“We didn’t order that,” Trae said, clearly annoyed at the interruption.
“Compliments of your fans,” the server said, nodding in the direction of the table full of women, who were all watching gleefully, camera phones pointed.
Trae stood and did a half bow. “Thanks, ladies!” he called, amid a burst of camera flashes.
He took his seat and forked up a chunk of the confection. He aimed the brownie, dripping with melting ice cream and fudge sauce, directly at Hattie’s lips.
“Open wide,” he commanded.
“But, I don’t want…” she protested, and then did as she was told.
More camera flashes.
Flustered, Hattie dabbed at her mouth with her napkin.
“You missed a spot,” Trae said. He touched his fingertip to her bottom lip and left it there for just a second longer than was absolutely necessary.
He looked up at their server, who was hovering nearby, enjoying the spectacle. “We’ll take the check now.”
“The ladies already took care of it,” the server said.
“If I’d known they were going to do that, I would have ordered a bottle of wine,” Trae told him. He waved at the women, took a tiny bite of the dessert, then laid aside his napkin.
“Let’s get out of here.”
28
Smoke Gets in Your Eyes
“How about a nightcap?” Trae asked, as she slid into the front seat of his rented Lexus.
“It’s after nine,” Hattie pointed out. “Anyway, as far as I know the only place to get a drink at this time of night on Tybee is one of those tourist bars where they serve glow-in-the-dark frozen drinks.”
“We could ride into Savannah,” he said. “My hotel has a rooftop bar with a great view of the river. And plenty of normal-colored cocktails.”
“I don’t think so,” Hattie said. “It’s thirty minutes to downtown from here, then I’d still have to drive back to Thunderbolt, and I’ve got a seven o’clock call time tomorrow.”
“You could take a Lyft. Or maybe we could just have a quiet drink at your place? Thunderbolt? Every time I pass through it on the way out here I wonder why it’s named that.”
“Oh no,” Hattie said, instinctively drawing away. Her place? A kiss was one thing; inviting him back to her home, and possibly her bed, if she was reading him right, was taking things entirely too fast.
Trae smelled delicious, like a dangerous combination of sandalwood and leather and bergamot, and it would be so easy to allow herself to be seduced by him. But not tonight.
“Just take me back to Chatham Avenue so I can pick up my truck, please. I really do have to get home. Ribsy’s been cooped up in the house all day. I promised him a walk when I get home. And like I said, it’s an early day for me tomorrow.”
“My call time’s not until nine,” Trae said, backing the car out of the lot, then turning onto Butler Avenue.
“That’s because you’re a man. All you have to do to get camera ready is comb your hair and make sure your fly is zipped. I, on the other hand, have to submit to Lisa’s flatiron and contouring brushes. And let’s not even talk about wardrobe.”
“We both know that’s not accurate,” he said grumpily. “How about a raincheck?”
“We’ll see,” Hattie said.
He glanced over at her. “Is that southern-lady speak for ‘we should just be friends’？”
She yawned widely. “No, it’s Hattie saying I’ve been on my feet for fourteen hours today, and right now, I just want to go home, shower, and pass out.”
They rode the next few blocks in silence. Trae swung the Lexus onto Chatham Avenue and slowed as he approached the driveway.
They were still rolling down the driveway toward the house when Hattie pointed her nose in the air and began sniffing. “Do you smell that? Something burning?”
“Maybe someone’s grilling?”
She rolled the window down. “Definitely not.”
“Was any of the crew burning trash today?” Trae asked.
“No. Everyone’s gone home for the night.” She pointed to a plume of white smoke spiraling from the rear of the house. “Stop right here.” She was out of the car and running, even before Trae had put the Lexus in park. “Call nine-one-one,” she yelled over her shoulder.
* * *
Orange flames shot out of the top of the dumpster, and now the white smoke had turned black and oily. Panicked, she ran to the edge of the porch to look for the hose the workers usually used to clean up with, but the intense heat drove her back.