CHAPTER 17: CHAPTER 17: DO YOU THINK I’M YOUR DRIVER?

The car from the back drove up.

Rachel Rivers got into Mason Rivers’ car, and as soon as she got in, she couldn’t help complaining.

Her voice was tinged with tears.

"Brother! Look at him, just leaving me in the middle of the road like that! And there were several colleagues there, he didn’t give me any face!"

Mason Rivers turned the steering wheel to one side and casually said, "You insisted on working for Declan, who can you blame? After you graduated and joined the company, I’ve been taking care of you, isn’t that enough?"

Of course, it’s not enough.

That’s Declan Hawthorne!

Rachel almost sneered. How dare Mason put their family business on par with Declan Hawthorne?

Everyone knows that marrying Declan Hawthorne is undoubtedly a prestigious marriage.

Rachel might not have been so enamored with Declan Hawthorne before.

It was only when she went to see Mason during school and met Declan, that she was deeply attracted by his looks, his physique, and that unique aura he carried.

Later, knowing he was a Hawthorne, that affection became an obsession.

She wanted to be the lady of the Hawthorne Group.

Rachel playfully said, "It’s different; I just like Declan! Besides, isn’t it good for you to keep the family company? I don’t want to compete with you. Help me be with Declan; it’s also good for our business."

Of course, Mason knew.

If they could become in-laws with Declan Hawthorne, the Rivers Family would gain nothing but endless benefits.

But Declan Hawthorne didn’t seem to be interested in Rachel.

What if, by chance?

Back then, no one expected Declan would date Poppy Hale for years, right?

Mason agreed with her, acceding to her request.

-

The subway moved forward.

The emergency broadcast sounded: "Due to weather conditions, this route temporarily ceases operation. We apologize for the inconvenience. Please consider alternative travel arrangements and plan accordingly."

In the subway, all passengers complained.

Someone looked at their phone, "Looks like it’s a heavy rainstorm. Heaven, such intense rain, which immortal is transcending a tribulation?"

"Or maybe some guy somewhere is swearing an oath."

Poppy Hale could only take this line back home.

Now the subway is out of service, and with the storm, there are likely few buses. She needs to hurry and see if any drivers are taking orders to drive her back.

Just standing at the subway entrance, the wind and rain whipped in, completely drenching Poppy’s dress.

The dress clung to her body as Poppy looked at the ride-hailing app on her phone, which continuously showed no available ride orders.

Even due to the rain, prices skyrocketed.

Normally it would take ten bucks to take the subway home; now, it would cost two hundred fifty.

Looking at the three-digit ride cost, Poppy gritted her teeth but couldn’t bring herself to do it.

It’s as if those three numbers were mocking her.

Two hundred fifty, that’s her family’s food budget for five days.

It’s also one specialist consultation fee for Florence Lynch’s follow-up appointment.

Poppy couldn’t bear it.

But if she rode a shared bike back, she might end up in the hospital tomorrow, which would cost more money.

Looking at her phone, Poppy tried posting a paid ride-share request on her social circle, attaching her location.

At that hour, amidst sudden bad weather, Poppy had little hope.

Unexpectedly, five or six minutes later, Poppy’s phone rang suddenly, and she got a WeChat call notification.

She answered to find it was Declan Hawthorne.

The man’s voice was cold, "Pinegrove Road Station, Exit 2, I’ll give you one minute."

Poppy: "Huh?"

Amidst the noisy rain, Poppy could barely hear what Declan said, only catching the impatience in his voice, "Hurry up."

In the past, whenever he urged her to get ready, it was in the same tone.

Poppy didn’t need to look up to feel the rain falling on her face, her clothing entirely plastered to her skin, and she shivered miserably.

The Wrangler parked at the subway entrance met Poppy’s gaze, and immediately, the driver impatiently honked the horn several times.

Poppy bit her lower lip, braving the wind and rain as she rushed over to the car, tugging at the back door.

But it didn’t open.

Raindrops splattered on the windows, streaming down the glass. Afraid of keeping Declan waiting, Poppy decided to pull at the passenger door.

It opened instantly.

She said hesitantly, "Could you unlock the back door?"

After all, the passenger seat, it seemed, wasn’t a place she deserved to sit.

Declan kept a cold face.

"Sit in the back? Do you think I’m your driver?"

On second thought, it indeed seemed inappropriate.

Once inside, Poppy was nearly soaked through, water droplets slipping from her hair, sliding onto the leather seat.

Poppy instinctively said, "Sorry, President Hawthorne, I’ll pay for car cleaning later."

Declan didn’t rush to drive away.

He reached over and handed Poppy a soft cleansing towel that Heather Underwood had left behind in the car without taking it.

It was evidently a woman’s item.

Was it something Rachel left in his car? Or did Declan prepare it himself?

Declan Hawthorne, a man rarely attentive to details, had once gifted Poppy a disastrously garish Barbie pink lipstick.

Evidently, when he loved a woman, he too would prepare such considerate little items in the car.

Holding the cleansing towel, Poppy took the opportunity to discreetly wipe her face, masking the sourness in her eyes.

Declan coldly remarked, "No need. Save what little money you have for your daughter’s medical treatment."

Indeed.

Up until Mr. Hale passed, he had hoped to get a reservation for a Wrangler, which Poppy remembered would cost over 1.23 million.

That car’s configuration was very similar to Declan’s.

This kind of car, a few dozen bucks for cleaning fees wasn’t worth noticing.

Nevertheless, Poppy hadn’t expected to see Declan there.

With her face dry, Poppy looked at Declan, "Why is President Hawthorne here?"

"Didn’t you post in your social circle? I happened to be nearby."

He handed the phone to Poppy, without further comment, "Enter your address in the navigation."

His demeanor was stiff, as if Poppy was wasting his time.

After entering her neighborhood’s name, Poppy placed Declan’s phone back, "There."

Declan said no more.

He turned the car around, driving into the rain.

The window wasn’t fully closed, and Poppy was already feeling carsick.

Declan didn’t know that Poppy had been carsick since childhood, expensive car or not.

The wind blowing in and the queasy nausea kept Poppy silently enduring it.

Her thoughts flew chaotically.

Poppy wasn’t interested in cars, but the Wrangler was different.

She remembered Declan saying he didn’t like Wranglers or off-road vehicles.

Turns out Mr. Hale was right, no man dislikes this type of car.

What he disliked was her.

Mr. Hale loved Wranglers, having his heart set on one that cost over a million with no chance of getting it without connections.

He would chuckle, "When our Poppy marries, I’ll buy it for you, as a dowry."

"I’m not even fond of cars."

"But your husband surely will, no man doesn’t love this type of car!"

Poppy had asked Declan once whether he liked Wranglers.

If she married, that would be her dowry.

Declan said, "I don’t like off-road vehicles. Besides, we might not even get married."