“Want to watch a movie or something?” he asked. “I’m told that’s what you do on Saturday nights.” I bobbed my head. I didn’t take the bait. “Yeah.” The car slowed on a side street and Bowen rolled down the driver’s side window. “Thanks,” he called to a person dressed in a chef’s coat. He set two large paper bags in the front seat and sped off. “What was that?” I asked. “I texted Bowen an hour ago to order everything on the dessert menu and have it ready to pick up,” Ryan said. “I never forget my promises to you.”
