Hot Driver - S01 E06

Story 1 day ago

Hot Driver - S01 E06

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 6

—

Ivy’s Fashion Empire — Noon

Ivory was so tired, from meetings to appointment, from appointment to reviewing proposals.

And now she’s in her office, exhausted, shoes off, a leg on the table.

She needs coffee.

She called the receptionist to send Duane over

Minutes later Duane entered with that annoying confidence and ugly smile.

“how can I help you Ms. Bennett” Duane asked with a smirk.

“by getting your ass off my face!” Ivory snapped.

“OK. if you say so” Duane was about to turn the knob when Ivory talked again

“like seriously, are you dumb” Ivory asked, pissed off

“No. Ms. Bennett” He cursed her with a short smile.

“you are. I called you here and you are leaving, without my permission?, poor church rat, where’s your damn respect Duane Brooke!!!”

“you asked me to get my ass off your face”Duane said, his voice sharp and loud without intending to

“you’re raising your voice at me now too, you know what, get out, make my coffee, bring it in five minutes!” Ivory ordered

Duane didn’t flinch, he didn’t budge instead, he stood his ground looking straight into her eyes

Ivory wanted to shout at him but he couldn’t, she knows it is useless, this infuriating commoner wouldn’t flinch, He wouldn’t bow for her. He dared looked at her in the face, with his heads up, even her employer bows at her sight, they wouldn’t dare look at her face whenever they want to talk to her.

But this poor church rat is being overly confident. She had to admit he’s got some egos. and he deserves a gift for that, probably a slap across his face.

His arrogance is too much for a poor church rat like him.

“Make my coffee” She repeated glaring at him who was looking at her like she was nothing

“that’s not part of my work here, Ivy, My Job is to drive you anywhere… to drive you crazy and not to make your boring coffee, you have your employee” Duane said calmly and daringly at the same time

“I won’t repeat that” Ivory saud turning her Laptop to face her, Duane still didn’t budge, he just decided to stay off trouble, though he loves it a lot, but he wanted to let this go. Ivory might explode soon

“Just take it as a gift from me, cause I’m in one of my good moods today and this comes once in a blue moon, don’t expect me to bow to your lazy orders tomorrow, Ivy” Duane said calmly before going out

“ahhhhh!!!!!” Ivory screamed, punching the air

“I will deal with you, Brooke, you even called me Ivy, that’s forbidden coming from your mouth. I won’t sack you, I will make life in here miserable and hell for you. She continued walking on her laptop.

After fifteen minutes, the door opened, those fifteen minutes looked like an eternity to Ivory, she was craving a coffee badly

“you are late, poor rat” Ivory said again with that name

“take your coffee” Duane placed the coffee on her desk

“pick it up and put it on my palm, disrespectful ass” Ivory glared

“I’m not your maid, stop being bratty, it’s irking” Duane scoffed

With fury and rage, Ivory took the coffee mug on her desk and drank from it.

It was surprisingly good, just like she wanted but she hates to admit

She instantly spit it out, all on his shirt and HANDSOME FACE

“I didn’t ask you to make an herb, I said a coffee, it’s to bitter, go and make another one and add more sugar!” Ivory flared

“Did you wanna spoil my handsome face for those girls, thank gawd the coffee isn’t hurt, you would have turned me to an ugly cow now, huh? Ms. Bennett” Duane saud with an annoying calmness, the one that angers people ” and I’m not gonna make you another coffee, my promo has ended, bye the sweetest and nicest boss ever” Duane stepped out of the office, it’s obvious he was trying to keep his anger at bay

Ivory’s hand fell and she threw away her laptop angrily, scattering keys around.

Smiley’s Restaurant – Creston City – Afternoon

Sloane was pacing.

She was a fifty-two-year-old woman with graying hair and the kind of face that had weathered enough storms to know when something was wrong. And something was definitely wrong.

It had been hours since Duane left. Hours days since her best server walked away and hadn’t come back.

And the customers wouldn’t stop asking.

“Is Duane working today?”

“Where’s that handsome young man?”

“Can’t we get the tall one? He’s so friendly.”

