The black door to the Escalade closes behind Trey and he clicks his seatbelt into place before our driver, the same guy from Sunday, makes it back to his position behind the wheel.
"Will you tell me where we're going now?" I question.
Around lunch when he asked to pick me up from work and promised to provide me with dinner, I didn't hesitate in my answer. Now, I'm slightly nervous. Never mind. Slightly nervous went out the window an hour ago. The deadline inched closer and closer, and I sailed right into freaking the hell out.
Trey leans toward me to look out the window on my side. "We're going to do a quick touristy thing and then dinner at my place."
"Should I change my shoes?" I lift the leg closest to him to show off my bright red Jimmy Choo heel. I'm a New Yorker. I'll walk in hee
