Page 22 - SpontaneousSuccessMatos

the driver's seat. As he started the engine, he turned to
me with a warm smile. “Are you perhaps a fan of jazz?” he
asked, his voice dripping with theatricality.
"I nodded, and he reached into his jacket pocket,
producing a beermat with a flourish. “Ah, Brubeck-type
jazz,” I said, feeling a spark of excitement.
He grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement. “My
new project,” he said, as the Oldsmobile roared to life
beneath him.
"What project?" I asked, but he was already pulling
away.
"Come and see for yourself," he tossed over his
shoulder, a challenge in his voice.
I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being drawn
into something much bigger than myself.
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