinctively, I touched the finger where my engagement ring used to be. I felt my stomach twist. I just hate men. I will never be able to trust again.
I should just sell that ring and pay those installments to the bank; it’s not like he is coming back for it anyway.
My problems were far bigger, and selling a stupid ring will not start to fix them. Lost in my thoughts, I checked the time.
The driver was late, very late, almost two hours. Maybe this was a sign, maybe Sarah changed her mind, and I would be able to continue my pity party this Christmas alone. I was beginning to check if I had any wine bottles left when I heard a knock on the door.
“Ollie,” a deep man’s voice emerged behind the door. “I’m here to pick you up.”
At last, the chauffeur my sister sent had arrived. I opened the door and my jaw dropped instantly.
A tall, well-dressed, candyman, stood in front of me. Better dressed than any model on a Vogue Cover let's clarify that. His gray sharp eyes and manly features were so captivating that my heart skipped a beat.
He looked like a Greek god with his olive skin and dark hair. Clean and shaved, soft like a baby’s butt.
I focused my eyes on him, but he? He just stood there staring at my apartment, almost as if he was expecting a cockroach to jump at him at any moment.
Is he looking at the wall leak I have on my roof? The disgust on his face made me feel so uncomfortable.
I cleared my throat and opened my eyes in annoyance. He turned to look at me and to my surprise, his eyes traveled from my face to my chest and my feet. That look on his face made me feel naked.
Did he just check me out?!
“Ollie, my name is... ″ he started to say when my phone rang, interrupting him.
Instinctively, I looked at the screen and read Roger.
I stayed there frozen as I kept looking at the screen. My fucking, cheating, liar, thief, piece of a shit ex-boyfriend. Roger, The man who broke my heart and my wallet.
Should I answer? I felt a sudden coldness hit my body as if a gray cloud swallowed me up.
No, no, no, don’t answer.
I didn’t have time for this shit, I thought I already passed the depressing stage by now, but I couldn’t help to think how delightful it would be to hear his voice.
I swallowed hard. I’m not going to cry? Am I? My hand went to my mouth and I felt the tears ready to leave my eyes. My mind was so out of control.
Focus on rage. Rage is better than sadness, I repeated to myself like a mantra.
The audacity of Roger had no limits. How does he have the balls to call me? The idea of him wanting even more from me made me switch from sadness to dementia? This was another level of rage.
Fierce anger took over my body and I was boiling my head was about to burst as all this time I’ve been holding my breath. I felt my heart pound faster and even my eye started having that weird tic.
I must have looked like a freak, because I saw the driver’s expression when he stepped back, away from me. Verbal vomit started to flow in the presence of the stranger at my door.
“Mother fucker”, I said out loud looking at the phone. I twisted my knuckles and cried out to the ceiling. THIS MOTHER FUUUCKER! I yelled in wrath.
After the episode, I breathed two times, straighten my hair, pulled my phone back into my pocket, and stared at the driver.
He must think I’m nuts.
He was staring at me blankly, almost like he was studying me? I felt like a lab rat.
Surely, I was the craziest woman he had ever met, a different type of species. Well, thinking it twice maybe he was used to this shit as a chauffeur, rich people are weird.
“You are late.” I stormed at him, picking my bags and passing by. I left him standing alone at the door’s threshold.
I was beginning to go down the stairs when I turned, and found him there, on the same spot, not entirely understanding what was happening. His intense look, marking an uncomfortable tension between us.
I raise my eyebrow, “Aren’t you coming? Close the door” I snapped a finger at him to make him flinch and continued my way down along the stairs. The driver passed me and he didn’t even offer to help me with my bags.
What a douchebag. I expected a little bit more hospitality from someone who worked for the Rothschilds.
I followed him until we reached the car. Obviously, he wasn’t going to help me put the bags on the truck.
“Well, are you getting in?“, he said. I snapped out of my thoughts and met his gaze; I couldn’t help but blush. He was really hot now I just hated all men.
“My bags”, I managed to say. I heard a click as the truck opened.
He surely will get fired, but then I thought maybe someone kept him around just because he was a yummy piece of cake.
