The Billionaire's Price (L.A. Players #1) - PREVIEW ONLY

Chapter 6 : Drive

"I apologize," Victoria said. It was stupid to lose a job because she couldn't get over the discomfort of having her employer buy her clothes. "I will do as you ask, of course."

"I wasn't asking."

"Uh, no. Of course not. Sorry."

Sebastian sighed impatiently. "You don't have to like me, Ms. Slade —"

"I didn't say —"

"But if you deliver results, I might be able to tolerate your presence in my home."

"That's... good. I guess." She smiled wryly. "Is there anything else?"

"Mrs. Sellers said you were on time today, which is a promising start," he said. "But I'd like you to tell me what you think of Benson."

"Benson is wonderful," she said, grateful for the change of subject. "He's bright and has a lot of focus. And he seems to be open to new ideas and experiences." She wanted to gush about the boy. She wanted to tell him, "He's adorable and the kind of student most teachers probably dream about," but at this point, it may only seem like she was just trying to get on his good side.

"And just what kind of ideas and experiences did you have in mind?"

She paused, thinking. "He should widen his horizons a bit. He reads a lot, but most of the books he reads are classics written by dead white men. Not that there's anything wrong with Dickens and Twain, but I'd like him to try reading some L.M. Montgomery and Yoshiko Uchida as well. And from what we've talked about, I think he'd really enjoy Jacqueline Woodson's books."

Sebastian nodded. "I'll leave that to you, then. I suppose that will be all for now." He stood up. "Will you be able to get home all right?"

Victoria stood up quickly. "Yes, I ..." She looked at her watch. One a.m. She missed her window. There wouldn't be another bus until two, she would have to wait at the bus stop for an hour. She couldn't take a cab, it wasn't going to be cheap.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Victoria assured him.

He didn't look convinced. "Shall I call you a cab?"

"No!" She winced when she realized how loudly she protested. "No, thank you." She picked up her purse from the coffee table. "I'm sure I can find one outside."

"It's late," he said. "It's a safe neighborhood, but I'd rather you not stand outside at one a.m. waiting for a ride."

"I'm taking the bus, actually."

"At this time of the night?" He didn't know much about public buses; he'd never actually had to take one.

"Oh, it'll be fine. Good night."

***

He caught up with her as she was halfway out the living room. "I'll drive you out to the main road," he said.

"What? Oh, no, that's really not necessary."

It made Sebastian feel guilty: the idea of her outside, waiting for a bus past midnight. She had to wait up this late for him to get home.

"I insist. The garage is this way."

He took the Bentley. He didn't often drive it, but it was the only convertible he owned, and he thought she might like a convertible, even if they were driving without the top down.

He wouldn't have been able to tell if she did, however. She looked nervous, and while he was used to people getting nervous around him, he wished she would relax a little. It was hard enough trying not to stare at her eyes or her body, without her looking like she would jump out of her skin if he so much as touched her hand.