Page 92 of Smuggler's Cove
When they arrived at the restaurant, Viggo hurried to Madison’s side of the truck and helped her out. “Do you need those to read the menu?” he joked.
Madison grinned and removed them. “If I have a problem, you can help.”
Viggo could not wipe the smile from his face.
Jason greeted them when they entered the restaurant.
“Viggo, good to see you, my man.” Jason patted him on the back. “And, Madison, right?”
“Yes, good memory.” They shook hands.
“Nice to see you again. Did you get to the marina you were referring to?”
“Yes. My Uncle Kirby’s.”
“I heard someone was giving it a makeover.”
“Yes, that would be us. We decided to refurbish it and get another season out of it.”
“I can tell you, there are a lot of happy people in town. They first heard some highfalutin’ folks from up North were taking over, but those rumors got crushed quickly. Glad it’s you.”
“We are happy to be involved,” Madison said modestly.
“Booth or table?” Jason asked.
Viggo looked at Madison. “Which do you prefer?”
“Booth, thank you.” She felt it was more intimate, and better for conversation, especially when you are learning about someone for the first time.
Once they were settled and the waiter had taken their drink order, they began to chat. Madison asked him about wharfs, piers, docks, and jetties. He pulled out a small pad and pen from his inside pocket. “I thought you might ask, and decided this would be the best way to describe them.”
Madison was charmed by his conscious effort to entertain or enlighten her. To her, it didn’t matter. Both were acceptable.
Viggo began to draw what was supposed to be a body of water and then proceeded to draw and explain each term. Madison listened intently, but if you quizzed her later, she would have drawn a blank. She was absorbed. Enchanted.
They each ordered oysters, and the scallop special with polenta and mushrooms. Madison thought the cuisine was as good as many New York restaurants. The wine list was also impressive but not pretentious. For her, it was the best of both worlds.
They chatted about their childhoods, and Madison treaded lightly. As far as her family, she mentioned her parents were “separated” and she spent a lot of time at her grandparents. She wasn’t aware that Viggo knew about her father, and he was good enough to steer clear of it. He let her tell him what she wanted to tell him without pressing her for details.
Madison was comfortable with their conversation. She was straightforward with all of it except for her father’s sordid past. And it was the past. Done. Over. Everyone had moved on.
Neither Viggo nor Madison was in a hurry, and they decided to share a dessert: a warmed date cake with vanilla gelato. It wasn’t until they were halfway through dessert that Madison realized they were dipping their spoons into the same soft mound of sweetness and cream. Anyone would think it was an intimate gesture—unless you were with your girlfriends, and then anything goes. But with a man? On a first date? Was that suggestive or familiar? Madison decided it didn’t matter. It felt natural.
They were so engrossed in conversation that they didn’t notice they were the last patrons in the restaurant. Viggo finally realized the waitstaff had started to leave. “I think we are keeping these people from going home, or out for fun.”
Madison gasped slightly. “How embarrassing.”
“Not really. It shows you are enjoying the evening. At least I hope that’s the reason we have kept these fine folks past their shift.”
“Iamenjoying this evening.” Madison smiled affectionately.
Viggo gave Jason extra cash to spread to the patiently waiting staff, apologized profusely, and said goodnight.
As they walked back to the truck, Madison noticed how clear the sky was, with a sliver of the moon and the city skyline in the background. “Glorious night.”
“It is. Have you spent any nights here yet?”
“No. This is my first.”
