“We do,” Gareth puts in, letting my hand go to wrap his arm around my waist. “Under Black.”
Lina looks at the two women still standing next to her listening to our exchange, and the one in the middle types quickly on the tablet then looks up at us with wide eyes. I don’t know what to make of her expression, or have time to ask about it, before Lina is grabbing long sheets of paper out of a holder at the side of the podium. “Your table is ready.” She starts to walk away then looks at us over her shoulder. “Sorry.” She smiles. “Please, come with me.”
We follow her through the packed restaurant, and I notice that every single table is taken up with people either enjoying their food or chatting with smiles on their faces as they wait for their meals to arrive. I feel Gareth close on my heels as we walk through a doorway behind Leah and up a set of stairs. When I crest the top of the stairs and see the view before me, my breath catches. Through the glass-enclosed space, there is nothing to see at this vantage point but twinkling stars and city lights. And with only four tables within the space and only one of them taken up with an older couple, it feels private.
“This is beautiful,” I murmur as Lina stops at a table near the edge of the building, and Gareth pulls out my chair for me to sit.
“Mack just finished this two days ago. You two and that couple over there, who are his parents, are the first to eat up here.” She looks at Gareth. “You must be good friends with Mack.”
“You could say that,” he responds casually, and she eyes him for a moment then looks between the two of us.
“Your waiter Simon will be with you shortly to go over the menu with you, but I have to tell you my favorite thing here to eat is the ginger, garlic, and honey baby back ribs, the house mac and cheese, with a side of greens.”
My mouth waters. “That sounds good,” I say, because everything she mentions does. Still, I know I will never, not ever, order ribs to eat on a first date.
“Trust me, everything on the menu is delicious,” she replies, looking pleased, before she bows slightly. “I hope you two have a great dinner.”
“Thanks,” I tell her, and she smiles at me. I watch her walk away then look at Gareth, who touches his fingers to mine on top of the table.
“You getting the ribs?” he asks with a small twitch of his lips.
I shake my head then answer, “No. I mean, they sound good, but I don’t trust myself to eat them without making a mess of myself.”
“You want them though, don’t you?”
“Was I drooling when she was talking about them?” I ask.
“A little.” He laughs. “I’ll order them and you can have one of mine.”
“Just one?” I frown.
“Don’t be greedy.”
“Just one of anything is never enough,” I inform him straight-faced.
He laughs again and I enjoy the deep sound. “Okay, two, but only if you promise to share whatever you order.”
“I think you should know now that I’m greedy when it comes to my food.” I pick up my napkin and place it over my lap.
“Does that mean you won’t share with me?”
“I grew up with sisters who had no problem taking the last piece of pizza or the last scoop of ice cream. I learned early on to get as much food as possible before it was all gone. If you give me three of your ribs and a scoop of your mac and cheese, I’ll give you the scraps off my plate, but I can’t promise there will be much left.”
He shakes his head. “I think I need to see what you order before I take that offer,” he responds, as a thin older man with no hair on his head approaches our table.
“Good evening. My name is Simon, and I will be your server this evening.” The older gentleman inclines his head before he quickly rattles off the wine list and tells us about the house specials for the evening. I order a glass of wine, and Gareth orders a beer. We both agree on an order of fried green tomatoes as an appetizer, which means my stomach is growling in anticipation when Simon walks away.
“Do you know what you’re going to order?” Gareth asks.
I don’t even look at the menu. “The house special of fried hot honeyed chicken, mashed potatoes, and bacon green beans.”
“Have you had hot chicken before?” he asks, looking concerned.
“Have you ever been to Hattie B’s?” I answer his question with a question. Hattie B’s is famous for their hot chicken, and it’s one of my favorite chicken spots in Nashville.