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He held his other hand out. “Lead the way.”
The restaurant was at the back of the hotel, with open windows and some tables facing the water. We gave Louise’s name to the maître d’ at the podium, and he smiled.
“Ah yes, our special guests for the evening.”
Beck and I looked at each other. Before I could ask what that meant, we were directed to follow. We walked toward the back of the restaurant, so I thought we were going to be seated at an ocean-view table. But then the maître d’ turned and led us down a hidden set of stairs. When we got to the bottom, he opened a door, and we were outside on the beach.
A table for two had been set up along the water’s edge, under a rustling palm tree that the trade winds had bent to form an arch. White linens blew in the light breeze, while a glass hurricane lamp protected the candle in the middle from going out. I looked around. There wasn’t another table anywhere on the beach.
“This is for us?”
“Yes, madam. Is it not to your satisfaction?”
“Oh no. It’s amazing. I just… It’s very romantic.”
He smiled and looked between Beck and me. “Yes, it is.”
“Wasn’t our reservation supposed to be for three?”
The maître d’s brows drew together. “For three?”
I looked to Beck. “Are you getting the feeling I’m getting?”
He raised an eyebrow. “That my grandmother is upstairs in her room practicing calypso and not tired at all?”
“She also told me to wear this blue dress, which I now know isyour favorite color, when I mentioned I was going to wear a pink one,myfavorite color.”
“I’ll have to remember to thank her for that part.”
I looked to the maître d’. “Would you have another table? Maybe something inside?”
He frowned. “I’m afraid not. We’re fully booked this evening. Your reservation is for the Taste of the Sea Experience. It’s a seven-course tasting menu at this table only.”
“Maybe someone wants to swap with us. The couple by the stairs with the woman in the red dress looked lovey-dovey. I could ask them if they’d like to switch?”
The poor guy looked horrified.
Beck pulled his billfold from his pants pocket and peeled off some bills, handing them to the man. “This table is fine. I’ll take it from here. Thank you.”
The maître d’ couldn’t get away fast enough.
I raised my hands in confusion. “Why did you do that?”
“Because you’re being ridiculous.”
My lips pursed. “How am I being ridiculous?”
“Can we just sit and eat? It’s not going to kill you.”
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes. “Let’s get it over with.”
Beck and I took our seats, and a waiter stopped by almost immediately with the wine list.
“Are you getting your usual whiskey?” I asked him.
“I’ll have wine. Whatever you pick is fine.”
I ordered a bottle of the red I’d been enjoying by the glass since we’d arrived. Once we were alone again, the only sound was the gentle lapping of waves against the shore less than five feet away. I watched the tide pull in and out a few times, mesmerized.
