“How are things going with Luke?” Mom got down to brass tacks. I knew this was coming.
“Good,” I said.
“Just good?” she asked.
“Yeah. No. I mean, they’re great.”
“Do you really see a future with him?” she asked.
This wasn’t a question I was prepared to answer. But her testy expression told me she expected to hear one.
“I think so.”
It wasn't a convincing answer. Even though he was nice, attentive, and kind—oh, and handsome, I still wasn't convinced he was the one.
The look on Mom’s face told me she wasn't convinced—not with my answer and not with Luke.
“It’s something you need to figure out,” she said, not unkindly.
“How are you supposed to know?” I asked without thinking.
She paused for a second before answering. “You just do. But Allie, it’s easy to be wrong. But by far the worst thing is to keep stringing someone along when deep down you know something’s missing.
Talking about love with my divorced mother on Valentine’s Day wasn’t exactly the wisest thing I could do. But something about those words stung deep down in the pit of my stomach.
All of a sudden, there was a soft knock at the door. The dogs went ballistic, yapping, barking, scrambling toward the front door.
“Are you expecting someone?” Mom asked.
“Kate,” I said. “But not for hours.”
“Then who—”
The faint knocking sounded again. I knew who it was.
“Miss Jeanie,” I said, pursing my lips. “Do you mind making something for three?”
“Sorry, Allie,” Miss Jeanie said. “I didn’t realize you had company. It’s just, well, it’s just I’m feeling lonely today. I thought for sure this year I was going to have a Valentine. It’s been some time since my husband, Kenneth, passed.”
“I understand,” I said. In all of our talks, I’d never asked her about her husband. Now didn’t exactly seem like the time. Or at least I didn’t think so.
“Oh, how long ago was that?” Mom asked.
“It’s been ten years, shug,” Jeanie said. “He had cancer. I kept telling him to quit that smoking. In fact, sometimes I can still smell his pipe tobacco when I sit in the sitting room.”
“He smoked a pipe?” Mom’s tone changed. “So did my daddy.”
I gave her a quizzical look. “This was before your time,” she said. “He quit as soon as he had grandchildren.”
“Smart man,” Miss Jeanie said. “Not that Kenneth wasn’t but…”
“What did he do?” Mom asked.
“I’d say he was a teacher, but that’s not exactly right. He was a coach first. A teacher second. Football, baseball, basketball. He loved them all. And I was at every game.”
“That’s sweet,” Mom told her. “Now, I was thinking about cooking up some burgers. Would you care for one?”
“Shug, I’d love a burger.”
“Me too,” I said.
Jeanie found a seat next to Bella, who took to her, licking her fingers. Nicky, ever skeptical of strangers, clung to me.
“Your detective friend had me come to the station yesterday,” Miss Jeanie said. “You know if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he might think I did it.”
I’d resolved myself not to say anything to her. But since she brought it up…
“I think he’s got to pursue all avenues. Even the ones that seem far-fetched.”
“You didn’t hear him talking to me,” Jeanie said. “I’m not so sure he thinks it’s far-fetched. I told him about Cleo. But he didn’t seem to pay me any mind—if you can believe it.”
I could believe it.
“What did he want to know?” I asked her. I could see Mom in the kitchen, pretending she wasn’t listening in on our conversation.
“He wanted to know if I knew about Mel’s medication. I told him what I did know. He asked if I ever touched it. I said I hadn’t. He asked if he could check my, uh, DNA. I told him he could. Then he asked me about the break-in a couple of months ago.”
“The break-in?”
“Oh, shug, it was nothing. Some hoodlum boys visiting their grandmother got bored. They found Mel’s door unlocked and came inside. They took his Blu-ray machine and a watch, I think. They caught the boys. But it taught Mel a lesson. He never left his door unlocked after that.”
“Hmm…” That struck me as odd for several reasons. For one, Dot and Thelma said he always left his door unlocked. For two, I couldn’t believe someone would break into an elderly person’s apartment. Maybe I didn’t want Grandmother to move back to Mossy Oaks after all.
