“Come in Cassidy,” Eddie O’Neal said.

Moments later, you were sitting on the most expensive leather couch you’ve ever seen in a sleek, designed office of Boston’s biggest Skipper, Eddie O’Neal. He had ordered your father to send you because your father had borrowed a large sum of money and was trying to get out of paying it back. Eddie told you that you that you would be held until your father pays back his debt in full. You complained and cried, but Eddie told you that no harm would come to you and that you could go home to daddy as soon as your father paid off every penny. He then told you he was going to have you taken to one of his mansions outside the city by his one of his drivers, who walked in after Eddie sent for him. You had been protected all your life, held into innocence by a strict upbringing, and even at twenty, you had seen so little of the world. You were scared for your life, but there was also a tinge of excitement.

The driver is too attractive to be a part of the mob. This man should be on the cover of Vogue, you thought. Your eyes glide up him, taking in his formal but work uniform, all in black. He held a hat that was kind of shaped like a pilot’s hat. It was also black and had a small sliver plaque on the front that had a symbol engraved into it. You assumed that was the symbol for the drivers. His dark hair is gelled, his eyes are dark brown, his complexion is fair, and his lips are a soft rosy color.

Eddie has a few words with his driver then turns towards you to introduce you.

“Cassidy,” Eddie says, walking towards you, the driver a step behind him. “This is Jimmy. He’s the most reliable of my drivers. He will keep you safe until you get to the safehouse.”

He almost winds you by flashing you the best smile on earth when you stand up to greet him. You thank the gods it’s harder than having a cute boy smile at you to make you blush. You smile back at him. “Jimmy, right?”

He nods, then he looks at Eddie as if he’s checking that nothing further is needed before leading you out of the building and to the car. He walks with his hand behind your back but doesn’t touch you. When the two of you get to the car, he opens the back door for you and waits for you to get in so he can close the door too.

You watch him walk around the car and get in the driver’s seat. He takes his hat off and drops it in the seat next to him before pulling his seatbelt on and starting the car. He looks up into the rear-view mirror at you. “Seat-belt please.”

You had been so busy looking at him you almost didn’t catch what he said. “What?” you look around yourself and realize what he was asking you to do. “Oh sorry,” you say, pulling the seatbelt across you and buckling it up.

He waits for you before turning on his signal light and pulling out of the parking space. He drives in silence for a while before looking at you in the rear-view mirror. “Do you need anything before we leave the city?”

You had been looking out the side window when he spoke, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts. Your eyes move to the rear-view mirror where you can see his face clearly and notice he has a bit of color crawling up his neck. You stare at him for a moment before realizing he must not have many long trips with the opposite gender, and he isn’t sure how to ask if you need any lady products. “No, I’m okay.”

He nods, looking relieved, as his eyes focus back on the road. “Okay. I’ll stop and get us something to eat before we leave the city and a few things for the road. Anything particular you’d like to eat?”

“Anything’s good. I’m not picky,” you say, leaning against the door and looking out the window.

The ride is quiet till he pulls into a gas station. Jimmy unbuckles his seat belt and turns in his seat to look at you. “I’m going to fill up and get up a few things. Did you want to come in with me?”

You look at him, surprised he turned to look at you. You had been in a trance, curled up against the door while he drove to the outskirts of the city, so him leaning into the back seat to look at you was daunting. “Oh, uh ... sure,” you say, shrugging.

“Wait here for just a sec, okay?” he asks.

You nod and he gives you one of those killer smiles again before putting his hat back on and getting out of the car. You push yourself off the door and stretch. When Jimmy is done filling the tank with gas, he hangs the pump up and opens your door for you. You take the hand he offers to help you out of the car. He closed the door behind you and walks with you into the gas station store.

You put your hand on his arm to get his attention and point towards the bathrooms before walking away from him, so he knows you aren’t running off. He nods and, even though you’d never know it, makes sure he keeps an eye on the bathroom doors while circling the shop, grabbing more food than the two of you could possibly eat. When you walk out of the bathroom, he is at the counter.

He looks over at you. “Get yourself something to drink. I didn’t know what you wanted.”

“Are you sure? You don’t need to spend money on me,” you say, a worried tone in your voice.

He smiles again. Oh god, how can anyone get used to that sexy smile?

“It’s okay. It’s on the boss.”

“Oh, okay,” you say before walking away from him to go get a drink.

Jimmy is leaning against the counter, watching you when you get back with your drink, the rest of the things in white plastic bags waiting to be paid for.

“Sorry,” you say, placing the beverage on the counter. “They have a lot of choices.”

He smiles and holds money out to the man behind the counter without taking his eyes off you. “It’s okay sweetheart,” he hands you back your drink and grabs the bags, telling the man to keep the change.

Outside, the sky has grown dark with rain clouds. Jimmy grimaces at the sky as you and he walk back to the car. You open the door to the back seat because his hands are full. You scoot in and hold your hand out to him to take the bags and place them in the back with you. He hesitates for a moment, not expecting you to offer to help.

“Thanks,” he says, bending a bit to look into the car at you.

You place the last bag on your left, behind the driver's seat, then look over at him, giving a little smile.

He closes the door and hurries around the car as the sky opens and rains down on him. He tosses the hat into the seat next to his and pulls the door shut. “Burgers?” he asks, putting the car into gear and rolling forward while he buckles his seat belt.

“Sure,” you say, sliding into the middle of the back seat and buckling up.

He pulls into the Sonic Burger’s drive-thru across the road and orders a few cheeseburgers, handing you the bag when it’s handed into his window. He pulls back onto the road toward the mansion before asking you to hand him one. You eat a double cheeseburger in the time it takes Jimmy to finish two. There is still one left in the bag, so you fold the bag around the last one and reach forward to put it on the seat next to his hat. He glances from the road to you a few times to see what you’re doing. You lean back, watching him look from the burger to you in the rear-view mirror.

The drive is awkwardly quiet for nearly an hour. You notice Jimmy looking into the rear-view mirror at intervals, his eyes flicking over to look at you each time. You deduce the trip is going to take at least till nightfall, from the way he pulls his tie loose and the amount of food he picked up at the gas station. So instead of sitting in awkward silence, you decide to strike up a conversation with your transporter or alleged driver. You just had to come up with a topic.

You lean forward so your head could rest on his shoulder if you leaned to one side. “Is this job of yours dangerous?”

Jimmy jumps in his seat, moving closer to the door and looking at you. His eyes widen. He looks back at the road, placing a hand over his heart. “Don’t sneak up on me!”

“Sorry,” you say, leaning back a bit.

He looks over his shoulder at you. “Now, what did you ask?”

You move as far forward as your seatbelt will allow. “I was just wondering if your job was dangerous.”

“Oh, well, on a scale from one to ten; ten being the most dangerous you can have mine is about a six,” he says, looking at the road as he talks. “I take the boss all the time, but those jobs are less dangerous than you’d think.”

You nod. “Oh, okay.”

“Why?” Jimmy asks, looking over at you.

“It had been quiet for a long time, and that was the first thing I could think of,” you say.

“Sorry about that. I rarely have passengers talking to me unless they are giving me directions,” Jimmy says.

“That’s okay,” you say, grabbing his hat out of the front seat and putting it on.