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happy they got paid to only wait on us. It must’ve been a fairly slow workday for them.
    As we walked outside, the sting of the night air wrapped around my body and I shivered. With the hairs on my arm standing up, Blake looked at me, as he must’ve seen me struggling.
    “ Here,” he said, taking off his blazer.
    “ Oh, you don’t have to—”
    “ I want to. Besides, I feel fine,” he said, opening my door for me.
    His car, a shiny black Italian supercar, had curves in all of the right places. The inside, wrapped in jet black leather with red stitching, had the faintest scent of wealth as I felt the backs of my thighs against what felt like velvet. This sure beat Nicolette’s car clear out of the water.
    Blake got in and locked himself into the racing-style chair before shifting it into drive and taking off like a bat out of hell. With only his left hand on the wheel he zipped through the streets as the car performed every command he gave it.
    We didn’t say much during the drive, as his focus seemed to be solely on driving. There was no music, not even the faintest hint of a favorite Internet radio station, and all I did was look out of the tinted windows as each person we passed looked on with envious eyes.
    After about fifteen minutes, mostly due to traffic, we arrived at a large building that had an underground parking garage. It must’ve been at most eight or nine stories, but it was wide and had an almost affluent look and design that definitely didn’t fit in with the buildings around it.
    Blake pressed a button and the hulking metal door opened, and we slowly drove through it, before he triggered it to quickly close behind us. There were other cars here, though not many spaces open, if any. The floors weren’t concrete, but a white epoxy-style finish with gold flakes speckled throughout.
    Blake pulled forward in front of an industrial-looking elevator that sat with its doors closed. He pressed another button, though this time the elevator door opened three sets of doors. Two metal ones, one opening vertically and one horizontally, and a screen-like one that rolled upwards.
    “ Do we get out?” I asked, with my hand on the seatbelt buckle.
    “ No,” he said, before slowly driving into the elevator.
    “ What…what are you doing?” I asked in a panicked tone.
    “ Going to my apartment,” he said as he looked at me, completely calm.
    “ In here?” I asked, looking around.
    “ Of course,” he replied as the doors closed behind us.
    The cab unlocked below us and started moving upwards, and I heard heavy motors pulling us. Just as we had gone about ten feet up, however, something happened. Windows, all lined up in front of us, showed us the water outside, with each foot we went up taking us one foot closer to the stars. It was so beautiful—seeing all of the cars driving below as some people stopped to take pictures in the distance. The moonlight fought for dominance with the harsh city lights, which were reflecting on the wake of the bay. It was mesmerizing.
    The elevator stopped and the doors of the car unlocked. We got out and I stood there for a second as Blake, who was standing outside the elevator now, waited patiently. I turned back around and grabbed his hand as he extended it so I could walk over the exposed crease that was between the elevator floor and the floor of his apartment. I peeked down as I walked across, and saw the dizzying height below. I shook it off, smiled, and as I came inside, Blake pressed a button and the shaft door closed.
    “ Well, this is it,” he said, extending his arms.
    I was in awe.
    The floor we were on was actually two stories tall, with a vaulted ceiling above the living area accentuated with dark wooden beams that contrasted with the medically white ceiling.
    Art, some of which looked like it cost millions of dollars, hung on the walls, some of it enclosed in glass with small lights shining down on the canvases. His furniture, a slate gray, wrapped around