Spark by Helen Hardt

Author:Helen Hardt [HARDT, HELEN]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Waterhouse Press

Chapter Twenty-Six

Callie

“Wonderful to see you, Mr. Steel,” the maître d’ at Aspen Grove says. “Your table is ready.”

Donny and I follow him to a private table in the back of the darkened restaurant. Why do restaurants think people like to eat in the dark, anyway? I don’t get it.

The tuxedoed maître d’ holds a chair out for me and then unfolds and places my napkin on my lap. Cushy.

“Your server will be with you in a moment, and the sommelier will be around with the wine list.”

“We won’t be having wine,” Donny says. “Just cocktails.”

“As you wish.” He bows and departs.

“I might go for a glass of wine,” I say.

“Oh? Sorry. I didn’t mean to be presumptuous. You said—”

“I’m kidding.” I smile. “I wish I liked wine more, since it’s my family’s chosen business and all.”

“I’ve told you before. Dad and Dale think I’m nuts that I don’t enjoy wine and bourbon much.”

Our server comes by, leaving a cocktail menu.

I glance over it. “Hmm. Pomegranate margarita. That sounds up your alley.”

Donny grins. God, he’s good-looking.

“It does, at that. I think I’ll try one. What looks good to you?”

“It’s a tough call. Either the pomegranate margarita or the pineapple martini.”

“Get that one,” he says. “We can taste each other’s.”

“Good enough.” I close the menu.

The server returns and takes our drink orders, leaving dinner menus. I open mine. The prices are exorbitant. I stop myself from gasping.

“Do you like calamari?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Let’s get some. Anything else?”

The calamari is twenty-five dollars. Must be squid from a royal family or something. “No. That’s plenty. I don’t like to fill up on bread and appetizers. It ruins dinner.”

Donny laughs. “You don’t know the Steels. We can eat!”

I can eat as well, but at these prices… Just no.

The server returns, and Donny orders the calamari.

“Are you ready to order your dinner as well, sir?”

“I’m sorry. We haven’t really looked. Unless you’re ready, Callie?”

“Actually I am,” I say. “I’ll have the Rocky Mountain Trout with drawn butter.”

“Any sides?”

“Roasted asparagus, I think.”

“Any soup or salad?”

And add another twenty bucks to the bill? “No, thank you.”

“And you, sir?”

“Ten-ounce filet, rare, with sautéed mushrooms. Loaded mashed potatoes and roasted broccoli, please. House salad with Italian vinaigrette.”

“That was easy,” I remark, once the server leaves.

“Can’t beat the beef here.”

Steel beef is the best. We raise a little bit of beef on our ranch, but it’s far from our main operation. We’re mostly a winery.

Were a winery, anyway.

“Tell me,” Donny says. “What were you doing at Murphy’s last night?”

How does he know I was there? And why didn’t he bring this up on our two-hour drive if it’s bugging him? “Having a drink with Maddie. It was her idea.”

“I see.”

“How did you even know I was there?”

“Dale and I saw you walking with Brendan.”

“Oh.” My cheeks warm. “Yeah, he walked me to my car.”

“Nice of him.”

Donny’s tone indicates something other than nice, though.

“Yeah, it was. You can’t be too careful. As a woman, I mean. Walking after dark.”

As a rule, I believe my words.

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