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Shakes his head.

“It’s crowded. That many cars means no tables for sure.”

He does a double take at the parking lot. And me.

“There are . . . five cars,” he says.

“Plus the bicycle,” I say, pointing.

“But . . .” he begins to protest. And finally, finally, he looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.

Which I have. At least, in tonight’s version.

I purse my lips. Sure, it looks like I’m pleading with him. But to me? It’s so I don’t give in now and scream Never mind, I’m SO SORRY for this hassle! Take my wallet and let me be your indentured servant for life to make up for this!

His expression tells me that he is positively bewildered. He’s looking at me like I’m a cat dressed up in a camel dress and talking to him.

But at last, he shakes his head. “Sure, Chloe,” he says with a resigned sigh and begins turning the wheel again. “Okay.”

Then I see a subtle shift in him. As though he’s shuffled through the pages of his book, mentally reoriented his perspective, and decided, You know what? It doesn’t really matter, does it? It’s just food. We may never eat again. But at least. I. Said. Yes. Who knows? Maybe I’ll take this night all the way and propose to her and agree to a bunch of silly little wedding plans and then sneak out of town in the morning.

And then he does something that really makes me want to throw up.

He actually smiles. Like he’s amused and has decided he enjoys taking life easy. And he says, after all this, with a tone as light as air, “Where to now?”

Well, that ruins it.

I can’t do this any longer. I’m not going to get rid of him anywhere on this strip of highway. So we end up at the next place my eyes land on: C. C. Oakes Steak House.

Which isn’t so bad at all. At least in this misery I’ll be eating well.

The old building is exactly as it’s always been for the past fifty years—all the way down to the askew flickering sconce next to the reception stand. The damask wallpaper in deep velvet red has curled bits where the paper is peeling, and I have to help an older woman with a scooter over several layers of Persian rug look-alikes to get in the door.

But it also smells like I’m about to taste the richest steak sauce the kitchen has ever created. The homemade whipped butter rolls are warm. And the people? Well, they’re like family.

Okay, technically they are family, if your uncle’s twice-removed cousin’s husband counts as family. It doesn’t get me any discounts. But still.

“I’m so sorry,” the hostess is saying to James, puckering her lips as she studies the laminated seating chart before her, the one with the most emphatic blue marker scribbles over every single seat. “I could possibly seat you . . . in about ninety minutes. It’s just right now, it’s right at the peak of dinnertime. If you had come an hour ago, perhaps . . .”

The building is twice as old as the owners and barely fits more than ten tables at any given time.

“That’s all right. We’ll just . . . head somewhere else,” James says, forcing a smile through the insanity that has become our evening.

Then comes the unmistakable voice. “Is that Chloe? Chloe!”

A man steps out from the kitchen and, upon seeing me, holds out his arms as he strides confidently our way.

“How are you? How beautiful and grown-up you are!” he says, wrapping me in a hug. Everything about Čedomir Vukovic is spoken like an announcement. His volume comes at one level, matching the boldness of his shirt choices and height of his silvery-white hair.

It’s a compliment I appreciate but can’t take credit for. Genie practically put me in a headlock while she wrestled on my makeup, curled my hair (Genie with a curling iron, for the record, is terrifying), and forced me into the green cardigan over the black dress I’m wearing.

He throws me back just as quickly as he’s pulled me in for a hug and, holding me firmly by both elbows, announces, “I didn’t know you were coming in this evening!”

I laugh a little awkwardly. “Well, to be honest, we didn’t either. It was sort of a last-second hope.”

“No reservation?” he cries with a look that says You should be ashamed.

“Well . . . it’s okay. We are happy to go to Dragon Wagon.”