Page 7 of He Falls First
I scramble to keep up as she makes a beeline for my car.
“Do you want me to call the driver?”
She runs a hand over the roof of the little Toyota Prius, then says mischievously, “Now, why would I want to bring one of Frye’s snitches?”
“Uh…”
He did say not to leave without permission. But he didn’t say what I should do if Esme wants to leave. She’s the heiress. She can leave whenever she wants. Surely, this means if she wants to leave the castle, we leave the castle, and I’m supposed to assist her with that.
“I’ll just go get my keys and my purse.”
“Sorry,” she says.
“For what?”
She opens the car door, gets in, and starts the engine. As I stand there like a dope, she rolls down the window. “I’ve been very naughty and I found your keys. Now get in!”
Esme went into my room and found my purse and keys?
I don’t know whether to be upset or impressed.
I glance around and don’t see Frye anywhere. Maybe he’s already left for his weekend trip and hasn’t spotted us.
And besides, who signs my checks? Not Frye. Esme. I know this because the estate reimbursed me for the airplane ticket, and the stamp on the check was the heiress’s name.
Therefore, I do believe she supersedes Frye’s authority.
I hop into the car and buckle in.
“OK. I’ll go along with a quick drive, but I need to say something. I don’t care if you’re the sole heiress to the Bryant fortune, and I don’t care whether you’re worth millions or billions. Don’t go into my room. If that’s a problem, I’ll turn in my resignation right now.”
Esme’s studies me from the driver’s seat, her hand on the wheel. “Understood. It won’t happen again,” she says softly but seriously. “I got excited at having someone closer to my age around the property, and I’m sorry.”
I nod.
She starts the car, puts it in gear, and we’re off.
“Technically I’m not insured to cover you if we get into an accident. But I assume you’re a good driver?”
She whoops and rolls down the window as she steers around the switchbacks on our way down the hill, taking every hairpin turn like a maniac.
I’m gripping the holy-shit bar like my life is flashing before my eyes.
“I haven’t driven a car in ages. I forgot how much fun it is!”
When we reach the main highway, I promise whatever deity is in the heavens that I’ll go to mass or church or temple every week from now until I die, in gratitude for saving my life.
“Define the word ‘ages.’ Do you have a valid license?”
I glance over at Esme and she’s as cool as a cucumber, making small talk about my job and blatantly avoiding my question.
“I suppose Frye has already tried to scare you away.”
“I don’t scare easy,” I say.
She steers onto the highway and gives me a quick smile.
“Good. I know he seems a little cold, but I’ve known Frye my whole life. He’s very protective of me. But he’s getting older, and he says I’m hard on his nerves.”