The Billionaire's Brat Wants Me

After breakfast, we loaded everything into my Mercedes GLS 580, my first car, bought two years ago after finally being promoted to Senior Financial Analyst. Val had packed our lunch—well, she had packed everything. I didn't know exactly what was in it yet, but the faint scent wafting from the coolers was enough to make my stomach growl even though I'd just finished eating a few hours ago. Fruits, sandwiches, something that smelled suspiciously like a homemade granola mix, and a few things that looked like she had gone above and beyond for a little gourmet flair.

The drive was easy, the roads relatively clear, and for a little while, it felt like nothing could touch our perfect Sunday. Val sat in the passenger seat, tapping away on her phone every so often, occasionally showing me a quick message from Naomi or snapping photos of the passing scenery. I was still somewhere between focused on the road and daydreaming about her lunch when a sudden sound cut through the calm.

Thunk-thunk.

"What was that?" Val's voice shot out, startled.

I froze for a split second. "I… have no idea."

I eased the car to the side of the road, careful not to hit the curb, and parked. The familiar dread of flat tires settled in my chest. I stepped out, taking in the rear passenger side tire, and there it was. Something bigger than a nail, lodged straight through the rubber, sticking out like an uninvited guest.

I let out a low whistle and shook my head. "Well, looks like we've got a flat."

Val tilted her head at me, that curious, focused look of hers that always made me feel like she was weighing the situation from every angle. "You're going to change it?" she asked.

"Yeah… I'll handle it," I said, though even to my own ears it sounded less confident than intended.

She slid out of her seat and walked closer, leaning slightly against the car as if supervising, but in that I-trust-you-but-I'm-here-if-you-fail way that made me chuckle.

> "You sure you don't want help?"

"I've got it," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. I crouched beside the tire and reached for the jack in the boot, but then froze.

Nothing.

I blinked at the empty space where it should have been. "Right," I muttered. "I didn't take it back from Trent after the last time we—"

Val's eyes narrowed, a hint of mischief flickering in them as she asked, "What's wrong?"

"The jack… it's not here," I said, gesturing helplessly to the empty space in the boot.

"Oh. W—" She didn't finish, already pulling out her phone with quick efficiency.

"Who are you calling?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Her lips quirked in that confident smirk I loved. "A roadside service. One of my contacts—I'll have someone here in no time. They'll bring the tools we need."

I blinked at her. "You have contacts for this?"

She waved me off. "Of course. Celestia Valentina Moreau doesn't rely on flat tires to ruin a day."

Her fingers flew over the screen, muttering softly as she spoke. "Yes, we're currently at… uh, the northbound exit near Pineway Road… exactly between mile markers 47 and 48… yes, that's right… thank you." She ended the call, sliding the phone back into her bag.

I glanced at her, impressed despite the situation. "How long did they say?"

"About two hours," she said, almost casually, as if that was nothing at all.

"Oh." I leaned back against the hood of the car, feeling both defeated and helpless. Two hours. Two hours with a flat tire, no jack, and a long drive still ahead.

And that's how what was supposed to be a perfect Sunday morning quietly tipped into a minor adventure—one with a flat tire, no tools, and two very stubborn people determined to make the best of it anyway.

---

I was still staring at the flat tire, trying to figure out how two hours could stretch into what felt like an eternity, when she nudged my shoulder lightly. "You alright?"

I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. "Yeah… I'll survive."

She smiled at me, that little curve that could brighten the grayest of days. "Hey… it's alright. Two hours isn't so bad—we'll make the best of it."

I shook my head, part exasperated and part completely in awe. "You really have thought of everything, haven't you?"

"Of course," she said, brushing imaginary dust off her hands like it was the simplest thing in the world. "We have food, we have shade, and I have my husband to keep me entertained."

I couldn't help but grin. Even stranded on the side of a highway, she had a way of making it feel… manageable. Perfect, even.

I glanced down the empty stretch of road, then back at her. The wind tousled her hair slightly, sunlight catching the golden highlights, and I thought, just like this, no matter what happens, it's fine. We'll figure it out. Together.

She picked up one of the small containers she had brought along, opened it slightly, and offered me a taste. "Want a snack while we wait?"

I accepted, taking a bite of the perfectly crafted granola bar she had made. The flavor was rich and balanced, and for a moment, I forgot we were stuck on the side of the road. I looked at her. "This… is amazing. Of course it is, you made it."

Val tilted her head, a playful sparkle in her eyes. "What? Are you impressed?"

"Yes. Yes, I am," I admitted, smiling.

She laughed softly, shaking her head. "Good. Now help me move these to the shade while we wait for the service, or I'll carry everything myself."

