9

Chapter 9

The car ride was, once again, painfully awkward. When I used to drive Mr. Preston, his dad, silence never felt uncomfortable—it was natural, even welcomed. But with Richard, every passing second felt heavier, as if the silence itself were suffocating me.

Richard's refusal to play music didn't help either, leaving me with nothing but the sound of the engine and the occasional car passing by. I shifted my gaze out the window, trying to focus on anything but the stifling atmosphere.

As much as I want to stretch or fidget to entertain myself, I repressed myself from doing so because I don't want to look like a bored child with someone who's younger than me. Every movement I seem to make feels magnified under his quiet scrutiny, so I remained rigid in my seat, feeling every tick of time crawl by.

It doesn't help much that he's not keen on listening to the radio so all I can do is to shift my gaze once in a while to keep my sanity intact.

Then his phone rang. Thank God.

He connected it to the car's Bluetooth, and Mr. Preston's voice boomed through the speakers.

"Hey, son! Where are you right now?"

"We're on our way to work. Is everything fine?" Richard asked, glancing at me briefly. "Carl's with me," he added.

"Hi, Mr. Preston. How are you?" I chimed in politely, grateful for the distraction.

"Never better," he replied before turning his attention back to Richard. "What car are you using?"

"The black Cadillac," Richard answered. "Why?"

"Great!" Mr. Preston sounded pleased. "I need a number from a calling card I left in that car. It's black, with the name Albert Durand. Check the glovebox for me and read it out."

Richard gestured for me to retrieve the card. Dutifully, I opened the glovebox—only to be greeted by a chaotic mess of papers, random items, and...

What the hell? How did that get in here?

It was a box of condoms randomly stashed like it belonged there.

I froze, staring at the emergency contraception in disbelief. Surely, this wasn't Mr. Preston's doing. Richard glanced at me and cleared his throat, his irritation evident.

"What's taking you so long?" he asked sharply.

"Uh... still looking," I stammered, quickly shoving aside the box. But before I could bury it, Richard reached over, snatching it from my hand.

"Give me that if it's distracting you," he mumbled, unfazed, holding it aside like it was nothing.

I kept searching, my face burning, until I finally found the card. "Got it," I announced, relieved.

I started dictating the number when Richard suddenly slammed the brakes, sending me lurching forward against my seatbelt. The car horn blared, angry and long.

"What's going on?" Mr. Preston's concerned voice echoed through the car.

"Some idiot cut us off," Richard snapped, his voice tight.

I was about to continue my dictation but then I realized that the card was no longer in my hand.

"I'll read out the rest of the numbers in a while Mr. Preston." I pressed the mute button and searched for the card while Richard continued driving. After some time, I finally spotted it—just below Richard's leg, near the gas pedal. Great. Just great.

I leaned over, reaching my arm toward it, but it was farther away than I'd anticipated. As I stretched closer, my left ear brushed against his thigh, and before I realized it, my head was resting on his lap.

"Whoa, whoa! What the hell are you doing?" Richard snapped, the car swerving slightly as he tightened his grip on the wheel.

"I can't reach the card! It's on your side," I shot back, my head now fully leaning against his leg.

"And you didn't think to warn me before you started crawling under the dashboard?" His voice was sharp, but there was a slight edge of something else. "Let me pull over for a minute."

He turned the car for a quick stop.

"Are you sure it's down there?" he asked.

"Yes!"

"Then why are you still looking?"

"Because I can't see a damn thing!" I snapped, my face pressed against the column of the steering wheel as I blindly felt around the floor with my hands for the card.

I heard a faint tap on the window just as my fingers grazed the card's edge.

"Carl..." His voice now carried a mix of exasperation and alarm.

"I'm almost there!" I yelled, determined. My fingers closed around the card, but before I could secure it, he grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me upright.

"Enough!" he barked.

"What?" I shot back, irritated.

Before he could answer, there was a sharp knock on the driver's side window. We both froze. Slowly, Richard rolled it down, revealing a stern-faced police officer.

"Is everything alright here, folks?" the officer asked, his eyes narrowing as he glanced between us.

"Yes, officer. Is there a problem?" Richard replied smoothly, his voice calm but tight.

The officer didn't look convinced. "Are you both aware that it's illegal to perform sexual acts while driving—or even do it while your car is parked on the side of a busy road?" He asked, his tone accusatory.

"Yes we're both aware of that." Richard's voice was cool, but I could hear the tension underneath.

"Then what in the world are you two doing?"

Richard shook his head. "I don't understand. Would you care to elaborate?"

The officer folded his arms. "Don't play dumb. I know what I saw. Your boyfriend was giving you a blowjob while you were driving."

"What?"  I chimed in. I can't even comprehend how the policeman reached that conclusion. "That's not—"

Richard cut me off with a raised hand. "Officer, with all due respect, that's not what was happening."

