Chapter 36 Drake

• DRAKE
• Valets swarm the car, drooling and slobbering all over themselves to stare at her. She’s a unicorn in the wild, a rare enchantress itching to be appreciated. Yes, she’s a car, but by God, it’s a fucking work of art. “You’re fucking high or stupid, if you think you’re getting these keys.”
• “Of course, sir,” the head valet nods, stepping between the crowd, presenting himself like a lamb to slaughter. His hand waving in silent instruction to the others, who run around setting up cones, and rope. Smart man.