6
Jeremy dared greatly when he placed his hands on her waist as she kissed him goodnight before she slid into her car. A Mini Cooper S convertible. It was as sporty and had as much energy as the woman who drove it.
Once she had left, with a cheery double-tap of her brake lights, his car was the only one left in the Occidental Avenue parking lot. Before he could open the door, a gloss-black classic Corvette Stingray convertible pulled up so close that he had to lie against his Toyota Prius’ driver’s door to avoid being squished.
The top was down. Jack Donovan rested an arm on the windowsill and looked up at him.
“Young Master Jeremy.”
“Good evening, sir. The 1965. Nice car.” It was easily identifiable by the optional dual side exhaust pipes that ran below the driver’s door,
“It’s oh-t