He reached for his phone to unmute the call. "Dad, we'll get back to you later. Something came up. We'll just text you the number after we're done." he said briskly before ending the call.

"Look, officer," I said, trying to control the situation. "I don't know how you came to that conclusion, but I was just reaching for this card that slid under his seat." I held up the calling card that started this mess.

He looked at us unconvinced. "Right. And it just happened that your driver is holding a pack of condom." he said, pointing at the contraception still clutched in Richard's hand.

I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. He didn't even bother to pocket that thing when he saw that a policeman was approaching the car. Now it looks like we're really doing the nasty while the car was moving.

"And that's your only basis for your accusation? Who knows, it was just a coincidence." Richard responded sounding unbothered from everything that's happening.

"Sure it is," the officer said, his sarcasm thick. "And what about your friend shouting, 'I'm getting there!'? Sounded a lot like you were... reaching the, uh, finish line."

Wow! Words really are dangerous if taken out of context.

"Like I said. Coincidence." Richard said flatly.

The officer wasn't buying it. His eyes dropped to Richard's lap. "And that?" He pointed.

I followed his gaze and immediately regretted it. My eyes landed on Richard's crotch, where an unmistakable bulge made the situation infinitely worse.

"The what?" Richard asked casually. Lord take me now. I can't have a public indecency charge on my sheet.

"The boner sir."

"That's just how my pants crease when I'm driving," he said smoothly, as if explaining the most obvious thing in the world. "You know, like denim does."

"Right," the officer said skeptically. "Step out of the car, both of you."

My heart sank. If Richard's not going to be careful, we're going to end up in jail and somebody would need to bail us out for indecent exposure and resisting arrest. What a headline that would make! Yikes!

"No." Richard declined firmly. "Because you have no solid proof to back up your claim."

"Listen, I saw this car skid on the road before you took a stop on the side road, and it's my duty to investigate any suspicious activity,"

"That's because-" Before I could jump in with an explanation, Richard covered my mouth with his hand.

"Officer, let's not blow this out of proportion," he said, his voice annoyingly calm. "Just like he said, he was reaching for this card." He held up the calling card like it was a crucial piece of evidence.

The officer squinted at him, clearly unimpressed. "And the condoms?"

Richard sighed, leaning back in his seat like he was trying to summon every ounce of patience he had left. "I get how this looks, but it's not what you think. Long story short—coincidence."

The officer crossed his arms, unimpressed. "Convenient story. But I'll need more than just your word, son."

Richard let out another sigh. "Fine. How about this?" He gestured toward the dashcam mounted neatly near the rearview mirror. "Dashcam. Everything's recorded. Want me to pull the footage?"

The officer arched a brow, his stern demeanor momentarily faltering. "You have a dashcam?"

Richard shrugged. "Of course. It's a family car. You know, liability and all that." He unplugged the device, the red recording light still blinking, and began navigating its buttons.

I silently thanked whatever cosmic force had prompted the Prestons to install a dashcam. I feel vindicated all of a sudden.

The officer looked unsure now, his arms lowering. "Alright, let's see it then."

"Look, Officer, we're already running late, and this could take a while." Richard reached into his pocket for his wallet and pulled a sleek black card before handing it over. "Here's my contact details. If you want, I'll send you the footage later. No problem."

The shift in the officer's demeanor was instant. His brow furrowed as he seems to recognize the name on the card. "Preston... as in Preston-Astor Group?"

Richard gave a modest nod. "That's the one."

The officer blinked, his earlier bravado shrinking. "Well, uh... my daughter's a huge fan of your family's work. Talks about it all the time. She's studying business, actually. Always dreamed of working at one of your companies."

Richard's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "Is that so? What's her name?"

"Lila Rodgers," the officer said quickly, his tone suddenly deferential, as if he'd been transported into an impromptu job interview.

Richard nodded thoughtfully. "Have her send over her résumé. We're always on the lookout for talent."

The officer's face lit up, his suspicion dissolving into gratitude. "Really? That would mean the world to her, Mr. Preston."

Richard's tone remained cordial but carried just enough edge to remind the officer of his earlier accusations. "Of course. But maybe next time, lead with that instead of the wild assumptions."

The officer flushed slightly, his posture shifting awkwardly. "Right. Sorry about that. Just, uh... doing my job, you know."

"Sure," Richard replied smoothly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

The officer stepped back, still clutching the card like he won the lottery. After a few more unnecessary apologies, he returned to his cruiser and drove off.

What just happened? Yay to nepotism I guess?

The silence between us after was heavy, thick with the lingering embarrassment and absurdity of what had just happened. Neither of us dared to look at the other.

Richard finally broke the stillness by starting the engine.

"I think we can agree," Richard said, his tone dry, "to never speak of this again."

"Agreed." I replied instantly without hesitation. A rare occurrence where we didn't contradict each other.