Page 5 of Say I Do

After a few seconds, he pulls away from the curb. “You have the hotel address in there, right?” I’m not used to ordering a car, butthere was no way I was taking a bus with all this stuff. I put in my destination when I made the request.

“Hotel?” the man says. His voice is deep and almost familiar.

“Well, maybe it’s considered a motel? I’m not sure. I never understood the difference, but I do know that motels are normally cheaper.” The driver rolls to a stop at the light. “You have the address, right?” When he doesn't respond, I repeat my question.

He’s not too chatty. I get it. I bet he has to talk to people all day. I know some people aren't a fan of that. I actually enjoy it. My apartment gets lonely, but I can’t do the roommate thing again. That was a nightmare. Which is saying a lot because there’s not much I can’t deal with. I grew up in the foster system. I am used to dealing with difficult situations.

“Gabriella, I can’t take you to a motel.” The deep voice breaks me from my thoughts. Wait a second. It can't be. I know that voice, but it’s not possible.

“Caleb?”

The dome light illuminates, and to my surprise, Caleb turns halfway to reveal his face.

“Holy cow.” What are the odds? "Are you a driver at night?" I would have never pegged him for this job. Times must be rough in the corporate world. I'm not exactly sure what Caleb does, but I do know that he wears custom suits and works in a shiny, big building around the corner from the coffee shop.

Now that I take in the interior of the SUV, I notice how swanky it is. It even smells expensive. My trash bags and dented luggage look obnoxious in the space.

"If you need the money, why don't you pawn the watch?" I ask when he doesn’t respond. His eyebrows only furrow in confusion. “Oh, is it sentimental? I’m sorry. I shouldn't have said that. It was rude.” I’m always sticking my foot in my mouth.

“I’m not a driver. Well, I drive, but I don’t do it for a living.”

“Right,” Duh, that’s plain stupid to think. “But—” I glance back to where he’d picked me up from. “Did I get in the wrong car!?" I gasp.

“Not the wrong car if you ask me.” As the light changes to green, Caleb switches off the dome light. He starts driving again.

“Wait, where are we going? I have to go back. I have a car coming,” I protest.

“I can drive you.”

“Really?”

“Of course I can.” I can’t help but smile. See, he’s always so freaking nice.

“That’s really kind of you.” He grunts a response. “Let me find the address again. This is all so last second. I got kicked out of my place abruptly,” I tell him. “Also, I was fired! Can you believe that? I suppose I won't be seeing you around much anymore,” I ramble on.

I often do that with him. I don’t know if it’s because he makes me nervous, but in a fun shy way, or if I’m trying to fill the silence because he doesn’t talk as much as I do. Plus, he once told me he enjoyed the sound of my voice. He might change his mind if he heard me sing.

“I can give you a job.” I stop fiddling with my phone, which is still being a pain in the rear.

“You’d give me a job?”

“If you want.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“Just like that?” I snap my fingers.

“Just like that,” he parrots.

“But you don’t even know my skill set beyond making coffee.”

“Anything can be learned.”

“You’re really sweet. Has anyone ever told you that before?” There aren’t a lot of great men out there these days. At least in my experience, but my luck is terrible.

“No one has ever told me that before.” He chuckles.

“But in all seriousness, I only have a high school diploma.” College wasn’t in the cards for me. I think I might have liked it. Or maybe not, if it is anything close to high school ‘cause that majorly sucked. “I did take a few college courses in high school, though,” I add. “Not that I did very well in them,” I admit. He’s been so kind to me that I want to make sure he knows what he’s getting himself into.

“You’re always so honest.”

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