Uhh, perhaps Mrs. Rothschild is a very naughty billionaire or Mr. Rothschild? I didn’t judge.
I smirked, and he asked, “What is so funny?”
“Nothing,” I blurted out, blushing even more, and quickly went to put my bag in the truck when a teenager bumped into me. Well into my boobs!
“Watch it PUNK!”I pushed the kid away without success. A second later the kid threw a beverage at my face and ran away.
“Ahhh”, I gasped. I felt wet and sticky, a thick green liquid was all over my hair, face, and white turtle neck.
Please don’t be a smoothie, please don’t be a smoothie.
I tasted it and it tasted like spinach. “EWW!” I screamed, shaking, and spitting in the street. I just hated salad so much, that this was unbearable.
Fucking teenager from hell!
The driver’s face let me know how horrible the collision was, his mouth shaped in a U. I know I looked like one of the kid’s victims from the Home alone movie.
“You better not ride in the front seat”, he said seriously.
The fuck? What does he mean? People with a chauffeur always sit in the back.
“Honestly, I couldn’t care less,” I said bitterly. I just want to get this over with and end this nightmare. We don’t have time, so I guess I’ll change in the car.
I’ll just tell him not to look, after all, he is just an employee, it’s not like he can tell the Rothschild things that matter about me. I slid myself into the car with my bags and felt the luxurious leather.
The interior of the car was warm and cozy. This is so nice. It’s just how luxury feels like; I could get used to this, I thought.
I pressed the button to move the window up and I heard his annoyance, “ Could you please don’t? You smell like a salad”.
Oh, I’m really starting to hate this guy.
Is he really expecting all the travel with the windows down? He was looking at me from the rearview mirror. I put my hand like a crazy person for him to look at.
“ Could you just shush? “, I said, mimicking a duck with my hand.
I watched as his jaw clenched. Wishing I got his nerve this time. I haven’t shushed anybody since the 11th grade.
“I’m going to change my clothes if you don’t mind.”, I continued, opening my bag and taking out a green short sleeve, mini cotton dress.
Yes, this will do. The relaxed look vanished when he saw the dress and I watched his eyes get wider.
”If you take a look... I will murder you”, I gave him my best death glare and stared at him for a minute. He looked away and continued driving.
I made sure he didn’t look back, and then I knew I was good to go. I started to take out my turtle neck and dry my face and hair with a towel that I carried on my bag, cleaning the green smoothie. I gave a glance but he was ignoring me.
I started taking out my shoes and jeans and I couldn’t help but feel a little cold. I was in my underwear now, it was a white lace set and I felt so slutty. My white bra was moist in the green thick liquid and it looked so disgusting.
How will I take that stain out? I can’t put the dress on top of this. I looked back, and he was still looking at the road.
Well, it’s now or never.
I felt the adrenaline pump as I quickly undid my bra, freeing the nipple in the car. Knowing that he could find me naked made me feel very naughty and hot.
What is wrong with you Ollie? Focus!
Without looking at the rearview mirror, I closed my eyes and pulled the dress on my naked torso as fast as I could.
He better not be looking.
I felt like he did but I was not sure. Something in me tightened as I felt the tension in the car. I pulled my eyes up and saw his wicked smirk through the rear window.
He was almost smiling. A sudden urge to punch him got me badly.
His eyes locked with mine and I felt so shy I wanted to break the eye contact but I was not going to give my power away like some submissive girl. Instead, I hold his gaze, handling those sharp gray eyes.
Are we in a staring contest?
I did my best poker face and raised my eyebrows at him. Try to intimidate someone else, fuckboy. His pupils were so dilated, they look black and dangerous, almost like an animal. It made me feel like I was his prey.
What the hell is happening? Am I having a dirty moment with the chauffeur?
My heart was at full speed. I was in some kind of spell as my eyes widened when he licked his lips without breaking eye contact.
So manly and dominant. I couldn’t hold his gaze anymore, I had to look away. Left red-faced I pulled my eyes down and stared at my hands. This is wrong on so many levels.