Page 4

Rachel

“Are you ready, Rachel? You’ve barely touched any of your burger,” Mr Geller said, pulling my attention away from the trees.

I was clinging to them, hoping for a wisdom they would never whisper to me.

I thought the dinging of the bell earlier had meant I was safe, that they didn’t know who I was.

But ever since then, there was a sinister atmosphere in the air, almost choking me with how thick it was.

And that sinister presence only wanted me. I had felt eyes on me ever since.

It was intense. Uncomfortable even.

“Rachel?” Mr Geller pressed me, and I forced myself to get it together.

“What? Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m not hungry.”

“It’s a long flight, and you know how vile aeroplane food is. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Absolutely.” I beamed a huge smile at him.

“I was just lost in thought. You know I’m a nervous flyer,” I reminded him.

I had used this excuse every time we had boarded a plane, so that I didn’t have to sit next to him.

I sat next to Joseph, who took the window seat, and Mr and Mrs Geller took their seats in the row in front of us.

He had tried to convince me that a boy needed his mother during the flights, and I should sit next to him to keep him company.

I had almost laughed out loud. Mrs Geller had looked horrified at the mere thought of having to sit next to her child, of the prospect of keeping him occupied for so many hours.

“Besides,” I added. “It looks as though the main man has had his fill. So long as he’s nice and full up, I’m good to go,” I grinned at Joseph, making him laugh as I bopped him on the nose with a wipe whilst cleaning the sauce off his face.

“He’s still not brought the bill, James,” Mrs Geller reminded him as he hurried to gather up all our belongings.

“The man looked as though he couldn’t string two sentences together, never mind the basic math needed to calculate a bill.

He’s probably jamming his fingers into the calculator as we speak and grunting in frustration.

” He winked at me, as though we were in on this cruel joke together.

I didn’t smile back. I had seen the man in question, and I wasn’t about to fuck around and get on his bad side.

James would do well to remember he wasn’t at home right now, and though he might prance around as lord of the manor in America, he wasn’t the lord here in someone else’s establishment.

Especially not when that someone was well over 6ft, built like a God and riddled with tattoos.

Not that I had been looking. He was just hard to fucking miss.

You were looking, that annoying inner voice whispered at me. I ignored it, just like I had ignored the man’s piercing gaze. He was trouble, and I didn’t need any more trouble in my life.

“Oh, get it together, Liz!” James hissed as she wrung her hands in worry. “Chuck some money on the table and have done with it. What are they going to do? Chase us down the freeway?”

“Motorway,” I corrected before I could stop myself.

James’ lips tightened, and fury flashed in his eyes.

“Motorway. Thank you. Get him sorted,” he jerked his head at his son.

“Meet me in the car.” He got up and left, letting us know in no uncertain terms that he was done with the conversation.

As far as he was concerned, his word was law, and we should follow if we knew what was good for us.

Mrs Geller huffed and shot me a dirty look, blaming me for her husband’s temper. But she did as she was told, hurrying to pack up the rest of our stuff and clicked her fingers at me and Joseph to usher us out from the booth.

I fucking hated it when she clicked her fingers at me as though I was a dog, but I had long since learnt to put my pride aside and obey. I wouldn’t be with this family forever; they were just my safety net right now. I couldn’t afford to piss them off and leave before I was ready.

Mr Geller blasted the horn, causing Mrs Geller to jump and click her fingers even faster.

“Come, come,” she snapped, grabbing Joseph’s arm, and pulling him around to her.

“Thanks to someone,” she said pointedly.

“Your father is in a terrible mood. So, best behaviour. We wouldn’t want to anger him any further.

Understood?” I rolled my eyes. She couldn’t have made that any more obvious if she tried.

Joseph nodded his head, and when she looked my way, I did the same, forcing myself to have an apologetic expression on my face. There was no point arguing.

James was like this all the time. He hated to be questioned, and he hated to be corrected even more.

Especially in front of his wife. He had a powerful position in his workplace, and he thought that power extended everywhere else as well.

He was the boss at home; he was the boss of his family, and since his family was here, the location didn’t matter.

He was simply the boss. He ruled as far as he was concerned.

It was ridiculous, really, as I had never seen a man look less powerful.

His money bought fear, and fear bought power.

He was as manipulative as he was cunning, and the working world back in America knew this.

They knew not to cross him, because James had connections.

Connections only money could buy. He used his means to get what he wanted, and that, in turn made him a very powerful man.

But he wasn’t a powerful looking man. And sometimes he seemed to forget that not everybody played by the rules of the business world.

The server, on the other hand – he had looked like a powerful man.

I didn’t usually turn around to address people who approached the family.

It wasn’t my place. I was the au pair, not the main party.

My job was to blend into the background and keep Joseph in line.

The two of us were invisible. But something about that man had shifted the air around me, and I could no more keep myself from looking at him than the sun could keep itself from rising.

One look was all I needed. He was a powerful man, and he didn’t need to flash the cash or rely on his associates to prove it.

James was laughable in comparison.

The man was fucking huge. It was actually overwhelming how huge he was.

He seemed to take up every inch of space, sucking all the oxygen out of the air.

He made the room close in, until it was just us, boxed into this tiny corner.

It shocked me to realise that it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant feeling.

His arms were the size of my legs, and huge arms were always my downfall. My porn history was filled with me searching for men with arms that could snap me in half.

