28 Chapter 28: Hitchhike

Subsequently, the seminar ended, and after I pretended talking to chef Brullini, I zoomed into the basement to search for Lance –– only to find his car gone without a trace.

I knew his car.

A white Bugatti Chiron sports car.

I ran in the direction of the lobby and out of the building when the elevator dinged open, hoping in all hopes that I could spot his car –– only to be stopped by the violent gushing rain.

Rotten Milk!

Why is it raining?!

My eyes went crazy, and a little misty when not a trace of Lance's car was seen.

I waited . . .

And waited . . .

And waited . . .

But no white Bugatti Chiron sports car came into view.

My hope fell right off my face as my shoulders dropped. I grabbed my phone and dialed Violet's number, who was hiding in the nearby building's parking lot.

I was hoping that Lance would take me home if he saw I did not bring my car with me.

I guess that plan is impossible now.

I was about to press the call button when that annoying voice startled me from behind.

"Hello, Miss Emery, need a ride?"

My face reverted to its stoic front as I met the gaze of Fred, who was all smiles.

"No," I replied and pressed Violet's number.

"Come on. Don't be shy. I'll take you home safely. Promise!"

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My frown deepened when he reached his hand to grab mine.

Beep!

We were startled when out of the blue, a white sports car stopped in front of us.

It was Lance's car!

Without thinking, I zoomed to his car and went into the co-pilot seat. Fortunately, it was not locked.

Lance was stunned, to say the least. He sure did not expect me to climb inside his car without asking his permission first.

"Actually, I'm just going to ask you two to give way. You're blocking the road," he said after he recovered from his shock, staring at me with his usual annoyed face.

My fingers curled on top of my legs, and my head dropped as I avoided his eyes.

When I did not answer, he sighed and continued, "Where's your car, Em? Why hasn't anyone fetch you yet?"

"I . . . uhmm . . . T-that . . ."

"Never mind."

Lance started the car and stirred the wheel to get us to the main road.

"Where should I drop you?"

"At your place," I said without thinking.

"What?!"

Lance snapped his head at me.

"I-I . . . I mean . . . M-my place . . . ?"

I bit my lips and fumbled my fingers. I did not know it became a habit when I was nervous.

"I know at your place, but which street? What address?" Lance asked, forehead creasing.

I told him my address before his eyebrows would knit together.

"Alright."

Was all he said before he completely ignored me as he shifted all his attention on the road.

I chewed on my lips while I held myself together, pretending to stare at the rainy scenery outside so he would not see the glistening tears in my eyes.

"Here."

He said after a long silence, handing me a tissue from his car compartment. I looked at him a little bewildered while his eyes never left the road.

"Wipe yourself. You'll catch a cold."

Now that he mentioned it, I realized I was a little wet. Probably due to my rash actions of sprinting outside in the rain, hoping to catch him.

I also noticed that Lance turned on the heater of his car.

His small gestures of kindness and thoughtfulness filled my heart with warmth.

"T-thank you . . . ," I mumbled, and with trembling hands, I wiped myself dry with the tissue.

"W-what're you doing! D-don't strip here!"

I almost flew out of the window when Lance stepped on the break. It was a good thing I buckled my seatbelt. My eyes shot to him, and his face was so amazingly red as he shifted his head to his left –– avoiding me entirely.

"S-sorry . . ."