A wave of vast disappointment passed over him. He had been looking forward to getting together with Charlotte all week. Several phone calls had finally led them to make a date that fit both their schedules. After all their coordinating it would be such a shame if she blew him off. Suddenly, his pride kicked in and he found himself getting slightly annoyed. Had he misread Charlotte? She didn’t seem like the type of woman to do such a thing.
He reached for his cell phone inside his jacket, fully prepared to give Charlotte a call.
“Marc!” At the sound of his name being called, Marc whirled around. Charlotte was briskly walking toward him with a distressed look on her face. Relief washed over him. She was here! When she reached his side she immediately began offering apologies. “I’m so sorry to be late. I must have hit every red light in Savannah. And then I couldn’t find a parking spot. The lot was full, no doubt due to this performance tonight. I should have planned my time better.”
“No worries. You’re here. That’s the most important thing,” Marc said, taking Charlotte by the arm and leading her toward the ticket collector. He pulled two tickets from the inside of his coat, then ushered Charlotte in front of him.
“I just love coming here,” Charlotte gushed. “Everything is so grand.”
She looked up at the fancy chandelier and pointed. “When I was a kid my family used to take us here to see Swan Lake every year. And without fail I would go home and ask for a chandelier for my birthday.”
Marc laughed and shook his head. “I have to be honest. I never noticed the chandelier, but I did think this red velvet carpeting was incredible.”
The usher pointed them toward their orchestra seats. Marc looked around at their plush surroundings. He loved the majesty and opulence of going to the opera. Tonight they were seeing La Boheme, an opera in four acts. Set in Paris, it told the tragic love story of Mimi and Rodolfo. This production starred two fabulous opera stars—Chiarra Lovell and Franco Burletto.
Once the production started, the room fell into a hush. The audience was mesmerized by the brilliant scenes unfolding before their eyes. Several times Marc saw Charlotte wipe a tear from her face. La Boheme was his favorite opera. No matter how many times he saw it, the opera blew him away due to the storyline and the music. This time was no exception.
At intermission, Marc led Charlotte to the concession area. He ordered two glasses of red wine for them and a snack of pretzels and chocolate for them to munch on.
“So, what do you think? Are you enjoying it?” Marc asked, taking a sip of his wine.
Charlotte sighed. “It’s beautiful. And haunting. And I’m not sure if my makeup is smeared or not, but I shed a few tears. You probably heard me sniffling.”
“Your makeup looks beautiful. And so do you, Charlotte. That dress is amazing.” Charlotte was wearing a red dress that came down to her knees. It was cinched in at the waist with a little black belt. She was wearing black high-heeled shoes. They showed off her shapely legs. In homage to the opera, she was wearing black gloves that came up to her elbows. He didn’t know a lot about fashion, but he knew she looked like one of the models who made their living on a runway.
“Thanks. I like dressing up to go out, although I never really know if I’m a hit or a miss. For all I know people could be citing me as a fashion don’t.” Although Charlotte’s tone was joking, Marc had the feeling she was serious. A few times now she had made comments about herself that indicated low self-esteem. Not for the first time Marc wondered where it came from. What was it all about? Charlotte was lovely in every way. Had someone in her life caused her to believe otherwise?
“You’re lovely. You need to start believing that. And when someone compliments you on looking wonderful, just say thank you.” Marc reached for her hand and twined it through his own. He felt Charlotte squeezing his hand. She didn’t say a word, but she nodded her head. The lights began to flicker on and off, signaling the end of intermission. He escorted her back to their seats, never letting go of her hand along the way. Charlotte’s hand felt so right joined with his own.
As the lights went out and act three began, Marc cast a glance over at Charlotte. In profile she was gorgeous. Her nose had a regal shape and the way she held her head reminded him of marble statues in museums. She had a look of wonder etched on her face. He couldn’t help but grin. La Boheme tugged at his heart strings each and every time, and from the looks of it, Charlotte had been deeply transported into the world of the eighteen hundreds in Paris, France.
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.”
The waiter returned with their appetizers. They immediately dug in, settling in to a nice conversation that flowed effortlessly. They talked about favorite vacation spots, climate change, local politics and the upcoming exhibit at the Savannah museum of art. More and more, Marc found himself seeing remarkable aspects about Charlotte. She was smart and could easily hold her own in a conversation. And she didn’t monopolize the chatter either. Her smile worked its way into the inner recesses of his heart and lifted a huge weight off his shoulders.
By the time they had finished their entrées, Marc knew this evening was one of the best he’d experienced in recent memory. And he needed joy in his life. His father’s illness was taking a toll on him. He hadn’t been sleeping well and he’d lost five pounds without even trying. And he wasn’t even his main caregiver, although Marc pitched in several hours a day at the house to give his mother a break.
As he walked Charlotte outside to her car, he found himself dragging his feet. He didn’t want this evening to end.
“Care to take a walk by the river?” he asked, praying she would feel so inclined. He wanted to stretch this evening out until the stars were stamped from the ink black sky.
“I’d like that,” Charlotte said with a smile. “I used to walk down here with my father every time he took me to Huey’s. It was our special bonding time. He would take me over there to the candy store and I’d leave with a sack of my favorites.” She giggled. “Mama would have a fit when I got home because she thought he spoiled me.”
Marc waved a hand, dismissing her mother’s viewpoint. “All fathers should spoil their little girls. And by spoiling I mean make ‘em feel special. It sounds like your daddy did that. One on one attention. Making the most of your time together. I hope to do that for my daughter someday.”
“I think you’ll make a great father,” Charlotte said, studying Marc’s face. “You’re patient and kind and you’re a really good listener. That tells me you must have had a really great father.”
