Page 17 of Whiskey's Redemption

He gives me a sweet smile, and “You’re welcome.”

Closing my door, he opens the back and sets the bags on the floor before hopping around to the driver's seat. “You’ll like it, I’m sure.”

“I’m trusting you, Jamieson.”

“I haven’t given you a reason not to, have I, Carli?” He’s serious, stoic, and he sounds almost worried. I need to lighten up the conversation.

“Well, if you pull up at a strip club or a brothel and I rush in before you, don’t be surprised.”

“Never a dull moment with you, Carli. Never.”

“Did you expect less?” I quip off.

Quieting, without answering my taunt, Jamieson pulls onto the road. With a quick jaunt down Santa Monica Boulevard, we park a few streets over from the famous pier.

“Ready?” he asks with that quick smile, popping his seat belt.

Looking around, surprised at his location, I don’t move at first. “Really? We’re eating at a tourist attraction? The pier?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to seem predictable, now would I? It’s no fun when you know what I’m about to do.”

True.

Fine. I guess I can play his game.

“Lead on then, Mr. Crown. Our lunch awaits.”

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