Page 31 of Ransom
"Not what?" He set his menu down and leaned forward. "Not here on a date? Ransom, we already did this backwards. Figured I owed you dinner before we do it again."
My brain blew a fuse, and I just stared at him.
"Besides," Winston continued, "we need to blend in. Two men at a dinner theater on a Friday night? That's a date. Nobody's going to look twice." He shrugged. "Two men checking exits and looking suspicious? That gets noticed."
He had several points, and I hated all of them.
A server appeared, a young guy dressed like a gunslinger with a name tag that said BILLY.
"Howdy, partners! Can I start y'all off with some drinks?"
"Coke," I said.
"I'll take the Outlaw Milkshake," Winston said. "Biggest one you've got."
Billy grinned and left.
I arched an eyebrow at Winston. "A milkshake."
"It comes with a chocolate revolver. When am I going to get another chance to drink out of something that ridiculous?" He leaned back and looked around, eyes moving over the security along the walls without his face moving with them. "When's the last time you went on a date, Ransom?"
"That's not your business," I said quietly.
"Fair enough." He didn't look away. "But I'm guessing it's been a while. So humor me. Pretend you're a man who gets to sit down somewhere ridiculous with someone who thinks you're worth the drive. Just for tonight."
The lights dimmed before I could come up with a response.
A voice boomed over speakers. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WELCOME TO BONNEY RANCH!"
The crowd cheered. Pyrotechnics exploded. Riders on horses filled the ring, firing blanks and doing tricks.
Winston leaned forward, grinning.
Billy arrived with our drinks. Winston's milkshake was a monstrosity topped with whipped cream and a chocolate revolver. He bit the barrel off immediately.
The show kept going: saloon brawls, jailbreaks, a woman singing something Patsy Cline would've sued over.
Then the lights went red, and the music changed.
A spotlight hit the far end of the arena where Rex Rawlins walked out of the smoke.
He wore a white suit, a turquoise bolo tie, and a white Stetson with a rattlesnake band. His face was tanned in a way that looked expensive. You look like a man who's never met a check he couldn't cash. Or a horse he couldn't break.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, GIVE IT UP FOR YOUR HOST THIS EVENING: RATTLESNAKE REX RAWLINS!" the announcer bellowed.
The crowd erupted.
Rex raised both hands like a preacher. "WELCOME TO BONNEY RANCH, WHERE LEGENDS LIVE AND OUTLAWS NEVER DIE!"
While Rex made his opening speech, I scanned the arena. At least a dozen armed men in tactical gear lined the walls, all private security. A man like Rex didn't put twelve guys in vests around a tourist trap unless the tourist trap wasn't really the business.
"Well now. Looks like we got some special guests tonight."
I blinked, and it took me a minute to realize that Rex was coming straight over to us.
My stomach dropped through the floor and kept going.
Winston's hand landed on my thigh under the table.
