“I’m sitting.” It was all I could think of to say back.
“I can see that. But the question is . . . why?”
“Because I don’t have a lift home,” I whispered feebly.And I can’t afford a taxi, I thought.
“I didn’t hear that,” he boomed.
“I can’t get home,” I said again, not that much louder than before.
“God, could you speak up . . . never mind.” In one swift movement, he was crouching in front of me. His sudden proximity caught me off guard and I gasped.
“Repeat!” he commanded.
“I can’t get home!” I half shouted back in fright.
“Don’t you have a car?” he asked, looking around.
“It was parked in a no-parking zone and got towed away.”
“Well, that was rather stupid,” he said coldly.
“I didn’t see it,” I wailed. “I was so nervous for the interview. Oh God, I shouldn’t have come here in the first place.” Another long, loud sob escaped my lips. I went with it. I didn’t care about holding the tears back anymore. It’s not like I was ever going to see this guy again.
Another sudden throat clearing made me look up.
“Where do you live?” he asked through what was clearly a very tightly clenched jaw.
“In West Parks.” The rain was coming down even harder now.
He let out another massive sigh. I’d never heard such a loud, long, exasperated sigh before. “Come.” He stood up and started walking back to his car. I was so shocked I wasn’t even sure I’d heard him correctly until he looked over his shoulder and yelled at me.
“Are you waiting for Christmas?” He rolled his eyes.
I jumped up and ran through the rain. I opened the passenger door and climbed in. I was dripping wet and immediately, inadvertently, splashed water across his polished dashboard.
“Sorry,” I said when I saw his disapproving look. He was obviously irritated and wanted to take me home as much as someone wants a plantar wart on their toe. But I had no other choice right now and I wasn’t going to turn down a lift, even if it was fromhim.
“Try not to wet my entire car, Miss Granger.” He turned the engine on and the massive car roared to life.
“Sorry,” I whispered under my breath and tried to keep as still as possible, even though my body was shaking from the cold.
I heard another long sigh. His hand shot out and fiddled with the air conditioning, then he pointed all the vents in my direction and a blast of hot air hit my body. The relief was instant.
“Thanks,” I whispered.
“Don’t mention it,” he said dismissively as he focused on the road ahead of us.
We drove in total, awkward silence after that. I looked around the car. A sign hanging from the rear-view mirror caught my attention. It was a disabled sign and I wondered if he was one of those dickheads who used it just so he could get a good parking spot?
“Turn left into this road,” I said when we approached West Parks. I had no idea why it was called West Parks; there wasn’t a park or a tree in sight. Some weeds growing through the cracks in the pavement were the extent of the greenery in this area, not to mention that black mossy stuff that grew on the ceiling of my bathroom.
This place was a concrete jungle of old, ugly and cheap apartment housing. Most of the apartments were falling apart and a few local drug dealers had taken up residence on the streets below them. I was always very polite to them and turned down their kind offers of drugs with a sweet smile and a “maybe another day, but thanks so much for offering!” The last thing I wanted to do was offend the local dealers.
“There.” I pointed at my building.
“You live here?” He stopped the car and looked around nervously.
“Yes. But don’t worry, I doubt they’ll come out to steal your car in the rain.” I said it in jest, although I was being somewhat serious.
