eyes.
“Go ahead and try it,” I said. “Watch what happens next.”
He scowled as he stood his ground. I felt like he was waiting to see if I would turn away first, but I refused to. He looked away and then turned towards the door.
What happened? How did things get so bad, I wondered.
“You got a delivery,” he said.
He opened the door and walked out.
I quickly grabbed my cardigan from the closet and put it on. In the doorway was an older man dressed in an outfit that reminded me of the bellhops at old hotels. He had on a long coat with matching pants and a hat with gold embroidery around the brim.
“Miss Jackie Stone?” he said.
“Yes?”
“I am Reginald Britton, butler for the Winslow family. Here are your keys.” He held up a set of keys between his fingers.
“Keys?” I asked.
He jingled the keys in the air. Unsure what to do, I put my hand out and he dropped them into my palm. I held the plastic key fobs in my hand and marveled at how different they were from the metal car keys of my last car. Flipping a fob over, I recognized the Mini logo.
“There must be a mistake,” I said holding them out to Reginald. “These aren’t mine.”
“I never make mistakes, miss. Your car is parked outside.”
“Wait, what? My car?”
He started walking down the flight of stairs. I followed him to the parking lot across the street where a shiny, red, four-door Mini Cooper with white bonnet stripes was parked with a giant red bow on top. Even though the bow covered the roof, I knew there was a sun roof and everything else I daydreamed about to Brent.
I shrieked with excitement. I couldn’t believe it belonged to me. But why? Why would he help me like that?
“Who’s it from?” Dennis grunted as he flicked a cigarette butt to the ground.
“If I may, miss,” Reginald said with his eyebrows raised.
I nodded, unsure what he was going to do.
“Sir, it is none of your business who it is from. It is a gift for Miss Stone. And if I hear you talk to her again the way you did earlier, you will be smoking those cigarettes out of your arse.”
Giggling I opened the car door and breathed in the beautiful new car smell. I sat inside and took everything in. I couldn’t believe it. I had never had a new car before, let alone one I dreamed up.
I removed the bow and carried it into my apartment, then quickly got dressed. Dennis was still outside, chain smoking. I didn’t say anything to him as I walked past him. I got into the new car and drove to Winslow Environmental.
As I entered the glass building, the woman behind the reception desk stood and smiled at me like she knew me.
“Good morning, Miss Stone,” she said. “Mr. Winslow is expecting you.” The elevator doors dinged as they opened. “His office is on the twentieth floor.”
Smiling at her, I got into the elevator and pinched myself as the doors closed. Everything was so surreal, I found it hard to believe I wasn’t dreaming.
When the doors opened, a woman with a tightly wrapped bun and rust colored reading glasses was waiting for me.
“Good morning, Miss Stone,” she said. “I’m Marcia, Mr. Winslow’s personal assistant. If you have any problems with the car, if anything isn’t precisely to your liking, please let me know.”
I stared at her, unsure what to say.
“Thank you?” I said, hesitantly.
“Mr. Winslow is expecting you,” she said. “Also, I took the liberty of ordering your favorite breakfast.”
“Which is?” I asked, curious if she really knew.
“Brioche french toast and hash browns with warmed syrup and a glass of orange juice.”
“Okay, this is too freaky,” I said.
She laughed. “You’ll get used to it.”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “Where is he?”
“Right this way, miss.”
I followed her down a long hall. At the end of the hall were open double doors. Marcia knocked on one of the doors and then waved me in. Brent was standing in front of the wide window looking at his view of Canyon