The sizzling of the pan died away. “Lunch is ready,” Mom said.
We ate, the three of us. When the movie finished, I bid them farewell. I had a date to get ready for, and a lot of things on my mind. Was Luke the one? And if Melvin had locked his door, how did his killer get into his apartment?
16
Luke kindly held the door open as I jumped over the threshold, shivering. The night had cooled off considerably. I was regretting the polka-dotted dress even more so than I had when I put it on.
But all my worries were brushed aside when I saw Kate standing there in a too short skirt. We had done makeup together but were picked up separately. And for that, I was thankful.
And like Kate, every gal in Sadie’s was dressed similarly. All the while the guys got away with long-sleeve shirts and sport coats. Why do they get to be warm? I could feel the hairs on my freshly shaven legs prickle.
He reached down and grabbed my hand as we walked toward the hostess stand. It was crowded with people still waiting for seats. We added two more to an area meant to hold only a handful of people.
The hostess smiled up at Luke. “What name is your reservation under?” she asked.
Luke’s face fell. He looked over at Marcus, but I couldn’t see what he was doing. “Wait,” he said. “We need a reservation?”
We didn't have a reservation?
“It's Valentine’s Day, sir,” the hostess huffed. “You need a reservation. It’s a given.”
She wasn't mincing words. I couldn’t blame her. I felt like I was about to die of embarrassment.
“Just kidding,” Luke replied. “Can you check under Luke James?”
Marcus smiled. He must’ve been in on the joke. But neither Kate nor I were laughing.
“You're all checked in,” the hostess said curtly. “We’ll call you when your table’s ready.” She looked around. “It might be a few minutes.”
We stepped off to the side, out of the way of the hostess stand. But everyone was huddled inside for warmth, unwilling to wait on the porch outside. I knew Sadie’s Porch could get hopping, but I’d never before seen it like this. Then again, I’d never been out like this on Valentine’s Day.
A couple stood up from a bench as they were called, and Kate hurriedly snagged their spot. Marcus sat down next to her. Then Kate patted her lap, “You can sit here if you want.”
“Sweet of you to offer,” I said. “But with these shoes on, I don't think I could handle that.”
“I saw those,” Kate said. “It took you long enough to wear them.”
“Sorry,” I said, but I wasn’t sorry. This was probably my first and only time wearing these heels.
Luke sighed, stretched out his arms, and put one around my waist. “I can’t believe the hostess didn't like my joke,” he said.
“I can believe it,” I said.
“Me too,” Kate agreed.
As nice as it was to have Kate and Marcus here, it sort of killed the date night vibe. It felt almost like my coffee dates with Kate, except that I had some dude’s arm around me. Albeit a sweet and handsome dude.
The small talk had to end. If it didn't, it would be a waste of a night, and I’d rather have been tucked away at my mom’s house with her and my grandmother, kicking back pints of chunky monkey. Thankfully, Kate took the beat of silence to whispe
r something in Marcus’s ear.
He whispered something back, and they were laughing together.
“In case I forgot to tell you,” Luke whispered in my ear, “you look absolutely stunning tonight.”
“Thank you.” Accepting compliments wasn't my strong suit, but I had caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror after Kate had done her makeup wonders—and the dress, it spoke for itself. It was a good find.
“If I’m honest,” he said, “it really is stunning. But I like whatever you did the other day better.”
“The other day?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “When I came over, and we had pizza.”
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell him that I hadn’t worn any makeup that day. “You’re too sweet,” I told him. And there was a lot of truth in that.
“I’m serious,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, Kate does a great job. But you don’t need all that. It only distracts from your natural beauty. Tonight, I see her peering out.”
Butterflies began to flutter in my stomach. That was like something a guy would say to a girl in the movies. Not to me. Not in real life.
I reached my hand to brush away my ever-present stray hairs around my face, but Luke's hand caught mine, then he brushed them behind my ear for me. He planted a sweet kiss on my lips. I kissed him back.
