“Sure. I’d be insane not to take you up on that offer.” She shrugged, folding her arms as she followed him to the other end of the office.
There was still a part of her that wondered if he was actually here, or if she’d fallen asleep at her desk or something. But given the dull ache in her head, and how difficult constructing a simple sentence was she doubted it was a dream.
“Lemme guess, Ferrari?” She raised her eyebrows at him.
Tony pulled back from the drawer, hands in his pockets. “I’ll get my chauffeur to drive, and no, I’ll stick with the audi since you’re coming with me.” He would’ve loved to drive by himself but the nose injury made it rather difficult, he was still trying to get his leg back into shape, and his arms, either way he needed to relax and being behind the wheel wasn’t relaxing when he knew at this rate he’d speed down the highway.
Claire followed him, “Oh no. It’ll be back to the New York Times. First he’s walking around in sweat pants, now he wants...
“I actually do have my own chef, but let’s just say as of late I’ve been living off take-out. So much for the health...