Page 28

“Works for me. In that case, do I get to pick the restaurant?”

“Sure, as long as it isn’t Thai.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “Nina?”

“Yeah.”

They both laughed.

Her friend ate so much Thai food the woman practically bled lemongrass. Dorcas didn’t have anything against that kind of food. In fact, she really enjoyed panang curry, especially when it was extra spicy. But she didn’t want to eat it every frigging time they went out to lunch.

Nate swallowed another bite of his chicken fried steak. “Okay, so no Thai. How about German? I know a place in Sanford that makes the best sauerbraten in town.”

She paused, her fork a few inches from her mouth. “I don’t think I’ve ever had German food.”

“Oh, you’re missing out. This place is the best. It’s like stepping into the old country. Just say the word, and I’ll introduce you to the wonders of brats and spätzle.”

She stared at him for a long moment, amazed at his tenacity. “You’re relentless. No wonder you’re such a good salesperson.”

“It’s a gift. What do you say?”

“I’ll think about it.”

He grinned as though he’d been caught doing something but wasn’t sorry in the least. “That’s not a no.”

“That’s not a yes either.”

“I’ll take it for now. It’s closer to a yes than I was before.”

Chapter 8

IT WAS QUARTER AFTERfour when Nate drove past the Welcome to Mayford sign. It was a small town, mostly suburb, the product of Atlanta’s sprawl. He’d never been there when he lived in the state, and by the looks of it, he hadn’t missed much.

Mayford Self Storage was located behind a Hyundai dealership, a massive, three-story climate-controlled building, with a row of loading docks along the north side. From a security standpoint, the place was well designed. A six-foot brick and wrought-iron fence lined the perimeter and limited the points of entry, while security cameras were strategically placed to record every square inch of the property. Tall windows afforded a view of the inside customer service area, but a row of concrete posts along the sidewalk barred vehicles from plowing into the building.

There were only four cars in the lot, which didn’t seem unusual for this time on a Wednesday. Nate backed his truck into a spot near the loading dock, just in case they needed to bring out something large or unwieldy. As he cut the engine, he turned his head to Dorcas, who’d been quieter than usual ever since they left the restaurant.