Page 26 of Best Kept Vows (Savannah’s Best #6)

Ophelia

I liked to cook, but it was disheartening to do it just for myself—what I often ended up doing on the nights Sebastian worked late and I ate alone.

If I had to dine solo, I figured someone else might as well do the cooking. A Yelp search pointed me to Collins Quarter at Forsyth, just down the street, known for its Australian-inspired cuisine with a Southern twist.

When I stepped into the restaurant, I was instantly wrapped in the warm glow of low-hanging Edison bulbs and the soft flicker of candlelight dancing across polished wooden tables. Laughter and friendly voices surrounded me, a warm energy that urged me toward the hostess stand.

I got a seat at the bar, which made me not feel quite so lonely.

It felt almost brazen to eat alone.

Did people do that in restaurants? I looked around and found that everyone was with someone—I was the only solo diner. It made me self-conscious, and I wondered if maybe I should just get a glass of wine and?—

“Lia?”

I looked up and smiled. “Lev.”

His relaxed posture, and easy, confident stride brought both comfort and a slight disquiet. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Well…you know…food.” Sheesh! I sounded like some twenty-something ingenue instead of the grown-ass woman I was.

“Mind if I join you?” There was amusement in his tone and an undercurrent of allure that contrasted sharply with the hesitancy fluttering inside me.

“Not at all.” I knew I sounded far too upbeat for something as ordinary as having someone join me for dinner.

Beneath my casual response, a silent question lingered—would this be a date?

Or are we just acquaintances eating together?

What are the rules?

“I come here a lot.” Lev settled on a stool next to mine.

“Hey, Lev, how’s it hangin’, man?” The bartender came by, and he and Lev did some complex handshake thing.

“All good, Walt.”

“Your usual?” Walt, the bartender, asked, and Lev nodded.

His usual drink was an IPA on tap. I had ordered a glass of Pinot Grigio, which seemed harmless.

“The food is great, and the place is perfect if you’re eating alone. You know, for dinner and dash? ”

I smiled then. “Is that what you’re doing, dinner and dashing?”

He laughed, and damn it, I found him incredibly attractive. Which was wildly inconvenient, considering I was a married woman with a handsome, age-appropriate husband—unlike Lev, who was a solid decade younger and entirely the wrong kind of temptation.

I’d never been able to see the appeal of being a cougar but now, oh, yeah , I could so see it.

“Since I have such wonderful company, I think I’ll dinner and linger .” He raised his glass, and I touched mine to his.

“To not eating alone.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“To not eating alone,” I chimed, and felt the ache of all the lonely dinners these past years.

“I hope I’m not the one making you look like you sucked on a sour lemon,” Lev interrupted my thoughts.

I let out a low chuckle. “Not at all. I was just thinking about eating alone.”

“I love it, especially in restaurants. I can focus on my food and clear my head. But I am partial to the company of beautiful women.”

I shot him a look of mock exasperation.

“Audrey, you gotta say thank you when a man compliments you.”

I felt the burn on my cheeks. “Thank you.”

Lev insisted I order the Collins Burger, the restaurant’s acclaimed masterpiece.

“It’s nothing short of art,” Lev told me .

“Art?”

“The burger arrives steaming,” he said dramatically. “It’s visually… arresting ! You have a juicy patty made from grass-fed beef from a local Georgia farm, its grill marks hinting at perfection.”

Laughter bubbled out of me. “Perfect grill marks?”

Lev looked at me with an intensity that was disconcerting. “And she looks fuckin’ stunning when she laughs.”

I flushed again .

“Oh, please. I’m way older than you, you know that, right?”

“I’m thirty-four, darlin’; you can’t be more than thirty-five or thirty-six, so don’t make it such a big deal.”

There isn’t a woman alive who isn’t flattered when a man—any man, and not only ones who looked like Lev—tells her she looks younger than she is.

“I’m forty-four. I have a son who is twenty-two and a daughter who’s eighteen.”

“Doesn’t change how you look, darlin’, or how I feel about how you look.”

He didn’t seem insincere or cheesy when he said that—just matter-of-fact. I’d have to be dead to not be attracted to a man like Lev, who was hitting on me. I was married, yes. But I was human.

“I’m also married,” I breathed.

Lev grinned mischievously. “I’m not.”

I let out a breathy laugh, but I was saved from further flirting when the server arrived with our burgers, which did, indeed, look like works of art .

It was adorned with crisply fried bacon strips arranged like edible sculptures, a shiny, tangy tomato jam spread generously over the top, and a cascade of freshly torn arugula leaves that promised a peppery crunch.

The aroma of truffle fries drizzled with rich, aromatic oil and sprinkled with hints of rosemary made my stomach churn with anticipation and my mouth water with delight.

“I told you,” Lev said smugly.

“The proof, as they say, is in the pudding.”

“Well, Audrey, take a bite and tell me if you don’t see stars.”

I didn’t see stars, but it was an incredible burger—one of the best I’d ever had. I’d just finished my food and refused to eat another fry, no matter how much Lev coaxed me, when a man stopped by our table.

“Your sister know you’re flirting with her intern?” the man asked.

I raised both eyebrows.

“Lia, this is Dom Calder. Dom, this is Lia, my neighbor .”

Dom grinned at me and perched his ass on a stool on my other side. I was now sitting between two deliciously attractive men. I was sure I was in an episode of Desperate Housewives titled Cougarland .

Dom was of mixed race; I suspected he had African American and Native American heritage. Unlike Lev, who was lean, Dom was muscular—but they both looked like men who worked out.

“How do you know I’m Luna’s intern?” I asked.

“He’s stalking my sister, that’s how,” Lev stated dryly .

“Hey, Walt, I’ll have what she’s havin’.” Dom winked at me. Now, I had two good-looking men flirting with me. A girl could get used to this.

And then it clicked. “Oh, you’re…the Dom I’ve heard about.”

“What did you hear?” Dom leaned closer, his light gray eyes full of humor.

I pursed my lips, struggling not to smirk. “I actually can’t remember.”

“You break my heart.” He put a hand on his chest. “I was at Savannah Lace yesterday. I had a meeting with Diego Perez. He’s with Larue Homes, and they work out of your office space.”

I had been introduced to Diego Perez and Nova’s husband, Anson Larue. I had also been told that something was going on between Diego and Nina. I hadn’t seen a hint of it, but then I’d never seen them together.

“I bumped into Nova, and she told me about you,” Dom explained.

I was going to work with Nova in a month when my three months with Luna were up.

I was having so much fun that it was ridiculous.

If this was what working was like, I wish I’d done it years ago.

Sure, it was hard and sometimes tedious, but all in all, the sense of satisfaction it gave me outweighed all of that.

The evening went from mildly to vastly entertaining. We talked about architecture, design, and Savannah’s vibrant culture. We talked about movies and books, and both men flirted outrageously with me.

It wasn’t until later, when I was in bed, that I wondered if this was somehow a betrayal of my marriage vows.

Lia, you’re allowed to have a good time with people who are not Sebastian.

Even if they looked like Lev and Dom?

Talking to someone is not a crime. And so what if you think they’re hot? They. Are. Hot.

I turned it around and wondered how I’d feel if Sebastian was sitting with women ten years younger than him, enjoying their company as they flirted with him.

Oh, but that’s so icky and sleazy.

I lay awake for a long time and wondered if this was the kind of thing I should bring up during couple’s therapy.