Sloane had tried to explain. Tried to make them understand that Duane had found a better opportunity, that he couldn’t stay forever, that they had other servers who were just as capable.

They didn’t care.

They wanted Duane.

Sloane sighed, running a hand over her face. She looked around the restaurant. It was half-empty. At this time of day, it was usually full.

She had to do something.

She had to call Celeste.

She grabbed her phone and scrolled through her contacts until she found the number Duane had given her months ago.

She pressed call.

—

Brooke Residence –

“Hello?”

“Sloane? Is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me. I’m sorry to call you, Celeste, but I need to talk to Duane.”

Celeste paused. “Duane isn’t here, Sloane. He’s working now.”

“Working where?”

“He got a job as a driver for the Bennett family.”

Sloane was quiet for a moment. “The Bennetts? The rich ones?”

“Yes. The pay is… good. Much better than what I could offer.”

“I see.” Sloane’s voice was flat. “Well, I hope he’s happy. The customers won’t stop asking about him.”

“I’m sorry, Sloane.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s just… he was good, Celeste. He was really good.”

“He still is. He’s just in a different place now.”

Sloane was quiet. Then she said, “If things don’t work out, send him back. I’ll always have a place for him.”

“Thank you, Sloane. I’ll let him know.”

The call ended.

Celeste stared at her phone.

What have I done?

—

Morales Mansion – Evening

The Morales Mansion was a different kind of wealth.

It wasn’t as grand as Bennett’s Mansion, but it was close. The same kind of money. The same kind of power. The same kind of people who looked at others like they were furniture.

Celeste moved through the halls, a bucket of cleaning supplies in one hand, a cloth in the other. She had been cleaning since noon. The marble floors sparkled. The windows were spotless. The furniture gleamed.

She hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

Her stomach growled. She ignored it.

She was in the kitchen when she saw it — a plate of fried chicken, still warm, left on the counter.

She hesitated.

She wasn’t supposed to eat. Ron had made that clear. “You eat only what we give you. Never from the kitchen. Never without asking.”

But she was hungry. And no one was home.

She reached for the chicken. Took a piece. Ate it quickly. Then another. She was about to take a third when she heard the honk of a car.

She froze.

They’re home.

She threw the remaining chicken in the bin. Wiped her mouth. Fixed her uniform. Took a breath.

Then she went to open the door

Maeve Morales stepped through the front door first.

Celeste bowed her head. “Good evening, ma’am.”

Maeve didn’t respond.

Ron followed her inside. He looked at Celeste with the same expression he always used — disgust, barely concealed.

“Everything was cleaned,” Celeste said. “The kitchen, the living room, the—”

“Were you in the kitchen?” Ron interrupted.

Celeste’s heart stopped. “Yes. I—”

“Did you eat anything?”

“No. No, I—”

Ron stepped closer. He saw the chicken crumb on her mouth.

“You ate,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

“I didn’t—”

“DON’T LIE TO ME.”

His hand shot out and grabbed her arm. He dragged her to the wall and slammed her head against it. Pain exploded through Celeste’s skull.

“I told you,” Ron hissed. “You eat when I say you eat. NOT BEFORE.”

“Please—”

Maeve stepped forward. She was holding the chicken remnants from the bin.

“Explain this,” she said coldly.

Celeste was crying now. “I—I was hungry, I didn’t mean—”

Maeve slapped her.

“It doesn’t matter what you meant,” Maeve said. “It matters what you did.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Sorry doesn’t fix it.”

Ron reached for his wallet. “I’ll be delaying your salary. This week. And maybe next week. If you want to eat, you’ll learn to ask first.”

“Please—”

“It’s done,” Ron said. “Get back to work.”

Celeste pulled herself up. She walked away with her head bowed, tears streaming down her cheeks. feeling insane pain from her skull

—

Brooke Residence – Same Evening

Luis Brooke walked through the front door.

The house was quiet. Too quiet.

“Mama?” he called.

No answer.

“Duane?”

Nothing.

He frowned. He walked into the kitchen. No food. No note. No sign that anyone had been home.

