180. Intimate Dinner
Lucas threw the plastic bag at the girl, watching it fall on her lap. “Here,” he said irritably.
Amy looked at the item on her lap and wrinkled her big nose. “What is this?” she asked dumbly.
“Food,” he said.
“This is not food! This is Cinnabon,” she argued.
Lucas sighed. “Yes. Cinnabon is food. Why are you questioning it? I thought you said you were hungry.”
Amy picked up the bag, eyeing it with suspicion as though it might explode. “What, you didn’t have any real food in your creepy kidnapper stash?”
Lucas pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience rapidly dwindling. “You are testing my patience.”
“I want real food,” Amy declared. “Eric said you had dinner planned for Alicia. Well, she is not here to enjoy it, so I might as well do it in her place.”
Lucas let out a sharp breath, his frustration bubbling dangerously close to the surface. “First of all, this isn’t a five-star restaurant. Second, you’re not even supposed to be here.”
Amy arched an eyebrow, unfazed. “I don’t care. I am

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