#4: Where Are You Taking Me?

Nole wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

 I stood at the entrance of the school, dressed in my bedraggled school uniform. The collar was stiff and irritating against my sweaty neck. I had opted out of taking a shower in favor of getting food as quickly as possible.

 Around me, students were scattered around the school grounds. I lived in an influenced neighborhood, that much was obvious from all the luxurious cars rolling in and out of the school parking lot. The show of status did not sit well with me. From personal experience, most of these parents neglected their children and made up for it by purchasing a flashy car.

 My parents were that way.

 While they expected much, they rarely supported me, they were rarely there. Instead, they bought me plenty of things to make up for their absence. I didn’t want or need the things my parents purchased me, but I wasn’t about to be ungrateful. I sold most of the things my father gave me in order to save money for art utensils and create a separate account for college.

 My mother and my father thought I was going to Harvard.

 They had no idea I was planning to go to Boston to study art and join the track team.

 “Harlow.”

 I scuffed the toe of my shoe as I turned and leveled DeLuca with a cool and impassive stare. I looked around him, noticing Nole’s absence. The man was actually by himself. Even if I hadn’t known DeLuca for very long, it was strange seeing him stand solo without my brother’s bulk-like body next to him.

 “Mr. DeLuca.” I struggled to address him so respectfully, but because he insisted I call him “Roman” at dinner last week, I figured ignoring his insistence would be just as equally irritating to him.

 He was dressed in a smartly-tailored suit with a charcoal-colored tie. I wondered if the man ever relaxed. Even his posture was upright and proper. He looked too young to be consumed by the strict life of business. Even if I was required to dress in a school uniform, I pulled it off in a careless manner. It was ruffled with deep wrinkles and a few paint-stains on the trousers. The cuffs were showing and the tie was hanging uselessly around my neck. My mother would go senseless if she saw my appearance.

 “Roman,” he corrected, stepping closer. “Your brother had something come up. I agreed to take you out for your honorary dinner.”

 Pushing the deep disappointment away, I averted my eyes to nothing in particular and breathed deeply. Fuck, my brother’s sudden no-show shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. By now, I would have thought I’d be used to it. “Alright,” I agreed cautiously. Any other occasion I would have refused the man’s invitation, but I was starving. Even food with him sounded appealing. “Do you mind if I drive?”

 I didn’t trust him. And I wouldn’t be getting in a car with him without any control.

 He seemed to understand my logic and gave a bitter smile. “By all means, lead the way.”

 Giving him a once-over, I turned my back and led him away from the school and into the parking lot. For sprouting all the complaints about my parents, and how they liked to substitute emotional love for material love, I felt ashamed of my car.

 It was the only thing that I would allow myself to treasure. While not nearly as expensive and flashy as the other cars, it was still a treasured possession. It was a black Mercedes-AMG GT 4-door coupe, sleek, and so beautiful. It didn’t matter that it had been purchased a few days after my sixteenth birthday because my parents had forgotten about my birthday during one of their business trips.

 DeLuca raised his eyebrows, assessing the car. “Handsome car,” he praised lowly.

 Throwing my backpack in the trunk, I slammed it shut and looked over at the man. He had his hands in his pockets, looking as casual and nonchalant as someone could possibly pull off. “You like it?” I raised my eyebrows, turning my attention back on my car. “I’m selling it soon. If you’re interested, let me know.”

 And if he was buying it, I would jack the price up.

 Why not? The man even smelt of money.

 Without waiting for an answer, I climbed inside the car, reluctantly waiting for the other man to climb in the passenger seat. He was able to fall into his seat with a ridiculous amount of grace and refinery.

 “You’re getting rid of it?” he inquired skeptically. “Looking for a pricier model?”

 The insulted and ugly snort coming from my mouth was answer enough for him. Nonetheless, I decided I would give a coherent response. “No, that’s not it at all.”

 “I didn’t think this was your type of car anyway, even if it is decent eye-candy,” DeLuca continued easily, as if he couldn’t hear my insulted tone. Or maybe he was just ignoring it.

 “Oh?” I started the car and the radio began blaring. A part of me wanted to keep the volume at its current level, to drown him and any conversation attempts out. In the end, I grudgingly turned it down. If Rhys was here, he wouldn’t have minded it being loud. “And what do you think my type of car is?”

 “Your personality is coarse, untamed.” He gave a pointed look at my ruffled uniform. “I’d say you are more of a Porsche man.” Before I could snort again, this time in amusement, he continued. “Of course, you’re also laid back, nonchalant. You like to defy the rich, even if you are the rich. I’d imagine you would get something that could barely run, one that was covered with rust. Just as a bold protest against your birthright. You’d be as happy as punch.”

 I paused, staring at the windshield.

 He seemed so sure, so confident. “Well,” I started, clearing my throat and avoiding his knowing, smug expression. “I’d picture your car to be a Dodge Viper.”

 Fucking snake.

 The man laughed as we drove out of the parking lot.

 “A Viper,” DeLuca said, cocking his head to the side in cool approval. “Try a Bentley.”

 Of course, he’d have a Bentley. “Ah,” I exclaimed, “That was my second guess.”

 His lips twisted in delight at my response. “I don’t own a Bentley out of personal preference, it comes with the company.” He adjusted the seatbelt around his chest and looked at me through lowered lids. “Tell me, why are you planning on getting rid of your car?”

 My plan of staying in stony silence crumbled. DeLuca didn’t seem all that bad. Surprisingly, he was asking things about me rather than assuming. While Nole wasn’t as bad as our parents, he seemed to listen to them and was blinded by their opinion. He just…assumed. “I’m going away to college in the fall or summer,” I admitted as I turned down a busy street. “I don’t want a car on campus.”

 “Nole tells me you’re going to Harvard. But is that more of your parents’ expectations rather than your own?” DeLuca seemed to sense my reluctance to talk about the situation. “If it makes you feel more at ease, I promise I won’t tell your brother. Things discussed this evening will remain between the two of us.”

 Glancing over, I locked eyes with his dark gaze. “No, I’m not going to Harvard or Stanford or any other fucking Ivy League school.” I grinned at the road. “I’m going to attend Boston, Massachusetts.”

 “All the way across the country,” DeLuca commented tightly. His tone suggested he wasn’t very impressed with the information. “Do your parents at least have a suspicion?”

 “Of course not.” My grin widened at the very idea of informing my parents. I happened to glance in my rearview mirror, noticing two sleek cars following behind me. As I turned a corner, they followed in hot pursuit. If they were trying to subtly follow, they weren’t doing a very good job of it. “What exactly do you do again?” I asked, changing the subject.

 DeLuca glanced at the passenger mirror, surveying the two cars trailing behind. With a sigh, he offered a cool voice. “I apologize. My father owns a large business and he has security constantly guarding the members of the family. Just ignore them.” Skillfully, he changed the subject. “Where are you taking me, little Harlow?”