When we reach the main drag, I scan the restaurants for signs of life.“What do you recommend?Oh, good—the Mexican’s open.”
“Nah.”Chloe points ahead, jiggling the stack of beaded bracelets on her wrist.They’re almost as colorful as her nails.It’s like she couldn’t decide which color to choose so she picked one of each.
“Keep going,” she says.“I know a better place.”
“Or, we could get Mexican food.”Chips and salsa while you wait?Yes, please.After the work I got through today, I could eat the whole menu.
“Trust me, you don’t want to go to the Mexican place tonight.”
My fingers tighten around the steering wheel.“And why is that?”
“Because you’d rather have Grandma’s Crabs.”
I glance at her profile.The sunlight streaming through the window highlights her little ski-jump nose.“Pretty sure I don’t want your grandma’s crabs.”
A puff of laughter bursts from her glossy lips.“Wow.A joke?Who are you and what have you done with Sir Butthead?”She pushes her curled hair back from her face, tucking the glossy strands behind her ears.“The reason you don’t want Mexican food is because tonight is salsa night, which means the back half of the restaurant is turned into a dance studio.You don’t seem like the kind of person who enjoys impromptu dance lessons, so I suggest going somewhere else.Somewhere like the best damn seafood restaurant on the island.”
I sigh.As much as I’d like Mexican food, dance lessons sound like hell on earth.
“Fine.”I’ll eat seafood.
“Wow.If you could contain some of that enthusiasm, that would be great.”
“Funny.”
A chuckle.“I know.”
Chloe directsme to make a left toward the beach.We drive on pitted asphalt until a seafront shack appears, its wooden walls painted in pastel stripes.Christmas lights wink from above a bunch of picnic tables and umbrellas tilted toward the sandy beach.Out front, a giant crab sculpture guards the entrance, its orange paint peeling off and one eye missing.The place doesn’t look too busy tonight, but I can imagine it being packed in the middle of summer.
We park out the front, and I do what I’d do for any woman and hold the restaurant door open for Chloe.She brushes past me with a soft “thank you,” bringing that aroma of coconut again.
We step up to the chalkboard menu nailed above the counter.
Crabs, every which way.There’s also a heap of other stuff, but surely only an imbecile would come to a crab restaurant for the first time and not try the main specialty.
“Anything take your fancy?”Chloe asks.
All of it.That’s the problem.“I think I’ll get a full order of king crab legs.”
“Good call.”She steps up to the teenager behind the counter.He’s wearing a bib like he’sthe one about to eat a pile of messy seafood.She gives him our order, and when he rings up the bill, I fling out my credit card.“l’ll get it.”
“Thanks, but I can pay for myself,” Chloe says.
“You get it the next time.”My implication that there’ll be a “next time” awkwardly hangs in the air.What the fuck, Ethan?She’s only here because she got stood up.That’s hardly going to happen again.
I divert by lifting my chin at the sign on the wall, which reads: “Valentine’s Day Special: Shell-Ebrate Your Love with Some Crabs!”
“It’s May,” I mutter.
“Oh, didn’t you know it’s Valentine’s Day every day in Inner Shores?”She nudges my ribs with her elbow and waggles her brows.
After we’ve got our dinner on two recyclable plates, I trail her outside to one of the benches facing the sand.This place looks like a stock image of a beach sunset.Even though the sun is disappearing beyond the horizon, Chloe shifts beneath the cover of the umbrella.
“I think it’s time we call a truce,” she says, settling her yellow skirt around her knees.“Your ban from Mugs has officially been lifted.You can tell Lily Jane that she doesn’t need to be your coffee mule anymore.”
Wait—Chloe knew about that?And I thought we were being so careful.
I’m sure Lily Jane will be thrilled, but I have to admit, I’ll miss seeing her first thing in the morning.She’s a nice woman, and she promised to swing by the house with her wife when Mom and Dad move in.I can see them quickly becoming friends.
