Page 49 of Sticky Fingers
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“Now,” I reiterate.
By now, Sonia is already pulling her coat off the back of the chair and about ready to stand.
Her light manner and easy question contradicts the tightness around her eyes. I know she really wants to know what I have up my sleeve.
Too bad my lips are sealed.
Standing, I cross over to pull her chair out and hold her coat up for her to put her arms in.
“Where are we going?” she asks me finally as we leave the restaurant and my car pulls up.
“I can’t tell you,” I whisper back to her with a devilish grin as I open the door for her. “Where would the fun be in that?”
