Page 49 of 7 Days and 7 Nights

She could practically hear his shrug. “Because you’re older now, more mature? Possibly more... desperate?”

He paused and she could picture his dimple cutting a groove into his cheek. “And you’ve never had my duck à la Ransom. It drives women wild.”

“You’re driving me wild now, Matt. With annoyance.

But I’m not afraid to have dinner with you. And I’m notthatold.”

“Good. It’s a date, then. Drinks and dinner at eight. I assume you don’t need directions.

Chapter Sixteen

Dawg Rollins pushed open the door of the Magnolia Diner and stepped inside. At 5:00 PM, the place bulged with early birds wolfing down enough fried food to clog the arteries of every man, woman, and child in Georgia. Standing in the entrance, he breathed in the familiar smells of down-home cooking and scanned the restaurant for JoBeth.

“Hey, Dawg.” Noreen Pitts, who’d been waitressing longer than he’d been alive, tucked a pencil behind her ear and a stray gray curl back into its bun. “Counter or booth?”

“Put me back in JoBeth’s section, Noreen.”

“I don’t know, Dawg. Ina made chocolate meringue pie for dessert tonight. That’s almost impossible to get out of your clothes.”

“I’m willing to risk it. Just give me that booth in the corner there, okay?”

He moved forward with determination, the small gray-haired woman following along in his wake until they reached the booth he’d requested. When she didn’t move, he lifted a menu out of her hands, sat down on the seat, and slid his rear end across the red vinyl bench.

“Thanks, Noreen. I appreciate it.”

“I hope you feel that way when JoBeth gets finished with you.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what’s gotten into that girl, but she sure has taken to speaking her mind.”

“Hasn’t she though?”

JoBeth had never been what you’d call a shrinking violet, but she’d never been the kind of woman to throw a pie in a man’s face, either. Even when her parents’ illnesses and demands had dragged down on her, she’d been upbeat, always trying to look on the bright side of things.

He took a minute to read over the menu, though he’d eaten at the Magnolia a thousand times. When he looked up, JoBeth stood in front of his table with her order pad out and her professional smile in place. Her normally warm gray eyes looked a bit on the frosty side.

“What can I get for you?”

“All I really want is some conversation, JoBeth.”

“You can’t tie up a table talking.” She nodded over her shoulder toward the entrance, where several customers milled around. "People are lined up waiting to get seated.”

“I just wanted to tell you about the thing with Emmylou. You see I was only trying to—”

“It’s no concern of mine who you spend your time with or why. Order or give up the table, Dawg.”

“All right, then. I’ll start with a glass of sweet tea.”

“And?” Her pencil still poised above her pad, JoBeth waited expectantly.

“You told me I had to order, so I ordered. Is there a minimum?” He sent her an innocent look.

She tucked the pencil back behind her ear and reached for his menu, but he refused to give it up.

“I think I’ll hold on to this. I’m going to be here a while and I may want to order something else.”

“Fine.” She turned and strode the few steps to the nearest station, grabbed up a pitcher, and returned to pour him the tea.

Dawg watched her pour the amber-colored liquid. “You know, now that I think of it, maybe I will have a little something to eat. What do you have on special today?”

JoBeth’s lips pressed together in an impossibly thin line, and Dawg wondered how she’d squeeze the words out from between them. "We have fried chicken, country fried steak, and liver and onions. They all come with mashed potatoes and gravy plus your choice of two vegetables.”

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