When she’d first asked him out, Montana Frank had thought he’d gotten drunk enough to fall asleep in the booth and have a delicious dream. “This young woman can’t be serious,” he’d assumed. But she’d persisted, inviting him to dinner date at Hurley’s Hanging Gardens, the nicest restaurant in the trendy tourist destination of Mille Lacs. “Mille Lacs means “thousand lakes” in French.” Mr. Montana man-splained. “Oh, just like Des Moines is French for ‘the Moines,’ she joked. People from both of the Twin Cities make the drive up to eat here,” he enthused. “And even better, it’s your treat!” He was teasing. She’d offered to pay, which was mind-blowing enough, but there was no way any woman was paying for his dinner. “Call me a chauvinist, but my mama raised me right. I’m a member of the Church in good standing. I always pay for “shakes” at Bjorn’s, even when I lose. And hell will freeze over before I allow a woman to pay for a meal.
What do You think about Father Briar And The Angel?
