Chapter Fifty-Two
Jen
Dylan’s eyes had gone hazy and mellow. You. Are. Welcome.
YouAreWelcomeI looked out the window and we were nearing the Orange County beaches.
Nice. A hotel down here wouldn’t have any paparazzi and John Wayne Airport was nearby for our private plane to whatever warm place he’d picked.
Nice.Our driver must’ve been speeding, for the trip took forty minutes even with light traffic.
We stopped at a small resort and the lobby light was still on. I pitied the clerk having to serve people near midnight on Christmas. Short straw? Or no family.
Dylan, redressed, removed our suitcases and extended the pull handles, then went to the driver’s window. “Thanks for working overtime, man.” He slipped him some cash.
“Merry Christmas, sir. Enjoy your honeymoon.”
“Count on it.”
