Page 11 of The Billionaire and His Driver
Brina sat the juice in the cupholder and then opened the silver tray. She was astounded to find bacon, sausage, eggs, English muffins. Everything she loved for breakfast. She lookedat Tex. Tex was staring at the food, and then he looked at her. “He does this?” she asked him.
Tex shook his head. “Hell nall! Never did it for Jockey. Never did it for me. And I mean ever.”
Here they were thinking she was about to be fired, and Mr. Bradshaw ordered the waiter to bring her food? “Maybe it’s my last supper,” she said.
Tex smiled, and then laughed. And in that moment, she knew she had an ally. Somehow she just knew it. “Wanna go half and half?” she asked him.
Tex didn’t get a chance to eat breakfast either. He smiled his biggest smile to date. “Hell yeah,” he said.
Brina placed a little over half of the food in the tray top and gave it to Tex. She had a fancy fork, spoon, and knife combination, but Tex said he didn’t need any utensils. His hand would do just fine. And they both ate heartily. They were laughing and talking now.
“Let me tell you something about Warren Bradshaw.”
“Warren?” Brina looked at Tex. “That man called him Ronny.”
“His full name is Warren Ronald Bradshaw. People call him by his middle name because he allegedly hates the name Warren. I’m Tex, by the way. Tex Graylin.”
“Is Tex your birth name?”
“I’m originally from Dallas. What do you think? You aren’t a Texan if you don’t have one kid named Tex,” he added, and they both laughed.
“I’m Sabrina. Sabrina Hawkins.”
“But they call you?”
“Brina. Which is okay. Or Breen, which I hate.”
“I’m not crazy about Tex either. But what can you do, right? But let me tell you something about Warren Bradshaw. That man there is no joke. I’ve seen him fire people for littleof nothing. And when I say little of nothing, Brina, I mean nothing. And a man like that didn’t fire you on the spot for your insubordination?” He nodded his head. “You got it going on with that man, little lady. You got it going on.”
Brina was already shaking her head. “I’m certain that’s not true.”
“I’m telling you what I know. Warren Bradshaw don’t give a damn about anybody but his brothers. In my opinion? He’s added you to that tiny list.”
Brina couldn’t believe he was saying that. Based on what?Breakfast? “Are you on dope? Don’t put me in that category. That’s insane. He doesn’t know me from Adam. There’s no way.”
“Okay. Don’t believe it. But I know what I’m talking about. I’ve worked for Mr. B for over ten years. I know what I know. But you’ll see,” added Tex, as he continued to eat.
Brina stared at the food. It would be remarkable if it were true, she knew, but remarkable things like that just didn’t happen to somebody like her. Bad remarkable, all the time. But good remarkable? Tex believed it was true, but Brina knew better. She started eating again, but she wasn’t joking. It could very well be her last supper as an employee, in any capacity, at Bradshaw Manor.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Inside the club, Ronny sat at the table across from Oscar Grisham, the former Governor of Oregon, and Oscar’s daughter Fallon, one of Ronny’s “lady friends.”
Oscar leaned back and dabbed the side of his mouth with the elegant napkin. “Here’s the deal,” he said in his heavy, pompous voice, his belly touching the table. “You’ve got to marry her first to prove to me you’re all in.”
Ronny kept on eating. Asking a man like him to marry Fallon or anybody else was the same to Ronny as asking him to inject himself with cancer. But his life was always a means to an end. Always. “I’m very fond of your daughter,” he said in that generic way he often spoke.
But Fallon, who could be as transactional as her father, refused to let him get away with that nonsense. “No you aren’t,” she said with bitterness in her voice. “So quit lying.”
“You aren’t all that fond of her,” Oscar said, echoing her daughter. “Let’s face it. You aren’t fond of anybody but yourself. But that’s okay. I don’t need a choirboy in the family. I need a President. And you have what it takes to be President. But as much as you want to make it so, they aren’t going to let you just ease your way up into that august house. The last businessman we had as president was an unmitigated disaster. They aren’t going to let that happen again. You’ve got to prove yourself first. You’ve got to get to the Governor’s mansion first. That’s your ticket to the top.” Oscar leaned forward and started eating again. “That’s where I come in.”
Ronny’s motives were never what people thought they were because he was never going to be a caricature of what society said he was. But his motives were his business. He let Oscar continue to blather on. “I’m the former governor of this fine state who left office with the highest approval ratings of any prior governor before me. I can get you that governorship with my daughter by your side. And then, together, you and Fallon can make it all the way to Pennsylvania Avenue. But marriage first,” Oscar added, “because I’m not in this for the hell of it. There has to be a marriage first. Now what say you?”
Oscar and Fallon both stared at Ronny. Fallon was a beautiful woman. A gorgeous girl nearly twenty years his junior. But whenever they were together it was like watching paint dry. They had nothing in common. And she wasn’t a dumb blonde either: she wasn’t that stereotype. She had a good head on her shoulders. But she, like every woman he’d ever been with, ultimately bored the shit out of him. He couldn’t wait to get them out of his bed. He’d rather eat spikes than marry any of them. Fallon included.
But his motives were never what people thought they were. “You make a compelling case,” was all he was willing to say about it. Yet another non-answer to the question.
Oscar didn’t like the answer, but was willing to play the long game with Ronny. He was worth it to him. Fallon was tired of the long game. “Why are we even bothering with this, Father? We aren’t even engaged yet. He hasn’t even given me a ring yet.”