His stomach growled. He opened the cupboard. There was instant custard.

No food at home,no remnants, no foodstuffs. Just a sugarless ordinary custard

He made himself a bowl, ate it in silence, and went to his room.

He was alone. After coming from school he attended a cheap highschool in the community tho. He had branched at a pet store where he worked parttime. His job is too take care of the pets and make sales

But not a single customer came today. He had to pay for his school fees, but no hope, no money

He was troubled. Again.

—

Ivy Fashion Empire – Evening – 7:00 PM

Ivory emerged from the elevator, her heels clicking against the marble floor. Her face was tired, her expression cold.

Duane was waiting for her in the lobby. He stood up when he saw her. He had cleaned and dry up his shirt but the stain isn’t removing

Ivory didn’t look at him. She didn’t speak. She just walked past him toward the exit, handing him her keys without meeting his eyes.

Duane took the keys. He followed her out.

They reached the car. Duane opened the back door for her.

Ivory slipped inside.

Duane didn’t close the door.

Ivory looked up from her phone. “Aren’t you going to close it?”

“You have your own hands,” Duane said. “Do it yourself.”

Ivory stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“Last time I checked, you had two perfectly functional hands.” Duane smiled. “You’re also a grown woman. I think you can manage.”

Ivory’s face flushed with anger.

“Close the door,” she said, her voice low.

“No.”

“CLOSE THE DOOR.”

Duane leaned against the car frame. “What’s the magic word?”

Ivory was shaking with rage. “You—”

“The magic word.”

“JUST CLOSE THE DOOR!”

“Since you won’t say it…” Duane stepped back. “Close it yourself.”

Ivory’s hands tightened into fists. Then, with a sharp, angry motion, she reached out and yanked the door closed.

Duane got into the driver’s seat.

Throughout the drive, Ivory was silent. But her glare was fixed on the back of his head.

She ate sugary chocolates from her bag. She didn’t offer him any.

Her eyes burned holes into his skull.

—

Bennett’s Mansion – Evening

The car pulled into the driveway.

Before the car had fully stopped, Ivory opened the door and got out, walking toward the house with long, furious strides.

She didn’t look back.

Duane watched her go. Then he sighed, parked the car properly, and walked toward the mansion.

—

Inside the mansion

The main hall was warm, lit by soft gold lamps.

Hazel was on the couch. She looked up when Duane walked in.

“Handsome brother!” she called out. “You’re back!”

Duane smiled. “Hello, Hazel.”

Mrs. Bennett stepped forward. “Duane. We’ve discussed it. Since you’re driving Ivory every day, you’ll be staying here during the week. You’ll only go home on Saturdays, and you must return by Monday morning.”

Mr. Bennett nodded stiffly. “It’s practical.”

Hazel clapped her hands. “YES!”

Ivory, who had been halfway up the stairs, froze.

“WHAT?!”

She turned around, her face red.

“No,” she said. “No. Absolutely not. He is NOT staying here.”

“Ivory—”

“Mum, NO. I won’t have him in my house. I hate him. I HATE him. He can go and die in hell for all I care! I WON’T ALLOW A POOR CHURCH RAT IN MY HOME—”

“Ivory, that’s enough,” Mrs. Bennett said firmly.

“I won’t sleep under the same roof as a—”

Duane was already leaving before she finishes

Duane walked out of the mansion.

He didn’t look back.

The night air was cold. The street was empty. The only lights were from the mansion behind him, shining bright, mocking him.

He didn’t have a car. He didn’t have money for a ride. His residence was far.

He started walking.

This is fine, he told himself. It’s just a walk. You’ve done worse.

But it hurt.

Not the walking. The words.

Poor church rat.

He had heard worse. Much worse. But somehow, hearing it from her felt different.

He was still thinking when a car appeared from nowhere.

The headlights blinded him.

Then—impact.

Duane felt his body lift off the ground. He heard a crack. He felt pain. Then nothing.

The car had ran into him

He fell to the pavement.

the driver came out, he looks drunk, he was staggering, he entered his car back

The car drove away.

Duane lay on the cold road, bleeding, unconscious.

—

TBC