Hot Driver - S01 E07

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Hot Driver - S01 E07

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 7

Bennett’s Mansion – Thirty Minutes later

The mansion was unusually quiet.

Hazel paced the living room, her arms crossed, her face twisted with worry. Diana sat on the couch, her phone in her hand, her expression tense.

“I can’t believe you let him leave,” Hazel said, stopping to glare at Ivory, who was standing by the staircase, ready to retreat to her room. “He had no car, no money, and it’s dark outside. What is wrong with you?!”

Ivory rolled her eyes. “He’s a grown man. He can take care of himself.”

“He’s our driver! He works for us! We have a responsibility—”

“I didn’t ask him to leave. He chose to walk out like a stubborn child.”

Diana sighed, rubbing her temples. “Ivory, that’s not the point. The point is that he was out there alone, and we didn’t even think to offer him a ride. I sent a guard to bring him back with my car a few minutes ago. Hopefully, he’ll find him.”

Ivory scoffed. “You’re all overreacting. He’s fine. He’s probably already home, laughing at how dramatic this family is.”

Hazel opened her mouth to argue when Diana’s phone rang.

Diana answered immediately. “Yes? Did you find him?”

The guard’s voice on the other end was urgent. “Ma’am, I found the new driver. He’s unconscious on the road. There’s blood—a lot of it. I’m taking him to Creston General Hospital right now.”

Diana’s face went pale. “What?! Is he—is he alive?”

“He’s breathing, ma’am, but he’s badly hurt. I’ll call you when I know more.”

The call ended.

Diana stared at her phone, her hands trembling.

Hazel’s face went white. “Mum? What happened?”

Diana looked up. Her voice was barely a whisper. “Duane was hit by a car. He’s unconscious. They’re taking him to the hospital.”

Hazel gasped. “WHAT?!”

Ivory, who had been halfway up the stairs, stopped on the middle step. Her hand gripped the railing.

For a moment, something flickered in her eyes. Surprise? Concern? Guilt?

Then it was gone.

She continued climbing the stairs without looking back.

“I’m going to bed,” she said flatly. “There’s nothing I can do.”

Hazel stared after her. “Are you serious?! He could be dying, and you’re just going to sleep?!”

Ivory didn’t respond. She disappeared into her room and closed the door.

Hazel turned to her mother. “How can she be so cold?”

Diana shook her head. “She’s not cold, Hazel. She’s scared. She just doesn’t know how to show it.”

“She’s not scared of anything.”

“Everyone is scared of something. Your sister’s fear is feeling responsible for someone else’s pain.” Diana grabbed her purse. “Come on. We’re going to the hospital.”

—

Creston General Hospital – Night

The hospital was bright and sterile. The smell of antiseptic hung in the air. Nurses moved quickly through the hallways, their footsteps echoing on the linoleum floors.

Diana and Hazel walked into the emergency room, their faces tight with worry.

A doctor approached them. “Mrs. Bennett?”

“Yes. How is he?”

The doctor smiled reassuringly. “He’s stable. He has a broken arm, some bruises, and a mild concussion. He lost some blood, but we’ve stopped the bleeding. He’s still unconscious, but we expect him to wake up soon.”

Hazel let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “He’s going to be okay?”

“He should make a full recovery. He’ll need to rest for a few days, but he’s young and healthy. He’ll be fine.”

Diana pressed her hand to her chest. “Thank God.”

Hazel looked toward the room where Duane was lying. “Can we see him?”

“Just for a few minutes. He needs rest.”

They walked into the room.

Duane lay on the hospital bed, his face pale, his arm bandaged and elevated. There was a small cut on his palm, and dark circles under his eyes. He looked… vulnerable. Smaller than he did when he was standing tall and unbothered.

Hazel’s eyes welled up. “He looks so… hurt.”

Diana placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “He’s going to be okay, Hazel. The doctor said so.”

“But what if he wasn’t? What if he had died out there? All because we didn’t help him.”

“We did help him. We sent someone to find him. He’s here now. That’s what matters.”

Hazel wiped her eyes. “I’m glad he’s okay.”

Diana nodded. “Me too.”

They stood there for a few more minutes, watching Duane’s chest rise and fall with each breath. Then they turned and left.

—

Bennett’s Mansion – The Next Morning

Ivory woke up early.

She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. She hadn’t slept well. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Duane’s face. The way he’d looked at her before he walked out. The way he’d said those words.

Poor church rat.

She felt a twinge of something in her chest. Guilt? No. She didn’t feel guilt. She hadn’t done anything wrong. He was the one who walked out. He was the one who refused to stay. She wasn’t responsible for him.

She sat up, shaking off the feeling.

He’s fine. He’s probably already laughing about this. He’s too stubborn to stay down.

She got dressed, did her makeup, and walked downstairs.

Diana was in the kitchen, her phone in her hand.

“Morning, Mum,” Ivory said, reaching for a coffee.

“Ivory, wait.”

Ivory turned. “What?”

“I called the hospital this morning. Duane woke up. He’s conscious, and the doctor says he can leave tomorrow. But he needs to rest.”

Ivory shrugged. “Good for him.”

Diana’s eyes narrowed. “Is that all you have to say?”

