Page 24 of Denying Davis
But I was determined to keep it from affecting my relationship with Samantha. I could make a change there, and I would.
“I figure we can think of a better idea than The Hamburger Stand,” I told her, relieved she had once again agreed to spend time with me. Maybe this trip to Palm Beach wouldn’t end with questions and regrets after all.
“Good, because that’s the kind of place you go if you want a milkshake, and I can’t imagine having one of those right now.”
“What about Ranchero Tacos on Clematis?” The faint rumbling in my stomach reminded me that, while the party had plenty of appetizers, I still hadn’t eaten much since lunch. “They’re open late.”
“Perfect.” She glanced at her car. “Do you want me to drive, or—”
“No, I’ll drive. I’m parked about a block down the street.”
“Why didn’t you valet?”
“Sometimes, I like to walk,” I replied. “It’s good exercise.”
“You don’t need it.”
I smiled at her. “Thanks. I’ll tell my personal trainer the grueling workouts he forced on me over the last year have been working.” I gestured down the street. “Come on, it’s not far.”
We walked in silence toward my car, and it gave me a chance to remember how quiet and still Palm Beach could get late at night, even during the height of the social season and the weeks leading to the new year. It was such a contrast to the rest of South Florida, and something I used to dislike as a teenager.
Now, though, it seemed different. But, so did everything. In fact, everything simply seemedbetter.
I helped Samantha into the Mercedes, and we made the quick drive across the bridge to West Palm Beach, still alive so late at night. A few hundred people milled around Flagler Park, sitting on the benches, fishing, and exploring the pier that extended into the waterway on the far side of downtown. Most of the bars and restaurants still had large crowds, and many people had seats at outdoor tables that lined Clematis Street.
“I can’t remember the last time I’ve actually been out for a regular night,” Samantha muttered as I parked the car in one of the garages that rimmed the district.
“Really?”
She shook her head. “Not with working two jobs. I don’t have a lot of time off, and when I do, I’m usually too exhausted to do anything but go home and collapse.”
I shut down the engine and turned to her. “Well, for one evening, let’s just have fun. It’s only ten thirty. We have plenty of time until the clock strikes midnight.”
“You’re right,” she said and reached for the door handle.
We exited the parking garage and traveled down the street, which was a mix of bright lights, tourists, and South Floridians. I led us in the direction of the taco spot, and the hostess sat us at one of the tables with a street view.
“Order whatever you want,” I said as we perused the menus. “It’s on me, and I insist.”
“Hmm.” I glanced up in time to see a mischievous smile cross her face as she looked at the myriad of taco combinations, and the endless margarita flavors. “In that case, maybe I should order the entire menu.”
“Fine by me, but if you’re planning on doing that, we should probably start with a round of margaritas, unless you prefer to take your tequila straight.”
“Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“Maybe. How many shots would that take?”
“Too few.” She wrinkled her nose. “Last time I did tequila straight, I ended up in the dorm bathroom at Florida State, vomiting my guts out. I fell asleep by the toilet and woke up on the tile floor the next morning. Not my finest hour.”
“Hey, that stuff can sneak up on you.”
“It can.” Her face fell. “You know, I never finished at Florida State. Twenty-four credits shy of graduation.”
“What? So close?”
She nodded. “Halfway there but a world away.”
“I’m…I’m sorry.”
