“Oh wow, I’ve always wanted to come here.” She beamed at him once she noticed they’d arrived at a seafood restaurant located on one of the quieter piers in Myrtle Beach. He smiled in reply before putting a hand on the small of her back and leading her toward the door.
“Mr. DeSanto,” the hostess gushed. “How wonderful to see you again, and you’ve brought company this evening. I have a quiet table in the corner that would be perfect.”
Both the hostess and Crystal gawked at Mark when he said loudly, “No! Er—I mean, how about that one right there?” he asked, pointing toward a small table in the middle of the room with absolutely no privacy.
Nonplussed, the hostess stammered for a few moments before finally saying, “Of course, Mr. DeSanto, if that’s your preference. Right this way, please.”
Mark could barely pull her seat away from the table thanks to a rather large man behind them, but he somehow managed. Why in the world would he have wanted to sit here? Maybe he was one of those people who liked to herd with others. She’d never pictured Mark as a pack animal, but then again she wouldn’t have imagined him panicking over having sex either.
“This is great, don’t you think?” he enthused, as he appeared not to notice that she was wedged up in her corner with barely an inch to spare.
“Sure,” she agreed, determined to make the best of it. So Mark had some strange quirks. That was to be expected, right? Lord knows Bill had issues. Maybe she attracted that type of man. Looking at how handsome he was across the table, she decided that even if she had a permanent indentation in her side after their cramped meal, it was a small price to pay for a night out with the man of her dreams. After all, he looked delectable in the suit he wore so well. Needing a diversion to keep from drooling, she craned her head to see the view from the wall of windows. “Wow, what a beautiful place. Do you come here often?” Probably a stupid question since the hostess knew him by name.
Mark took a sip from his water glass. “I have dinner meetings here occasionally. I’m glad you like it.” They continued to do well with their polite conversation after ordering their entrees when her first embarrassing moment of the evening occurred. The waiter was adding fresh ground pepper to her Caesar salad when she made the mistake of taking a deep breath and inadvertently inhaling what seemed like half of the shaker. Instantly, her eyes watered and her nose burned. Then the sneezing started. Considering where they sat in the restaurant, it was impossible for those nearby to miss her attack. Sadly, she’d never been a dainty sneezer and tonight was no exception. She grabbed her napkin, trying to cover her face while fumbling in her purse for a tissue. The waiter was apologizing profusely even though it hadn’t been his fault, while Mark jumped to his feet to offer his assistance.
“Kleenex,” she managed to choke out between rounds of both coughing and sneezing. He took her purse and upended it on the table until he found what he was looking for. Considering how close they sat to the other diners, she had little choice but to blow her nose right there for all to see and hear. Mark handed her a glass of water, and she managed to take a couple of small sips without spraying the table. Finally, she was able to regain control and wanted nothing more than to climb under their table and hide.
Mark was rubbing her shoulder, looking down at her in concern. “Are you all right now?”
She nodded, giving him a rueful smile. “Other than being mortified, I’m fine,” she added. “I can’t believe that happened.”
Mark returned to his side of the table and took his seat. “You certainly keep life interesting,” he acknowledged. Crystal was surprised to see that he still looked concerned, but there was also a flash of amusement in his eyes as he looked at her. Bill would have spent the rest of the meal berating her for causing a scene, but it appeared that Mark couldn’t care less what others thought. She’d yet to catch him looking at anyone other than her.
Within moments, he’d had her salad and water replaced with fresh ones and she’d put the items that had been thrown from her purse back inside. He was sweet, considerate, and thoughtful—in other words, the perfect guy. She was relaxed and enjoying her meal when their waiter—possibly trying to atone for the pepper incident—bent to pick up something from the floor. He had glanced at it, his eyes widening as he hastily handed it to Mark, and then left without a word. Mark looked at the paper curiously before dropping his fork. The sound of it hitting the glass plate echoed loudly, causing Crystal to jump in her seat. “Are you—is everything okay?” she asked in concern. He shifted in his seat, before swallowing a few times.
He tucked the paper into his jacket pocket and asked, “Are you almost finished, Angel?”
She looked down at her half-eaten meal before shrugging. “Sure, if you are.”
He paid the bill quickly, and they were outside once again. He put a hand on her back, helping her down the steps. Not a word was spoken between them until they were in his Porsche. Instead of leaving though, he pulled the paper from his pocket and carefully unfolded it. “Angel . . . is this yours?” he asked, sounding stressed.
She noticed that it was actually some kind of booklet instead of a single sheet of paper. She took it from his hands, and then gasped in horror. “Oh crap! I—Mia—I mean . . . you weren’t supposed to—God!”
Dropping his head onto the steering wheel, he said softly, “I was afraid of that.”
“Mark—I can explain. Mia brought it by earlier. One of her friends sells this stuff, and Mia is hosting a party for her. It was lying on the table when you got to my apartment earlier, and I stuck it inside my purse so you wouldn’t see it.” Putting her hand over her eyes, she whispered, “But now both you and the waiter think I’m some kind of pervert.”