“Ah, yes. Party of five,” she said, her voice dropping to a softer tone as she looked at the empty space behind me. “The rest of your group is already seated.”
She picked up two menus and stepped out from behind the podium, gesturing toward the corridor that led to the main dining room.
“Is there anyone else joining you?” she asked, looking toward the glass doors behind me where the streetlights were just turning on.
“My husband is parking the car,” I said, the lie slipping out before I could think, my hand smoothing the green silk over my thigh.
She nodded, her eyes lingering on my dress for a fraction of a second, her face neutral.
“Right this way, Mrs. Miller,” she said, turning toward the main dining room.
I followed her past the dark wooden booths, my heels clicking against the hardwood floor. Every step felt like walking through deep water, the emerald green silk rustling softly with my movement, drawing the eyes of a couple dining near the corridor.