Marc felt emotion rising up in him at the mention of his father. These days his feelings were resting right on the surface. Dealing with a terminally ill family member was the most difficult journey he’d ever been on aside from losing Gretchen. Both then and now it made him reconsider everything about his life. Was he truly moving toward leading a happy existence? Was he making the most of every day?
Marc looked over at Charlotte. “Thanks for saying that about my dad. It’s true. He was and is an exceptional man. And an even better father. I can’t think of a single time he ever let me down, although I know I let him down numerous times.”
“That’s what kids do. We let our parents down and they love us anyway. It’s all part of the beauty of being a parent.”
“I’m not good at pretending or playing games,” Marc blurted out the words, surprising even himself with his bluntness.
Charlotte frowned at him. “Is there something on your mind, Marc?”
He moved closer to her, eating up the small space between them. “Yes,” he said with a nod. “I’ve been thinking all night about kissing you. And I know kissing on a first date can be awkward, but honestly Charlotte, this doesn’t feel like a first date. It seems as if we’ve had a series of dates before tonight.”
“Sometimes you just have to go for it,” Charlotte said with a grin. “You didn’t have to announce it in advance.”
Marc slapped his hand against his forehead. “Ugh. I’m an idiot. Let’s just call it a night.” He made a move to turn back away from the Riverwalk.
Charlotte tugged at his sleeve and pulled him back. “Not until you give me a goodnight kiss. You can’t just announce something like that and then just walk away.”
Marc grinned down at her. Her words were like music to his ears.
“Don’t mind if I do,” he murmured, looking deeply into her azure blue eyes. He took Charlotte’s face between his palms and leaned down and kissed her. Her lips were warm and inviting. A floral scent rose to his nostrils. Her lips tasted sweet. Marc felt Charlotte grab hold of his collar for leverage. Charlotte kissed him back with a tenderness that made his heart threaten to crack wide open. Although he wanted the kiss to go on and on, common sense dictated otherwise. It was time to call it a night.
As the kiss ended, Marc reached for her hand and entwined it with his own. They walked back toward their cars, enjoying the balmy air and the comfortable vibe that flowed between them.
“No need to follow me home. I’ll be fine,” Charlotte said as he pulled open her door for her.
“I want to. Just in case,” he said in a firm voice. “My mama raised me right, Charlotte. She’d have a conniption if she knew I hadn’t made sure you were safe and sound.” He reached out and caressed her cheek. “Plus, I wouldn’t be able to sleep without knowing you’d made it home in one piece.”
Charlotte, with a pleased expression on her face, reached up and placed a kiss on his lips before slipping into the driver’s seat. Marc closed the door for her, then moved toward his own car. As he once again followed behind Charlotte, a sense of urgency enveloped him. He wanted Charlotte to meet his father. On a practical level he knew it was much too soon for such a meeting, but knowing his father’s days were limited added another layer to the situation.
He knew—somewhere deep down—that he would regret it for the rest of his life if Charlotte didn’t meet his father. It meant asking Charlotte over for dinner with his family and breaking the news to them that he was dating a member of the Duvall family. Marc sucked in a deep breath. He could do this. It was his romantic life after all. He was tired of putting himself last. Marc Cabron was going to start reaching for the brass ring.
* * *
A week had flown by since Charlotte’s first official date with Marc. As she sat in her office at Savannah House, she flashed back to that wonderful evening she’d spent with Marc at the theater and Huey’s café. It had been a little slice of heaven. And it hadn’t even felt like a first date. Marc had felt the same way. It was uncanny. Once they had cut through all the initial tension regarding the past, they’d soon discovered an amazing connection.
And their first kiss had been electric! Marc had literally swept her off her feet with his tenderness and charm. They’d been out on dates three times since then—a movie date, dinner at his place and a night out at a jazz club in downtown Savannah. Charlotte had to say every kiss since the first time had been just as powerful. She’d never felt like this before!
Morgan poked
her head into her office. “Care for a mushroom cap?” she asked, holding out a silver platter.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Charlotte said, leaning across her table to take one. She popped it into her mouth and nearly groaned as the wonderful flavor exploded in her mouth.
“What do you think?” Morgan asked, watching Charlotte like a hawk to gauge her thoughts.
“I think I’d like another one,” Charlotte said, emitting a satisfied sound as Morgan handed her another mushroom cap.
“Mmm. It’s so yummy. But why are you making these? Mushroom caps aren’t exactly lunch fare.”
“I’m doing a dry run for the wedding. I’m making a few appetizers for the reception,” Morgan explained.
“I can’t believe it’s coming up so fast,” Charlotte exclaimed. One of these nights she needed to take Case out to dinner as a pre-wedding treat. It would give her a chance to talk to him alone before his big day. Charlotte felt a twinge of wistfulness. She prayed their relationship would always be close. She knew marriage changed things and that her brother would have new priorities and responsibilities.
“It’s so exciting,” Morgan said with a squeal. “They’re so great together. It’s really inspiring to see a couple who ended their engagement rebuild their relationship and make the decision to recommit themselves to one another.”
“God’s been with them this entire journey,” Charlotte said. “They’ve done a lot of hard work to get to this place in time. I’m really proud of them.” Charlotte fought against a rising tide of emotion. There was no need to cry over this, she reminded herself. It was so incredibly joyful.
“By the way, we’re having a meeting for a few minutes after the lunch crowd is served. Marc sent over his report and we’re going to briefly talk about where to go from here.”
Charlotte sat up straight in her chair. “Did Marc stop by this morning?”
Suddenly, all her nerve endings were crackling. She’d be so sad if she’d missed seeing Marc. Uh oh. Her thoughts were betraying her. She had it bad.
Falling in Love (Secrets of Savannah Book 5) Page 11
