A young woman approached the hostess station. “Good evening. Table for two?”
“Yes, and a quiet one if you have it,” Pete said.
The woman consulted her seating chart. “I have the perfect spot.” She led them along the bar, through the main dining area and to a second, smaller room. She stopped when they reached the front of the restaurant and a cozy corner overlooking the water. “Will this do?”
“It’s perfect.” Pete pulled out Carlita’s chair and waited for her to have a seat before taking the one next to her. The young woman placed menus on the table. “Your server will be along shortly.”
“Thank you.” Carlita smiled at her and waited until she was gone. “This is perfect. I love the view.” Several small sailboats dotted the water, their lights casting a romantic glow.
“Aye. It’s a pretty one.”
The server approached and introduced himself before taking their drink order. Carlita splurged on raspberry lemonade, and Pete did the same. While they waited for their drinks, they perused the menu. It had been hours since Carlita had eaten, and everything sounded delicious.
“Let’s start with an appetizer,” Pete suggested.
“I can’t decide. You pick.”
Pete chose the crispy shrimp lettuce wraps and placed the order when their drinks arrived. He leaned back, giving the server room to place his drink on the table. “Is Ken in tonight?”
“The owner, Ken Gibbons?”
“Yes.”
“He is. He’s in the kitchen.”
“Could you tell him Pete Taylor and Carlita Garlucci, the owner of Ravello’s Italian Eatery, are here?”
“I sure will. I’m heading back there to give the kitchen your appetizer order.”
Pete thanked him and waited until he stepped away to check on another table. “I figured you might want to meet Ken. More than likely, you’ll cross paths somewhere down the road.”
“I’m sure we will.”
Pete lifted his glass. “Here’s to the first of many enjoyable evenings together.”
Carlita lifted her lemonade. “To many more.” She sampled her fruity drink. “This is delicious.”
“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you drink anything other than soda or tea.”
“I normally don’t, but lemonade sounded refreshing.” Carlita and Pete discussed business, Luigi’s arrival and Pete’s upcoming pirate ship event, the one he’d hired Luigi to help with.
“How’s it going with Luigi?”
“Okay. I’m not sure if Savannah is a good fit for him. It’s a little tame for his lifestyle.”
“Has he complained?”
“No, although he strikes me as…” Carlita paused as she searched for the right words. “Perhaps a little restless.”
“Not enough action,” Pete clarified.
“Something like that.”
“And you’re concerned if there’s not enough action, he may end up creating his own to liven things up.”
“The thought has crossed my mind,” she admitted.
The appetizer arrived promptly. Carlita slid a wrap onto her plate and sampled a corner of the spicy dish before deeming it perfect. She polished hers off while Pete was still working on his first. “I’m inhaling my food.”
“I can appreciate a woman with a hearty appetite,” Pete teased.
The server returned a short time later to clear the table and take their dinner order. “I’ll get your order right in.” He grabbed the menus and retreated, passing by a burly man who was headed in their direction.
“Pete Taylor.” The man’s booming voice filled the small room.
Pete shoved his chair back and stood. “Ken. It’s good to see you again.” He grasped the man’s arm as they shook hands.
“I stopped by your restaurant last week, but you weren’t around.”
“I’m sorry I missed you.” Pete motioned to Carlita, who was still seated. “I would like you to meet Carlita Garlucci. She owns Ravello’s Italian Eatery in Savannah’s Walton Square. Carlita, this is Ken Gibbons, the owner of this fine establishment.”
Ken shook her hand. Not realizing the strength of his grip, he squeezed hard, and a sharp pain shot down her arm. She forced herself not to wince and let out a sigh of relief when he finally let go. “I was in there a few days ago with my son and had a delicious Italian dish. I think the name was cake-e-o-pep.”
“Cacio e pepe,” Carlita said. “It means cheese and pepper. It has the taste of a stripped-down macaroni and cheese.”
“With a side of steamed mussels.” Ken patted his stomach as he smacked his lips. “I’m still thinking about it.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed your meal.”
The men began talking shop, and Carlita could sense Gibbons’ eyes on her. Every time she looked his way, Ken would look away. Finally, the conversation ended when Ken glanced at his watch. “I need to head back to the kitchen. I want to personally oversee the preparation of your meal. I’ll stop back by before you leave.” He gave them a nod and limped out of the dining room.
“He seems like a…nice man,” Carlita said.
“Ken’s a great guy. After a few minutes, his loud voice will get your ears to ringing. He lost part of his hearing during his tour in Iraq.”
“He’s a veteran?” Carlita asked.
“Two tours of duty, which is the reason for his limp. He was injured and returned to the States to take over the family business.”
“I’ll be sure to thank him for his service.”
The food came out a short time later, and Carlita enjoyed every bite of her mahi. Pete and she shared samples, each declaring theirs to be the best.
The server stopped by as they were finishing up and removed the plates. Reluctant for the date to end, Pete ordered decaf coffee, and the conversation turned to the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday. Carlita had already invited Pete to dinner, and he’d accepted her invitation.
The bill arrived, and after Pete paid, Ken was the one to deliver the receipt. “How was dinner?”
“Delicious,” Carlita said. “Pete tells me you’re a veteran. Thank
