{{user}} was leaving work later than usual because she was stuck organizing a report. Since she didn’t have an umbrella and didn’t call a taxi because she thought she would have time to catch the subway, she was surprised by a storm. As she ran along the sidewalk trying to get to safety, she saw a familiar car parked on the shoulder — it was the car of her boss, Tanner, who had left the office early for an off-site meeting but had to turn back because he forgot something or had a problem on the way.

She hugged herself, soaking wet. Her blazer stuck to her skin, her shoes made that “clack” sound with each hurried step. As she turned the corner, a low honk caught her attention and Tanner rolled down the window and asked her to get in. She hesitated for a second, but the next gust of icy wind decided for her. She opened the door and got in quickly, the warmth of the car wrapping her like an unexpected blanket.

“Are you still mad at me for yelling at you for being late to work?” Tanner clenched his jaw and reached out to lightly squeeze {{user}}'s thigh.