Mmm. I could really go for some French fries right now.
Miles shoots me the side-eye, but he’s saved from responding because the server arrives with our check.
I fish a few bills out of my wallet and lay them on the table. “Worth every penny.”
He perks up, slinging an arm across the back of my chair. “You won’t have to worry about pennies when you come back to work for me.”
“Ha!” I poke him in the chest, and he laughs. “I think you meanifI come back to work for you.”
“No.” He rubs the spot where I poked him. “I’m pretty sure I got it right the first time.”
“You haven’t won yet.”
“But I will.”
Like hell.
I stand, pushing my chair back. His arm drops to his side, and I flash him a saccharine smile. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re an arrogant ass?”
“Not today.” He climbs to his feet. “But the day’s still young. Ready to check out the old drug store?”
“It’s a pharmacy museum,” I retort.
“Ah, yes. Who wouldn’t be fascinated by old bottles of strychnine and edible Vaseline?”
“Are you going to complain about everything today?” I ask, leading the way to the museum space, where antique medicine bottles and remedies are lined up on built-in shelves and old-fashioned display cases.
“I’m not complaining.” He tucks his hands in his pockets, like a child afraid he’ll break something irreplaceable. “Just making observations.”
Yeah, the unwanted kind.
“You said you wanted more history.” I sweep a hand wide to encompass the entire display. “Well, this is history.”
He trails his fingers over what I think is an antique coffee grinder. “I did say that, didn’t I?”
On impulse, I open my camera app. “Say nostalgia!”
Miles tries to turn away, but I’m too quick. The picture is…not flattering. And that’s exactly why I’m going to save it.
To remind myself that Miles isn’t all charm all the time.
Hell, I should make a game of it.
Snap a pic every time he complains, mentions winning the bet, or suggests I come back to work at Triada. Like a drinking game but with pictures.
At the rate he’s going, my photo stream will be full by sundown.
Chapter Fourteen
Miles
“We’re almost there,” Lucy announces, flashing me a bright smile. “It should be about a mile up the road, if you want to help me look.”
“That was quick.” Thanks to the mass quantities of sugar we consumed for breakfast, my hands shake as I snap my laptop closed and slide it into my bag. Despite spending several hours a day on the road, I’m not getting as much work done as I’d hoped. As it turns out, I severely underestimated the number of roadside attractions on Route 66.
My other miscalculation?
The endless bio breaks, because Lucy officially has the world’s smallest bladder.
