“Could you be more evasive?” I ask, attempting—and failing—to sound annoyed. “I could,” he teases, and that dimple appears. “Come on.” “But what about the Lincoln? I can’t just leave it here.” “Already taken care of. Get in. We have a flight schedule.” A flight schedule? I climb in, noting the two small suitcases tucked into the far back. “So, we’re going away away?”
