Though it was a warm enough evening, AJ opted to have Samara’s table be inside. It was tucked away in a private corner that provided intimacy and a lovely view of the street. Part of him wondered if he was defeating the purpose by allowing her and her . . . guest such a setting, but he only wanted the best for Samara; eventually she would realize the best was he as well.
The place was fairly empty, for the dinner rush wouldn’t get started until seven, but many regulars were here already, for they knew the onslaught time well. He was courteous to all he greeted, but his eyes never strayed far from the restaurant’s entrance. It was getting perilously close to six . . .
When Samara and her guest arrived two minutes after the top of the hour, his knees almost buckled with relief. The guest was a woman. She was gorgeous, also black, and they looked so similar it was obvious they were related. This other woman’s hair was relaxed, but cut short in a sassy style. She had the curves her sister possessed, as evidenced by the strapless, A-line black and white dress she wore, though she was slightly taller and not quite as round. Her demeanor screamed, “Don’t look at me unless . . .” He didn’t exactly know what the “unless” would be, but he would bet it would take a strong, confident man to discover it.
But it was the first woman who captured his attention.
She had changed into wide-leg black slacks and a white peasant top showing off the thin, dark strap of a tank top. Due to the lighting and how far away they were, he couldn’t tell the color. She had one of his orchids behind her ear, too, and he couldn’t help but grin. All he wanted to do was hold her face in his hands and stare into her maple-syrup eyes, but he was on the job . . . and he had no idea if the other woman knew about him.
She would soon find out.. . .