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As the performance ended, Charlotte jumped up and led the audience in a standing ovation. Marc stood up to join in, admiring Charlotte’s passion for the opera. Score! He was happy he’d picked the right first date for them.
“Are you hungry? I figured we could wing it for dinner since I wasn’t sure what time the opera would be over.”
She flashed him a brilliant smile. “How about Sal’s Diner?” she said in a teasing tone.
Marc chuckled and looked down at his suit jacket. “I think we’re a little overdressed for Sal’s, but maybe next time.”
“Next time for sure,” Charlotte said. “How about Huey’s Southern Café? It’s a nice compromise. Not too fancy and not too casual.”
“I’ve never been there, but I’m cool with it,” Marc said.
Charlotte’s eyes threatened to pop out of her head. “You’ve never been to Huey’s? Seriously?”
“Not even once,” Marc said, enjoying the outrage etched on Charlotte’s face.
“Well then it’s settled. We’re going to Huey’s.”
Marc laughed. “At this point, I know better than to object.”
Marc walked Charlotte to her car and hopped into the passenger seat. She then drove him to his car so he could follow behind her. Next time they went out Marc was going to pick her up at her house or Savannah House. This driving around in two cars was for the birds. He wanted the whole date experience—opening her car door for her, letting her pick the radio station in the car, walking her up to her front door and kissing her goodnight.
The kiss goodnight. Marc would be lying if he told himself it didn’t matter. It mattered. He wanted to kiss Charlotte. And he’d been thinking about it for quite some time now. He didn’t want to rush things since it was their first date, although in reality they had been in each other’s presence for a few weeks now.
Yes, he was going to attempt to kiss Charlotte Duvall tonight. There was chemistry between them, something electric humming and buzzing in the air between them. Marc wasn’t a man who felt like this very often. When Gretchen died Marc had felt bereft. He’d always believed love only came around once in a lifetime.
Little by little Charlotte was showing him that love might just be in his future.
* * *
Huey’s Southern Café was one of those restaurants that felt like home. Charlotte had been coming to this establishment on River Street ever since she was little girl. Her father had been one of the very first customers when it had opened up in nineteen eighty-seven. Lincoln Duvall was a man who knew what he liked, and when he liked something he stuck with it. In this one way, he and Charlotte were similar. The building was a cotton warehouse made of balastone and brick. Floor to ceiling windows allowed a picturesque view of the Riverwalk area.
Once they were settled in to a table with a great view of the river, they began to peruse their menus. Since Marc knew Charlotte was an expert on this particular restaurant, he asked her to select the appetizers. When the waiter came to the table, Charlotte ordered the fried green tomatoes, two pieces of cornbread and a bottle of Chardonnay.
“Nicely done,” Marc said with a nod.
“I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.”
“What do you recommend for the main entrée?” Marc asked, placing his menu face down on the table.
“Hmm. You can’t go wrong with the crab cakes, which is what I’m ordering. The oysters are also good and the catfish is delicious. And the seafood platter is scrumptious, but I wouldn?
?t order it unless you’re truly famished. There’s a lot of food on that plate.”
Marc tried to hide his smirk between his hand, but Charlotte’s eyes were trained on him. “What’s so funny?” she asked.
“You’ve basically memorized this menu. Pretty impressive.”
Charlotte began to chuckle. “Basically. Morgan used to cook here before she went to Paris to work over there for a brief stint. We used to come in here all the time to support her, so I think I’ve tried everything on the menu.”
“I’ve heard she’s really talented.”
“She is. All of the guests are raving about her food. You should try her cuisine. Come over to Savannah House for lunch one day. She’ll treat you like a King, especially after all the work you’ve done for us regarding Holloway. We’re indebted to you, especially after you made that trek to Martha’s Vineyard.”
Just then the sommelier came to the table and began pouring their wine into their glasses as he told them all about the wine they’d chosen. He placed the bottle on the table and discreetly disappeared.
Marc made a face. “I’m not sure I was as successful as I’d hoped. I really wanted to disqualify Holloway as any type of actual link to Miss Hattie and her family, but that didn’t happen.”
“Marc, you did the legwork for us and now we all know what might be coming around the hill. I think we all wanted to believe he was just some crank.” Charlotte shrugged. “Let’s talk about something else. Talking about Holloway makes my stomach hurt.”
