“You’ve sold a lot of paintings tonight.”
“And it wasn’t even the purpose of the night. Maybe you’re my lucky charm.” He stepped in closer, close enough to smell her perfume. “I might have to take you to my next show.”
She turned, his face only a breath from her. “I’d like that.”
He could kiss her right now. She seemed so genuinely interested. This kind of event wasn’t everyone’s idea of a good time, but he rather liked meeting people. You never knew who might show up on any given night. “Come on, let’s go grab some food before we miss that sunset. I’m starving.”
He placed his hand on the small of her back and led her through the room. He caught others admiring her beauty, but she didn’t even seem to notice, which made her even more beautiful to him.
“This restaurant has been open for years, but not as a fine dining establishment. At one time, it served boaters who were enjoying the river, and the folks who were using the equestrian center. It was almost a sort of camp-style eatery or cafeteria, I guess. But now, you’ll see this is definitely fine dining.”
They walked through a beautifully manicured garden between the gallery and the restaurant. Fresh herbs grew between other ornamental plants.
“Smell that? Rosemary,” she said with a smile. “I love that smell. Do they have a specialty here?”
“Interesting that you ask. It’s a unique combination of southern cuisine and seafood with a twist, but the menu changes daily depending on what the chef has purchased locally. No idea what they’ll have out tonight since it’s more of a self-serve buffet.”
They walked inside. Crisp, white tablecloths covered every table. Hurricane chimneys protected them from the candles lit on each one.
Tonight, the longest, white-clothed table that could fit from one end of the room to the other held a scattered charcuterie. Everything from the typical olives, cheese, spreads, and crusty breads, to caviar, pâté and filet mignon bites, cured meats, and smoked salmon. Fresh summer vegetables, sliced and cubed, filled multi-level trays. Fruits and cheeses of all types looked like artwork.
The wine flowed, and there were bottles of red and white, as well as a champagne fountain.
“This looks incredible.” Whitney lifted a plate and handed him one. “Where do we even begin?”
Matthew pointed across the way, where a chef wearing a tall white hat carved a huge hunk of beef. “This boy is going right in for the good stuff.”
“Ooh. That looks great. I’m going to get a little of this. I’ll meet you over there.”
He made his way to the carving station. “Good evening,” Matthew said to the chef.
“Medium rare?” he asked.
“I’ll take rare if you can.”
“Absolutely.” With all the finesse of a sculptor, the chef served the beef to his plate.
To the right of the carving station, there was a simple layout of hot sides.
“What else did you find over here?” Whitney approached him.
“Hey, I was just checking it out. Looks like fingerling potatoes, broccoli, or braised brussels sprouts. Do you eat brussels sprouts?”
“Love them!”
“Ugh. Well, I guess it’s good we have some differences. For the record, not a fan. I love broccoli and asparagus, though.”
“Noted. I might mention now that I don’t cook very often,” she admitted.
“I do, but that means you won’t get brussels sprouts when I cook, so indulge on them here,” he joked.
She picked up the tongs and put a few on her plate. “I can take a hint.” She spun away from him and had the chef shave a little beef on her plate.
With plates full of food, Matthew suggested they walk outside. “It’s noisy in here. Let’s try to catch that sunset.”
“I’m with you.” She was on his heels as he led them through a set of French doors to a patio.
“Whew,” she said. “It was so quiet in the gallery and so loud in there. My brain is scrambled.”
