Danielle paused, then stood up to say her goodbyes to everyone.
A few colleagues had gotten tipsy, so Gian offered to drive them home.
Danielle decided she'd just call a cab to the hospital—no need to trouble Gian.
The summer night felt stifling and thick, the distant sky heavy and dark as if a storm was brewing.
She kept staring at her phone, watching her ride request go unanswered.
Just then, a sleek black sedan pulled up in front of her.
The window rolled down. Harold looked at her from inside. "Looks like it's about to pour. Where are you headed? I'll give you a ride."
Danielle smiled politely, declining. "Thank you, Mr. Chapman, but I've already called for a car."
After all, he was a big shot from their partner company—it didn't feel right to impose.
Harold gave her a look. "No need to be so formal with me. Come on, get in."
Danielle glanced at the time, then at the sky, which was growing increasingly ominous, clouds piling up in dark waves.
In the end, she got in.
The car smelled faintly of sandalwood.
She settled into her seat, feeling a little awkward—the two of them didn't really know each other.
"Where to?" Harold asked.
She gave the address of the hospital, choosing not to mention her destination outright.
Once she finished, the driver started the engine and headed in that direction.
The car fell into silence again.
Harold broke it. "Did you end up picking up the tab tonight?"
Danielle smiled. "We were the hosts—it was only right. You really don't have to think twice about it."
Harold had been gracious enough to invite them out, but they weren't about to take advantage. He offered, but that didn't mean they should let him pay.
He nodded. "I'm not really much older than you, you know. No need to be so formal."
Danielle looked over, a little surprised.
Maybe he thought her "Mr. Chapman" made him sound ancient.
She grinned. "Alright, Mr. Chapman."
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