I'm in a very large Mercedes. I accidentally turn on the seat warmer, and my ass is on fire. I'm wearing a long wool skirt and a cotton blouse. Jarrod chose my outfit from my closet, saying it was the most acceptable attire I had for meeting his family.
Besides the clothes on my back and my purse, I have a small suitcase filled with my clothes in the trunk of his car. Jarrod tells me someone will pack up the rest of my belongings and close my apartment for me. This is how billionaires do things. In other words, they don't do things. They have other people do things for them.
Jarrod drives like a bat out of hell out of Esperanza. The little town has been my home for the past six years, and I'm sad to say goodbye. I thought it would be my home for years to come while I did research at the
