Page 24 of Bestie's Bossy Billionaire Brother
“I just got done with a photography gig,” I tell her. “I’m on my way home now.”
“Are you still working with Oliver?”
I clear my throat. “He gave me the okay to do the gig. That way, I won’t lose my connections while I’m nannying.”
“That’s good. You know, honey, I’ve been thinking—” Mom continues, but I interrupt her.
“Sorry, Mom, can we talk about this later? I’m driving, and traffic is getting bad,” I say, trying to end the conversation quickly.
“Okay, dear. Just be careful driving. Call me when you get home.”
I end the call and focus on the road ahead. My thoughts return to getting home on time for Oliver’s meeting.
As I approach my exit, the traffic clears out. I breathe a sigh of relief and put my foot on the pedal, pushing it to the floor.
Suddenly, my car jolts and slows down.
“Shit,” I whisper as I throw on my signal and pull over to the side of the road. I can already tell that something is wrong with my car; there’s a strange smell coming from under the hood and my dashboard lights are going haywire.
I try to restart it, but nothing happens. I take a deep breath and call roadside service.
“Hello?” a woman answers. “What seems to be the problem?”
“Hi, my car broke down,” I inform her.
“Let me pull up your location,” she says, the sound of typing coming through over the phone. “I just sent a tow truck on the way, but since you’re in a secluded area, it might take a while before they can pick you up.”
I furrow my brows. “How long?”
“Thirty minutes to an hour,” she replies.
“Thanks,” I say and hang up with a sigh.
I bury my face in my hands and groan. This isn’t good.
Realizing I don’t have a choice, I hesitantly grab my phone to give Oliver a call.
Memories of Jason’s harsh responses in such situations make my stomach twist with anxiety. He always found a way to make everything seem like my fault, like I was a burden. Shaking the thoughts away, I pull up Oliver’s contact, hoping this won’t be a repeat of the past.
“Hey, where are you?” he asks, answering after the first ring. His tone is laced with worry, a stark contrast to the annoyance Jason would have exuded had I interrupted his afternoon with such an inconvenience.
“Hey, Oliver. I’m not too far from the house, but I’m sorry, my car broke down,” I say. “A tow truck won’t be coming for another hour, apparently.”
“Oh, that’s not good. I’ll come get you. Text me your location,” he tells me and hangs up before I can reply.
I do as he says, then rest my head against my seat. Why, of all days, does this have to happen?
Within minutes, Oliver’s black luxury SUV pulls up in front of my car.
I furrow my brows. As soon as I get out of my car, he opens the passenger door for me and smirks, “How did you break down your car?”
I roll my eyes at him. “It’s not as if I deliberately wanted this to happen,” I mutter under my breath. “You’re going to be late for your meeting. Why don’t you just go on ahead? A tow truck is on its way.”
He waves me away. “Don’t worry about it. I found someone to look after Alice for a little longer. Let’s get you home first.”
I climb into the passenger seat of his car. As he starts the engine, I groan, feeling guilty that he drove all the way out here to pick me up.
He notices the worried expression on my face and breathes out a laugh. “Don’t worry, I already let my secretary know I’m running behind. Everything is fine.”