"Yes ma'am," I said, getting to my feet. Together we rearranged the food, laughing quietly as we balanced containers and tried not to trip over our own feet.

By the time we finished, we were sitting back in the car, the containers arranged neatly beside us, the sun streaming through the windshield, and a small breeze fluttering the edges of Val's hair.

I looked at her, watching her take in the scenery, her expression peaceful, and thought: Even a flat tire can't ruin this. Not with her around.

And somewhere in the calm, I reminded myself again of the little voice that always guided me through the chaos—the one that said we're never doing any of this alone. Not really.

With that thought, I sank back into the seat, letting the scent of her lunch and the soft warmth of the morning fill the space between us. The perfect Sunday had stumbled a little, yes, but it wasn't broken. Not with Val by my side.

---

Not long after the call, the sound of an approaching vehicle signaled their arrival. I squinted against the sun, seeing a sturdy white van pull to the side of the road. Two men stepped out, one slightly taller, carrying a clipboard, the other hefting a large toolbox. They moved with that kind of confidence you only see in people who've done this a thousand times before.

The taller one, clearly the one in charge, approached first. "Good morning. Are you Mrs Moreau?" He paused, glancing at Val.

"Mrs Tanaka," she corrected gently, a small smile tugging at her lips.

He gave a quick, apologetic bow. "Ah! My apologies, Mrs Tanaka. I'm Asher, and this is Gomez. We'll have you back on the road in no time."

Val gave a soft laugh. "No worries. Let's get started, shall we?"

Asher nodded, flipping open a clipboard to confirm the details, while Gomez went straight for the tools and spare tires. I watched as they moved, the rhythm of professionals in action, and couldn't help but feel a little grateful. Even with a flat tire, it was kind of fascinating to see someone else handle the problem so efficiently.

"So, a Mercedes GLS 580, right?" Asher asked, glancing at the van and then at the car. "Don't see too many of these on this route. Pretty nice ride."

Val tilted her head with a playful grin. "Yes, my husband loves it. But don't worry, it comes with its own set of challenges."

Asher chuckled. "I can imagine. Well, let's get that tire swapped out. Gomez, take the jack from the van, the spare is in there just in case, but looks like he has his own."

Gomez nodded and crouched by the wheel, already loosening the bolts. "This should be quick. Flat's clean, nothing too crazy."

I leaned against the hood, watching the process. "So, this won't take too long, right?"

Asher glanced at me, a friendly smirk in place. "Less than ten minutes, maybe. It's all about the prep."

I gave a small smile in response, still a little flustered from the flat tire chaos. "Yeah… you're right."

Gomez finished lifting the flat and sliding the spare into place. "Alright, bolts on. Tighten… and done." He stepped back, brushing his hands. "Good as new."

Asher crouched to double-check the lug nuts. "Everything looks perfect. Smooth job, Gomez."

"Thanks," Gomez replied, giving a quick nod.

Asher turned toward us with a polite bow. "Mrs Tanaka, Mr Tanaka, all set. You two be careful out there, alright?"

Val laughed softly. "Thank you, gentlemen. You've saved our day."

Asher smiled, tipping an imaginary hat. "Happy to help. And again, my apologies for the mix-up with your name."

Val waved him off lightly. "Really, it's fine."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Honestly, don't worry about it. You did more than enough."

We watched them drive off, leaving only a faint trail of dust behind. I exhaled, relaxing back against the hood, the tension of the flat tire slowly easing away.

Val nudged me with her elbow, her grin wide and mischievous. "See? Told you. We'd make the best of it."

I couldn't help but smile back at her. "Alright… you were right again. I'll admit it."

She tilted her head playfully. "You'll learn to stop doubting me one day."

"Maybe," I replied, easing the car back into the lane. "But don't count on it too soon."

Val laughed, settling back into the passenger seat with that unmistakable glint in her eyes. The kind of glint that made even the most mundane of delays feel like an adventure.

I started the engine, feeling the weight of the road ahead. It was still a long drive, but somehow, with Val there, the flat tire and the small hiccup of the morning felt trivial. We had each other, and that was enough.

The hum of the Mercedes merged with the soft music from the dashboard, blending into the quiet rhythm of the road. I stole one last glance at Val, smiling softly at the way she arranged her hands on her lap, the sunlight catching the highlights of her hair.

And in that simple, stolen moment, I reminded myself of the little victories—the tiny ways we navigated life's unexpected bumps together. Two hours waiting, one flat tire, but also laughter, connection, and the quiet joy of just being with her.

The car rolled steadily back onto the open road, and I let my thoughts drift, just letting the moment linger.

This was our Sunday, perfectly imperfect in every way, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

---

To be continued...