Page 54 of Nate

“Oh, you think I won’t?” Markie removed her phone from her purse and entered a text.

Nate grinned, picked up his knife and fork, then cut into his steak.

Chapter Eight

Markie knew he was teasing her for some reason. No matter what he said, she knew he had to have seen her CDs of Grant Hunter when he was in her apartment. Some people still liked listening to them. Her stereo system had belonged to her aunt Lola years ago and Markie loved it. It sat in a wooden cabinet with a glass door. A turntable sat on the top, and inside was a receiver, double cassette player and a CD player that held thirty-two of them that would shuffle them and never play the same song twice. Two tall speakers, the same height as the cabinet, sat on each side of it and beside one of them was a shelf filled with vinyl albums and CDs. Most had belonged to her aunt.

Who owns The Hartland Restaurant?She sent to Sydney.

Ask Nate.

I did. He’s feeding me a line about it.

Sydney sent back a laughing emoji.Who did he say did?

Grant Hunter, the singer. I told him I didn’t believe him.

Then you owe him an apology. Grant Hunter does own it.

“Holy shit,” Markie exclaimed, making other patrons look at her, and Nate laugh. She looked around. “Sorry.”

“Why would I kid you about that?”

“Oh, come on, Nate. Why would I believe it? He was the best ever and you tell me he grew up in Clifton and owns this restaurant?”

“Which are both true.”

“Does he ever come in here?” She looked around like he would suddenly appear.

“Yes, I’ve seen him in here a few times, but his wife, Jessa runs it now. She’s here quite a bit.”

“Oh, yeah. I remember hearing he got married,” she said sadly, shaking her head.

“Did you think you had a shot?” Nate grinned.

Markie laughed. “Not even a little one.”

“Well, maybe he’ll be at Dewey’s tonight. Sometimes, he shows up and sings with the band.”

“Oh, I’d love to see that. I never made it to one of his concerts.”

“We’ll head there after we eat.”

“Alright.”

After finishing their meals, the server appeared, asking if they wanted dessert which they declined. Nate handed her his credit card and when she returned with the receipt, he added a tip, then slid from the booth, and helped Markie up.

He led her through the restaurant, out the doors, and to his truck. She slid onto the seat and watched as he walked around the front of the truck, then climbed in behind the wheel.

“Thank you for dinner. It was amazing,” Markie said.

“You’re welcome. I’ve never had a bad meal here or the diner.”

“Same for me at the diner. Connie is amazing.”

Nate nodded as he pulled into the parking lot of the popular cowboy bar. He shut the truck off, opened his door, and walked around the front then opened her door. He held her hand as he led her toward the bar.

Entering the bar, he stopped and looked around. “We might have to sit at the bar,” he said over the music.

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