“What else is there? He’s fine. He’ll be back to work soon. We can all stop pretending we care about a man we barely know.”

Diana opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Ivory was already walking out

Ivory walked toward her car. she entered

A hand clamped over her mouth.

“Shh.”

Duane’s voice. Low. Calm. His bandaged palm pressed against her lips.

Ivory’s eyes went wide. She tried to pull away, but he held her firmly

His arm was bandaged, his face was bruised, and there was a cut on his forehead. But his eyes—those dark, infuriating eyes—were fixed on her with the same unbothered calm as always.

He should be in the hospital. What is he doing here?

“If you scream, I’m going to have to explain to your mother why I’m manhandling you,” Duane said, his voice barely a whisper. “And I’m not in the mood for that conversation.”

He released her.

Ivory stumbled backward, her eyes blazing with fury. “What the hell are you doing?! You’re supposed to be in the hospital!”

“I was,” Duane said. “But I got bored.”

“Bored?!” Ivory questioned coming out of the car

“Lying in a hospital bed is boring. Also, I figured you’d need someone to drive you crazy, sorry… to work.”

Ivory stared at him. “You have a broken arm. You have a concussion. You should be resting!”

“I’ll rest when I’m dead.”

Duane turned to look at her. His expression was calm, but there was something in his eyes—something sharp and unyielding.

“Get in the car,” he repeated. “Or I’ll carry you.”

Ivory’s mouth fell open. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

They stared at each other for a long moment.

Then Ivory got in the car.

She slid into the back seat, her arms crossed, her face twisted with anger.

Duane got into the driver’s seat. He started the engine, adjusted the mirror, and pulled out of the driveway.

“You have nothing to say to me?” Ivory asked, her voice dripping with venom.

Duane glanced at her in the mirror. “What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know. Maybe an apology for making me look like a fool?”

Duane snorted. “An apology? You want an apology from me? You’re the one who threw me out of your house.”

“You walked out on your own.”

“You didn’t exactly stop me.”

“Because I didn’t care if you left!”

“Right.” His voice was flat. “You don’t care. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

Ivory’s face flushed. “How dare you—”

“I’m just stating facts.” He turned the wheel smoothly. “You’re a rude, arrogant, self-centered brat who thinks the world revolves around you. You insult people without a second thought, you treat your employees like garbage, and you can’t stand it when someone doesn’t bow to your every whim.”

Ivory was speechless.

She wanted to argue. She wanted to scream. But the words wouldn’t come.

“Get out of the car,” Ivory said finally.

“I’m driving.”

“I said get out.”

“You said get out. I heard you. I’m not getting out.”

“I’ll have you fired!”

“Go ahead.” Duane’s voice was calm. “Call your father. Tell him I’m insolent and rude. He’ll fire me, I’ll go back to my boring life, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

Ivory’s hands clenched into fists.

She didn’t have an answer.

—

Ivy Fashion Empire – Lobby – Morning

Ivory walked into the lobby, her heels clicking against the marble floor. Her face was thunderous. Her eyes were blazing.

Duane followed behind her, his expression calm, his bandaged arm tucked against his side.

Ivory stopped and turned to face him.

“Stay here,” she said coldly. “Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t look at anyone. Don’t breathe in anyone’s direction.”

“Don’t worry,” Duane said pleasantly. “I’ll be perfect.”

Ivory glared at him. Then she turned and walked toward the elevator.

The employees scattered.

Ivory pointed at one of the interns. “You! Your shirt is untucked. Do you think this is a playground?”

“Ms. Bennett—”

“I don’t want excuses. Fix it. Now.”

The intern scrambled away.

Ivory pointed at another employee. “Your hair. It’s messy. Did you run here?”

“Ms. Bennett—”

“I don’t want to hear it. Go to the bathroom and fix it. And if I see it like that again, you’re gone.”

“And you!” Ivory pointed at a man near the coffee station. “What’s that tie? Did you pick it off the street?”

His face went red. “No, Ms. Bennett—”

“Then what is it? Some cheap copy? You work at Ivy Fashion Empire. You represent luxury. And you’re wearing that?”

“I’ll change it tomorrow—”

“You’ll change it now. Go home. Come back with something that doesn’t offend me.”

He hurried away.

Ivory took a deep breath. She felt a little better. She walked toward the elevator.

Behind her, Duane watched. His expression was unreadable.
—

Smiley’s Restaurant – Morning

Sloane was in the kitchen, checking the inventory. Her face was drawn. Her shoulders were tense.

The restaurant was empty.

It had been empty all morning.

She walked out into the dining area. There were a few customers—maybe four or five. They were sitting at a table, talking quietly.

Sloane walked over to them. “Is everything okay?”

One of the customers looked up. “Sloane, where’s Duane? He’s usually here by now.”

“He’s got another job now. He won’t be coming back.”

The customer frowned. “Oh. That’s a shame. He was always so friendly.”

Sloane forced a smile. “I know. I miss him too.”

She walked away, her heart heavy.

Ten customers had come in earlier. When they didn’t see Duane, they didn’t even sit down. They just turned around and left.

Sloane’s business was suffering.

She needed Duane.

But she wasn’t going to beg him to come back. He’d found something better. Something that paid more. Something that would give him a better life.

She had to let him go.

But it hurt.

—