The Chauffeur [Complete]

Chapter 14

I had to refrain from rolling my eyes or yawning at such boring conversations. With Sam, everything was always work, work, work. And here, I felt like I was surrounded by a bunch of Sam's.

Nothing seemed to interest these people more other than to boast about their accomplishments. Especially the men. If they weren't bragging about how hot their wife was, they were talking about the yacht they just bought or the promotion they just received.

Don't get me started on their kids. One woman talked about how her three year old was learning Mandarin and Spanish. Something tells me she has a nanny and that she's not actually involved in her kid's life.

Another woman, she talked about how her fourteen year old son received early admission into Princeton. I didn't even ask her how that was possible. I just assumed the kid was smart and that it was a perk of being wealthy.

"Nice seeing you again, Cristie," Sam's boss, Rich Hartford, greeted.

"Celeste," I corrected, smiling back at him to keep from rolling my eyes. He never gets my name right, and we've met more than once.

"Same thing," he said. I wanted to curse him out but just barely managed to swallow that urge.

Mr. Hartford was your typical wealthy, snob of a white male. Thin gray hair, round physique, an aging face that makes him look way older than forty-three, and a crooked smile that makes you want sucker punch his old ass.

The only good thing about him was that his wife was kind. Better than the last two wives he had, that's for sure.

Rachel Hartford was a twenty-five year old british goddess. She was one of the most stunning women I had ever seen. She was a runway model for Victoria Secret and was every bit of an angel. It made me wonder how someone so sweet could end up with a bastard like Rich Hartford.

Her perfect blonde hair cascaded down her back in waves. She had full lips and kind blue eyes that lit up whenever she smiled.

She pulled me in for a hug. "Hi, Celeste. You look absolutely breathtaking."

I smiled. "Thank you, Rachel. You as well."

Rachel was the only one who didn't butcher my name. And you would think Sam would correct them when it happens, but nope. He's too busy kissing Hartford's ass.

She pulled back but didn't let go. She squeezed my arms lightly. "It's been a while. We need to catch up. Lunch soon?"

"I'd love to."

"Smashing. I'll call you."

I nodded. She dropped her arms, hearing her husband call her name. "Oh, quick question." She turned her attention back to me. "How was the dinner? I'm sorry I couldn't be there this time."

Her neatly trimmed brows lower, confusion written across her flawless face. "What dinner?"

"The one you and your husband had with Sam and his secretary."

She shook her head. "I'm not quite sure what you're talking about. We haven't had dinner together in months."

What? So Sam lied to me? If he wasn't having dinner like he had said, then where was he all night?

I forced a smile. "Maybe I got it wrong. Thank you, Rachel."

"Of course," she replied with a smile before rejoining her husband's side.

My eyes zero in on Sam as he laughs and talks with his boss. He occasionally takes a sip of his champagne glass, not seeming to notice the hole I was boring into the side of his face.

"Hey, Celeste," a familiar voice greets. I turned, directing my gaze to Camille, Sam's secretary.

"Oh, hey." My eyes trail down to her stomach. "Wow. I didn't know you were having another baby." She had to be about six months. She smiled, her cheeks tinged pink. "Congratulations. Do you know what you're having?"

Her smile widened. "Another boy. My boyfriend and I are so very excited."

My mood shifted at the sight of her looking so pregnant and beautiful. Her son just turned one, and now she's pregnant with another baby. I was happy for her. And a little envious.

She must have noticed because she asked, "Is everything okay?" Her brown eyes were large and full of concern.

Camille was also a very beautiful woman. And kind. She had dark brown hair and a sweet smile. She's been working for Sam for almost two years now.

"Yeah," I lied before remembering the conversation I had with Rachel. "Actually, I was wondering if you could tell me about this dinner Sam had with the Hartford's."

"Sure."

"So there was a dinner?"

I was really confused now.

"Yeah. Did someone say there wasn't?"

I glanced back at Rachel. She was dancing with her husband, seeming to enjoy herself as she smiled lovingly at him.

"No," I lied, looking back at her. I was going to ask her another question when Sam appeared at my side.

He smiled, greeting Camille with a hug. "You look amazing."

"Thank you. So do you."

He pulled away, his hand now resting on the small of my back. I flashed Camille a closed-mouth smile. "Excuse me, Camille. I need to speak with my husband."

She nodded. "Of course."

I grabbed Sam's wrist and tugged him away from the crowd. I made sure we were out of earshot before blurting out, "Why didn't you tell me Camille was pregnant?"

"Because it's not important. Because I know how upset it would make you to see another woman pregnant knowing how hard it's been for you to get pregnant."

"Us," I corrected. "For us to get pregnant."

"Celeste, we both know I'm not the issue."

"Excuse me?"

He huffed, annoyed. "We're not having this conversation right now."

"Fine." I shoved past him, eyeing the exit. I didn't want to be here anymore.

He grabbed my hand, stopping me from leaving. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"Home," I snapped, tearing my hand free.

He frowned. "We came in one car, so you're not going anywhere."

"Yes the fuck I am. Now find your own damn ride. I'm sure Hartford would love to drive you since you love kissing his ass so much."

I didn't bother looking back as I stormed out of the party, fighting back tears. I'd had to sit through two dreadful long hours of snobby ass white men who didn't bother to learn my name. Even after I corrected them for the millionth time. Camille is pregnant and glowing. And Sam may or may not have lied to me about his whereabouts.

I retrieved my phone from my purse and texted Rade.

Me: Please come get me.

He replied within seconds.

Rade: On my way.