Concerning? Maybe.

I was more concerned about my porn fantasy coming to life. I could see through his jacket that he was built like a house. He had the smallest hint of a beard coming through, a scar above his eyebrow, tattoos on his fingers, and the air around him screamed wild sex and a shitload of trouble.

I hadn’t allowed myself anything more than the briefest of glances. I knew straight away that the more I looked, the more I was going to be drawn to him.

But my God. Play dangerous games, win dangerous prizes, and I wanted a piece of that prize.

You can’t throw a man like that in front of a sex starved woman – whose only other option was James fucking Geller – and expect her not to have some sort of reaction.

The rebellious teenager in me reared her ugly head and reminded me I had once chased after men like that as though I was a bitch in heat.

“Wait!” the woman, who I assumed was the owner, shouted over to us as we headed towards the door. “Where are you going?”

“We’re done,” Elizabeth sniffed, her nose in the air.

“Is this a prison, or are we free to leave at will? Money is on the table. And you, young lady,” she said, pointing her finger at the poor woman.

“Should be grateful we come from a place where tipping is customary. Lord knows you haven’t earned it.

Come, Joseph. Let’s get in the car.” She ushered her son outside, and that was my cue to follow.

She tried not to address me when we were near strangers.

It wouldn’t do to converse with the staff , heaven forbid.

“But if you could just wait a moment. Dante – the man who came to your table – he wants… well, he’s only in the back. He’ll be a few more minutes if you could just—”

“Whatever he wants, we won’t be interested.

” I bit my cheek to stop myself from scoffing.

Now that James had left, Elizabeth was in charge, and she was going to let this woman know that one way or another.

She had already decided she was better than her, and she was going to put her in her place.

She would never have dared speak to a man like that, and she was only throwing her weight around because she was embarrassed at the way her husband had spoken to her – something she knew this woman had overheard.

Pride made Elizabeth particularly vicious.

Had the man actually come back out, she would have been cowering at his feet.

She knew it, I knew it, and the woman probably had a pretty good idea of it too.

It's why she wanted us out of here as quick as possible.

Elizabeth was a bully, and she was picking on someone she thought was beneath her.

She sensed weakness in the poor lady behind the bar, and she had no problem exploiting it.

She had yet to sense the same weakness in me, which is why her bullying never worked on me. It was also why she always, always reminded me that I was beneath her in rank. I was a mere employee; she was the boss.

I felt her grab hold of me and haul me out of the diner, cutting off any further thoughts.

Café , I corrected myself. I was getting as bad as James for making everything Americanised.

Although, café didn’t feel quite right for a place like this.

When I thought café, I thought tea and scones.

This place was definitely not tea and scones!

It was a truck-stop through and through, and would more likely serve afternoon AA meetings rather than afternoon tea.

“Awful place,” she said, brushing off imaginary crumbs from her clothes.

“I liked it!” Joseph piped up.

“You would,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “You think McDonald’s is the height of luxury.”

“Mrs Geller…” I began, seeing Joseph’s face fall. “He’s just a child.” I whispered to her.

“So?” she replied, looking at me as though I were mad. “He’s old enough to know decent food.” A roar of motorbikes cut off any further conversation as Joseph let out a squeal of excitement, his sadness forgotten.

“Did you hear that?” He breathed, tugging on my hand as his eyes grew wide. “Can’t we stay for a few more moments? They sound like they’re coming this way!”

“In the car, Joseph,” Elizabeth said, opening her side of the door.

“Please, Rachel! I want to see the bikes!”

I looked down at him, and then at Mrs Geller, who was drumming her fingers on the top of the car door.

“Maybe next year,” I told him.

“Why wait a year when they’re here now? Please let me see the bikes, Rachel, please!” He tried to dig his heels into the ground as I gently pushed him towards the car.

“When you’re old enough, I’ll buy you your own bike,” James shouted from the window, his anger long since forgotten since he was getting his own way.

He shot me another wink – that was two today – as though we were both the best of buddies, always joking and laughing.

I made a mental note to be curter and more formal with him going forward. That shit needed to be shut down.

I couldn’t give a flying fuck if he bought Joseph a bike.

The only reason he winked was because bikes were beneath someone of his calibre.

They were driven around in fancy cars, not flying down the freeway like hooligans.

Bikes were uncouth. Not at all suitable for the Princeton life Joseph was destined for.

“Come on, buddy,” I gave him a firmer push. “I’ll find a story about a young biker boy on my phone, and we’ll read it together on the drive. How does that sound?” I extended my hand to him.

“What if you can’t find one?” He eyed me suspiciously, but he stopped his fighting.

“Well, in that case, I’ll make one up. In fact, I think the biker boy might just be called Joseph, and he might just be the biggest, baddest biker in town. He wins all the competitions, and he gets to eat at all the McDonalds for free, since he’s just that much of a superstar celebrity racer.”

“I want to hear that story!” He squealed, jumping into the car. I climbed in behind him, closing the door with a soft slam, and shook my head at Joseph as he looked up at me with huge, expectant eyes. “You want to start now?” I laughed, and he nodded his head frantically.

He threw his arms around me and hugged me tight. “Rachel?”

“Mm?”

“You’re the best,” he whispered, and I stroked his soft hair as I began telling him the story of Joseph the Biker, King of the Racetrack.