When I step outside, Austin is leaning against his car, having that usual grin plastered across his face.

"Morning, beautiful lady." He greets cheerfully, opening the door for me.

"Morning." I reply, trying to sound polite.

As we drive, he glances at me from the corner of his eye. "So, how is your dad's best friend? His name is Nolan, right?"

"Yes, Nolan. And he is recovering. Thanks for your concern."

"That's good to hear." He reaches into a paper bag on the seat beside him ...