The hum of the car was steady until Darren killed the engine in front of the old Chinese store. The place looked the same as it always did—red lanterns swaying tiredly, dust on the windows, the smell of spice and tobacco drifting faintly out.
Darren unbuckled, stretching his arms. “I can’t go empty-handed there,” he said, glancing at me. “My father-in-law will skin me alive if I show up bare.” He forced a grin. “Help me grab some good wine inside?”
I smirked faintly, pushing open the door. “Wine for your father-in-law, huh? Expensive taste.”
Darren pulled a few bills from his wallet and pressed them into my hand before I could argue. “Don’t give me that look. Just get something decent. I’ll wait in the car.”
“Lazy bastard,” I muttered, stepping out and shoving the money into my pocket.
