Chapter 5 - The Journey Across the City
The rain had turned into a steady, gray sheet by the time Colton Vale’s custom-tailored black town car pulled up to the curb outside Harbor Grill.
The chauffeur, a tall, silent man in a dark suit named Marcus, stepped out instantly with a massive umbrella, shielding the doorway from the wind. When Junie stepped out of the diner—clutching a pristine white bakery box containing the chicken pot pie and half her untouched milkshake in a to-go cup—she gasped softly.
The car interior smelled of leather, cedar, and faint, clean rain. It was quieter than a library. The seats were so soft she felt like she was sinking into a cloud.
“Is this your car?” Junie whispered, pressing her face against the tinted window as the vehicle smoothly merged into the downtown traffic.
“It’s a vehicle,” Colton said, pulling out a sleek tablet from his briefcase and reviewing a flurry of stock tickers and real estate portfolios. But within seconds, he locked the screen and set it aside, turning his full attention back to her. “Tell me, Junie. How do you get home from downtown usually?”
“We take the number 14 bus,” Junie said, holding the bakery box tightly in her lap. “Unless it’s raining too hard, then we walk under the awnings so my sneakers don't get soaked through.”
Colton looked down at her shoes. They were worn canvas sneakers with frayed edges, the kind of cheap footwear that offered no protection against puddles. A quiet anger stirred in his chest—not a hot, sputtering rage, but the cold, focused fury of a man who spent his life fixing structural flaws.
“Marcus,” Colton said, his voice cutting through the hum of the engine.
“Yes, Mr. Vale?” the chauffeur replied smoothly through the intercom.
“Make a detour. Stop by the children’s boutique on 5th and Pine. The one owned by Madame Laurent.”
“Sir, that store is private appointment only,” Marcus noted without missing a beat.
“Tell Madame Laurent that Colton Vale is at the door, and he requires a complete winter wardrobe for a very important young lady within twenty minutes, or I’ll buy the building her boutique sits in and turn it into a parking garage.”
Junie’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. “You can’t do that! That’s mean!”
Colton let out a low chuckle, a genuine, warm sound that reached his eyes. “It’s called leverage, Junie. In the corporate world, it’s considered basic negotiation. But don't worry—Madame Laurent and I are old friends. She’ll appreciate the drama.”
Ten minutes later, the town car pulled up to a storefront with wrought-iron gates and glowing warm lights. Within moments, an elegant woman in a cashmere sweater burst through the doors with three assistants, holding armfuls of thick wool coats, leather boots, cashmere sweaters, and lined trousers.
They didn't even let Junie out of the car. They brought the clothes to her, measuring her with practiced, lightning-fast eyes, dressing her in a heavy, cream-colored wool coat with pearl buttons, soft leather boots lined with sheepskin, and a knitted pink beanie that made her look like a winter princess.
When Junie looked at herself in the vanity mirror built into the back of the car seat, she didn't recognize the child staring back.
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“I look... I look like a picture in a magazine,” she whispered, touching the soft wool of her sleeve in awe.
“You look like you belong in this city, just as much as anyone else,” Colton said quietly. He leaned forward and tapped the partition. “To the Rivera residence, Marcus. Let’s go meet Elena.”
