I totally forgot how cold it was outside. Shit, this sucks.

We walked left out of the bar and down a few rows of cars. Along the way, Turner occasionally kept me from stumbling into parked vehicles and light poles.

This is mortifying. I swear that truck was at least five feet away from me! How did I nearly end up on top of it?

Presumably recognizing his vehicle, Turner veered us right and down the curb on the passenger side of a sleek black sports car. 

"Here, please make yourself comfortable," he said opening the door for me.

"Ah, thank you very much."

I stepped into the vehicle, disappointed to discover it was just as cold as outside. The door shut quickly behind me, and I watched as Turner made his way around the front of his car to the driver's side door.

This guy must be super rich, I wonder what he does? There's not many well-paying jobs in this area.. maybe he's visiting? Hmm, he knew Amir though.. but I've never seen him at Al's before! Maybe he just drops by very infrequently.. or at a decent time of day. Regardless, why in the world would he take time out his day to help me? Surely he's got better things to do-

Turner swung open his door and slid into his seat. 

"Alright," he said as he started the car, "let me turn on the heat and then we can get going."

"Sure, thanks"

He messed around with a few settings on the screen of his console until a consistent blast of warm air came from every vent on the dash.

"Whew, that's nice," Turner said, rubbing his hands together.

"Yeah," I agreed.

The car fell into silence.

Fuck, I'm so awkward.

"Well then," he started, pulling on his seatbelt, "where to?"

Following his example, I also buckled in.

"Uh, I live on-"

"Wait actually," he stopped me, "could punch it into my phone instead?"

"Oh, that's ok, yeah," I confirmed.

He swiftly removed his phone from his front pocket, tapped it a few times, and gave it to me. A map blanketed the screen with buttons overlaying parts of the sides and corners. I inputted my address into the search bar at the top and pressed enter. 

"This is it," I said, handing it back to him.

I sunk back into my seat and absorbed the hot air being funneled toward me as Turner chose a route. None of them were any longer than five minutes, so he didn't have much trouble doing so. Once he selected one, he threw the car into reverse and began carefully backing up.

Turner initiated, "So, do you have any pets? I have a little kitten named Lucy. She's a beautiful orange Abyssinian and likes to climb all over the things in my place. Real troublemaker, that one."

He chuckled to himself as if remembering all of the incidents that he's had to rescue her from a particularly high piece of furniture.

"She's also got these gorgeous gold eyes, super pretty in the sunlight. And she's real cuddly once she warms up to you. Her favorite place to be pet is right behind her ears, it's adorable!"

W-what?

I giggled and he stopped. There was something about his passionate explanation for his love of his cat that I found quite funny. Maybe it was the alcohol.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, stifling another laugh, "I didn't mean to interrupt you. I can see how much you care for her, it's just that I wasn't expecting all of the surprise facts is all. Don't get me wrong though, it was really nice to hear about her- she sounds like she's really important to you- I was just a little thrown off.. i-in a good way!"

Turner burst out laughing, "I'm glad you enjoyed my tangent then! There's no need to apologize by the way, sorry for catching you off guard."

I laughed along with him, "You don't need to say sorry to me either, cat man."

"C-cat man?" he sputtered.

"It seemed fitting," I shrugged, grinning.

We absolutely lost it. Definitely the alcohol.

Once our giggles started to die down, Turner asked me again, "Alright, alright. Do you have any pets?"

"Ah, no I don't. I've never really thought about getting one to be honest," I paused, "I.. don't think I'd be able to afford it."

"Hm, well that makes sense. You're probably in school, right? It wouldn't be responsible to have a pet on top of all your studies."

College.

"Do I seem like it?"

We stopped at a red light. My mind swirled.

"Do you seem like what?" he inquired, looking over at me curiously.

Shit.

"Uh, that, er, that I'm in school," I looked down at my lap, "I mean, Does it seem like I'm in school?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," he looked back at the intersection, "I thought you seemed quite young. Believe me, I didn't mean to offend you or anything, please forgive me."

"I'm 22," I said softly.

He glanced back at me with regret knitted into his eyebrows. I cringed.

I didn't mean to make him feel worse. Dammit.

I interlocked and separated my fingers over and over again in the silence. When the light turned green, Turner spoke again.

"I've really done it now, huh?" he sighed to himself. "Hey, I'm sorry for assuming, I really am."

Fuck. Me. This never would've happened if I just laughed it off and said yes!

"O-oh no, this is my fault, really. I shouldn't have told you my age. I just.. I got caught up in my feelings is all. It wasn't necessary of me to say anything about how old I am."

"No, I'm the one who should apologize, I brought it up in the first place."

"It's alright, truly," I said quietly. 

The rest of the ride was spent in uncomfortable silence. Thankfully, we were only a minute out from my place so it wasn't throw-myself-out-of-the-window-horrible. As we pulled into the parking lot and stopped, Turner took a deep breath.

"Based on your reaction- and this will be crass of me- I assume, ahem, school is sore subject for you?"

He waited before speaking again, almost giving me a chance to confirm. I was taken aback.

Huh? What the hell do I say in this situation? Why does he want to know? Should I just get out of the car right now?

I looked over at him. He was staring out the front windshield with both hands on the wheel. His suit was a little wrinkled, and he seemed to be in just as much discomfort as I was.

He definitely doesn't seem threatening at the moment, and he's been nice to be this entire time. He doesn't appear to be asking out of ill-intent either and.. I am also a slight bit curious.

"It," I prepared myself- it's not everyday you're in a stranger's car in the wee hours of the morning with a man asking you about your biggest insecurity, "it is. Why do you ask?"

He took another deep breath.

"Have mercy," he muttered before asking, "Is it money related?"

Oh? He sure knows how to grab my attention.

"Maybe. What's it to you?"

He reached over and opened his console. His short nails scraping against the plastic inside filled the previously silent cabin with suspense. Suddenly, he stopped and brought his hand out the cavity. He closed the latch.

"Here," he said, holding a small rectangular piece of paper toward me. "It's the least I can do to compensate you for my behavior this evening."

I took it from him hesitantly.

He continued, "I'll need to evaluate your skillset, but I have a passion for helping others, and you seem like you're in a tough spot. If you want, you can find all my information on that card and contact me at a later date."

What's.. happening right now?

"The place I work.. it's not everyone's thing, but please think it over. I'll only be able to discuss more of it in a professional setting, but if you're deemed eligible for a position it'll pay well, I promise."

What in the world?

"I.. don't know what to say," I said, shocked, "Thank you."

"Of course."

Nothing felt real as I got out of his sports car and watched him drive off into the night. As I stood in the middle of the asphalt in front of my mangy apartment complex, I let gust after gust of frigid wind lash my arms and face. I couldn't even feel the cold anymore. I was over the moon.

A job. A well paying job. This must be a dream.