Page 25 of Contracted

I only had to wait ten minutes before the agency’s white sedan glided to a stop at the side of the road. The driver stepped out to open my door, and I smiled at him and said, “Thanks Mickey.”

“Any time, Delilah.” He cocked his gray-haired head to the side as I slid into the backseat. “Are you okay?”

I giggled tiredly at the Déjà vu, then lied and said, “I’m fine, thanks for asking.”

He nodded, though a deep crease marked his already craggy face. “You could do with some rest.”

Had he and Sinead been drinking from the same fountain or something?

I leaned back in my seat. “I intend to.”

He shut my door and walked around the car before he claimed the driver’s seat. Seconds later he moved the sedan back into the stream of traffic.

I was about as numb as I’d ever been as I closed my eyes. I didn’t reopen them again until forty minutes or so later when the car slowed, then stopped in front of my apartment building.

The driver opened my door and I climbed out with a grateful smile. “Thanks Mickey.” I opened my clutch bag and gave him a handful of big bills. He’d been raising his two young grandsons alone after his single-mother daughter had tragically drowned in a boating accident. “Make sure you treat yourself.”

His eyes widened, then glimmered wetly. “That isn’t necessary—”

“But it is,” I interjected. “This is my last chance to show you how much I appreciate what you’ve done for me and the other agency girls, and for those boys you took on.”

“My grandsons are my pride and joy.”

I smiled, though sadness tempered my happiness. If only I’d experienced that same love and devotion from my stepmother. I leaned close and admitted, “It’s not official yet, but I’m retiring from the business.”

“You are?” At my nod he said thickly, “I’m going to miss you, Delilah. Out of all the girls, you’ve always been my favorite.”

“And you’ve always been my favorite driver. “

His chuckle pierced the noise of the traffic. “That’s because I’m the only driver.”

I winked. “Look after yourself, Mickey.”

“You too, Delilah.”

I gave him a quick hug, then stepped toward my building without looking back. I was getting good at that.

I rode the elevator up to the tenth floor, then stepped out into the faded-carpeted corridor, where I turned left and unlocked my door. I stepped inside, my appreciative gaze drifting around the small space that I’d made my own.

The white kitchen was counterbalanced by a teal backsplash, the white walls offset by the walnut-stained floorboards. There were also pops of color here and there, with teal cushions and throws on my big, white sofa and armchairs, and in the teal, navy-blue and white zigzag mat on the floor. Green lacy ferns in big copper pots gave the space some life.

A pity I didn’t get to see it often enough.

That was about to change, though.

Dropping my clutch bag onto one of the three rattan bar stools, I headed straight to the shower. Standing under the hot spray, I scrubbed my body of any lingering scent that reminded me of Serafino. I needed to wipe him from my mind and move onto my next plan.

I was looking forward to making a new career that didn’t involve sex...or a mobster who could so easily rip my heart out of my chest.

After drying myself and dragging on a flannelette nightie, I pushed my feet into sheepskin slippers—ah...bliss—then headed back through my bedroom and into the lounge room, straight to my corner bar.

Despite the early hour I badly needed a whiskey. It would be 9.00 PM somewhere in the world. Selecting an aged bottle from the top glass shelf, I poured a decent splash into a crystal tumbler, then swallowed the alcohol down with a sigh.

It was the little luxuries that reminded me how very lucky I was.

I didn’t need Serafino in my life.

That my good mood instantly dimmed wasn’t something I was ready to face. Not yet. Sleep was beckoning, and I couldn’t wait to lose myself to unconsciousness.

---