“Hey now,” Marcus said, laughing.
“Luke James. Party of four.” The hostess interrupted the only public display of affection I’d ever wanted to last a second longer.
Luke intertwined our fingers, and we went single file behind the waitress through the crowded restaurant to our table.
Per usual, the ambiance was perfect. Dim lighting. Pink tablecloths. A candle and a bouquet of flowers on every table. Wine glasses ready for to be filled. The heater on, so us ladies in dresses weren’t freezing. The music rotated between classical music and soft country ballads—it was still Georgia, after all. Sadie’s always felt romantic, even when I ate here alone. But tonight, tonight felt extra special.
Luke pulled out my seat for me.
But as I lowered myself into it, I caught a glimpse of Kate’s face. She didn’t look as happy as she had before. Almost agitated, really. She motioned her head a couple of times to the right, my right, her left, asking me to take a gander. I glanced over as nonchalantly as was possible. There, a couple of tables over, was none other than Clara Clearwater. But where was her date—her boyfriend, Javier? The seat across from her was empty.
My own smile faltered. He had told me he would be here, but I was hoping they wouldn’t be smack dab beside us. This didn’t bode well. Not for anyone.
While I was in my own head, I’d missed something. It became obvious that Luke had just said something, but I had no clue what it was. “I’m sorry,” I said. “What was that?”
“I said,” Luke smiled, “I didn’t realize it wasn’t going to be their normal menu tonight.” He shook the single page menu in his hand. “What does prix fixe mean?”
I grinned. In my mind, I blessed his heart. Oh, Luke. You are not a fine dining guy.
“It’s a limited menu,” I said. “We each get four courses. Each couple has to share the appetizer and the dessert. But our only options are listed here. It all looks delicious.”
“Ah.” Luke nodded. “I get it.”
“Didn’t you mention the menu in your article?” Kate asked.
“I think so,” I lied. I knew I had. And now I knew that Luke hadn’t really read it. He’d skimmed it at best.
“Definitely the steak for me,” he said. “And I guess the cheesecake sounds good. If that’s okay with you. But you decide.”
“You don’t care about the appetizer. What about a salad?” I knew from previous experience that soup wasn’t his favorite. And soup or salad was the option for the second course.
Luke shrugged.
For the next couple of minutes, my eyes roved the menu, trying to glean an understanding of what each entree and its side entailed. Sometimes the side items or the glaze could throw a good dish off, but nothing on here looked out of place. The chef knew what he was doing. The fish special tonight was snapper en papillote with lump crab meat. It had my taste buds dancing already. Next, I wanted to help choose an appetizer that Luke would enjoy. I stood a chance at getting him to go for the tender fried crab claws, but I knew oysters were an instant no.
“You’re cute when you’re planning an assault on dinner,” Luke whispered.
“Thanks,” I said, blushing. I looked away from his gaze, and my eyes caught Clara Clearwater’s. What started out as a glance became something more. Her eyes shot daggers in my direction. If looks could kill, I thought. Well, then Javier would have another investigation on his hands. As it was, he still wasn’t back at the table with her.
“Okay,” I said, shaking off Clara’s stare. “I think I’ve got it planned out. All that’s left is dessert. Do we go chocolate—with the flourless cake? Or should we be a little more daring and go for the bananas foster crème brûlée?”
“Or go with door number three,” Luke said jokingly. “I think the cheesecake is the best option.”
It wasn’t. “I thought I got to pick.”
“You do. Sorry.”
“Crème brûlée it is.” I didn’t think cheesecake was a dessert worthy of a Valentine’s Day dinner.
The waiter came back with wine. Kate and Marcus ordered. Then all eyes fell in our direction. “The lady will order for us tonight.” Luke signaled in my direction.
I ordered the crap claws, a soup and a salad, both for me as Luke wouldn’t eat either, and my entree first. Then I started with his order. “He’ll have the filet,” I said.
“What temperature?” the waiter asked.
I was beginning to say “medium-rare” when Luke piped in. “Well done. Thanks!”
I cringed. The whole table saw it.
“What?” Luke said.
“That’s a travesty,” Marcus spoke for all of us.
I stifled a giggle with a sip of wine. But as I guided the glass back to the table, my chair was bumped by someone in a hurry. A few droplets landed harmlessly on the tablecloth. My dress escaped what could’ve been a disaster.
“Sorry about that,” a familiar deep voice boomed close to my ear.
“It’s no problem,” I said, before looking up and catching Javier’s dark eyes.
“Oh,” he said. “Allie. I didn’t see it was you there. How’s everybody doing tonight?”
“We’re doing fine,” Luke said stiffly.
“And you’re sure I didn’t spill wine on you?” Javier gave me a once over. His eyes may’ve lingered a tad longer than Luke liked.
“She’s fine,” Luke said for me.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I assured Javier.
“Great.” He smiled and strode over to his table.
We got back to small talk, dipping bread into an olive oil and seasoning mixture. But a loud kerfuffle of voices put a quick end to our chat. Everyone stopped to listen.
“If you date me, I come first.” Clara’s voice wasn’t exactly loud, but it wasn’t a whisper either. Somewhere between the two.
“I understand,” Javier said. “But my job—like yours—isn’t exactly nine-to-five. It’s important. I can’t plan when things pop up in an investigation.”
I wondered what investigation. Was it about Melvin’s murder?
“It seems like you’re sharing more information with that tramp over there than you do with me.” Clara pointed in our direction.
That tramp? Was she talking about me or Kate? Javier wasn’t sharing information with me. I was sharing with him. I’d texted him earlier about what Miss Jeanie had said—that Melvin kept his door locked. But that was it.
“With Allie?” Javier asked. I guessed we were going to get the answer. “She’s helping with the case. Have you been snooping on my phone?”
“What part of investigative reporter do you not understand?” Clara asked him. “Of course I’m g
oing to snoop on your phone.”
Javier bit his bottom lip and stared straight at the ceiling. He didn’t know what to say. So, Clara said it for him. “We’re done here,” she said. “Nobody embarrasses me like this.”
“From what I’ve seen, she did all the embarrassing,” Kate murmured.
Clara marched out of Sadie’s Porch with her stuck-up head held high.
Luke turned back to me and made a feeble attempt at a smile. I met his with a half-hearted smile of my own.
“Now,” he said, “where were we?”
We tried to get back into the rhythm we had established earlier in the night—that one minute when we kissed and he told me something I’d wanted to hear all my life. But we just weren’t vibing. Not anymore. Not after that ordeal.
Our fingers no longer sat woven together between us. My hands spent the evening twisting and turning awkwardly in my lap. Kate and Marcus rescued the conversation on multiple occasions.
By the time we made it to dessert, the awkwardness had hit a fever pitch.
Luke seemed even more uncomfortable than I was. He took a couple of bites of the crème brûlée. “This stuff is actually pretty good,” he said flatly.
“I’m glad you think so,” I said.
My stomach did somersaults. I looked over to Javier’s table. He was gone. I’d missed seeing him leave. This just didn’t feel right. I remembered what my mom had said. It’s not right to keep stringing Luke along. “Luke,” I said softly. “I don’t think this is working out.”
“The crème brûlée?”
“No.” I shook my head. “This. Us.”
“Oh…” It was like he had known it coming. He wasn’t angry. I couldn’t even tell if he was hurt. He just sighed softly. “Listen, Allie,” he started, as if beginning a speech, one he’d been rehearsing in his mind. “I’m a catch. I’m a nice guy. I have a good job. My finances are in order. Like I said, I’m a catch. If you can’t see that—”
“I can see that,” I interrupted. He was correct. On paper he checked every box. Just not the most important one. “It’s just. I dunno. It’s just I don’t feel the—”
“The zing.” This time he interrupted me. “The connection,” Luke said. “It’s not really there, is it? I get it. I do.”
Foodie Files Cozy Mysteries Box Set Page 28
